from hellery to heaven

will power

Last Thursday was a hellery.

Doom, iron cast inside my head, as I sat inside a cold room filled with benches, hollow voices, fears and remorse.
When one feels collapse of the world, all slips away through tiles and stones... La comedia del arte dressed in black.
Thank goodness, friends surrounded me.
I shall remember it for a while - wet flagstones recorded our every step until drizzle turned into fog.

and so is hairst

September filled with silver heads, even iris leaves turn to rust, as chlorophyll becomes weaker... Everything changes around us - precocious signs of early gale, the haste with which birds fly away; even ravens seem much darker. Our every sound, voe and wick become a paddock filled with horses' manes. Soon we shall vanish in blackness.

this precious little book of zen

Zen is easy. Zen is life, exactly as it is, here and now. At the heart of Zen is a sense that we are all part of something greater, just like each wave, part of the ocean.

So I went out to be at one with the rest of our universe and stirred my yin inside my yang... 

 

string of haikus 

 

Plop, plop, plop,

precocious splash kissed our slate tiles -

love letter from autumn.

Feel my shimmer,

equinox breeze through heather bells,

purple wind chime.

 

 

 

 Shamanic world,

drum and birdsong inside your head -

feel the feathers of the blackbird.

 

© Nat Hall 2010

 

...On a lighter note, Kevin MacNeil would smile. I still vividly remember how pitiful I sounded at his haiku workshop series in Lerwick a few autumns ago... There you go, poet-friend and reader, may hellery turn to heaven!  ;-) 

We are from the stars and the sea

Wherever I look, I lose myself in the great waterworld

I often describe my island as a long sausage - so narrow, so close we all live to the water's edge.

We, the people of the north sea, north atlantic and nordic world, we can't escape from wind and spray.

So we build boats to weave friendship and connections.

 humblyband

Da boat, as it is known on all fringes of my island, has long remained the traditional means of transport... 

 

We have special boats here on this latitude, handcrafted and modelled on the viking one... Wood and rivets, kabe, hamle- humli- humblyband.

Ropes, lines, riggings

...Wood and rivets, kabe, hamle- humli- humblyband. To me it sounds like a rengaine, earth leitmotive... And when I tie it to a friend, our nomadism braves each wave from Bressay Sound to the Firth of Lorn :-)) 

What does it mean to the nomad? ...An opening to our own world.

fractured bearings

when that poem sounds like an anthem

Strange feelings have filled my heart since yesterday. 
In the light of the spoon-fed world, I was saddened by the news of Scotland's greatest poet the 20th century has ever met. Mr Morgan has inhabited my creative star ever since I collided with that visionary rendez-vous. 

Native American wisdom reminds us all there is no death - only a change of world

Very well. Let's celebrate the poetics of such great man. Instinctively, I read it out to a close friend as a remedy to poison. His spoken world is alive forever. The only link I need to add is my favourite space poem of his... offcourse
Such moment of glory resonates forever. Unlike any rock or metal, it will neither erode or corrode... However exposed to the sea.

in-between Glasgow and Sandwick

But then, in the midst of that unforeseen eclipse, new constellations merge in innerspace... No collision. Funny enough, I was conversing with Norrie via FB when kindred spirits met in the rain, there on tarmac of some carpark before they decided to celebrate their connection over a pint... Friday night belongs to poets who paint one world and share visions. Tonight, Kenneth White on our lips, as we celebrated the poetics of our respective shores.That talented photographer from Glasgow can be found here: Ruth 's constellation

How grateful to Alistair Cook I feel tonight! Kindred spirits really shine and find their way through the ever expanding world we call cosmos.

Now let us re-count shooting stars ;-)

morning walk

just like a sign...

My morning wish to tidy up within my walls went through the roof as light increased... I heard the North Atlantic calling.

So I looked up through the window and drove to my favourite sands.

There is no place like it on Earth.

 First, it appeared like a guizer...
I decided on a more feline, stealth approach - so I walk sideways like a crab. And then I watched this morning fog slithering like the most elusive of serpents. I never dared to look behind, I just kneeled on the warming sand.

As light returned, colours deepened. Jade from shallows to summer blue polarised my senses and heart.
When you come down to the shoormal, you need to respect every step and make contact with Atlantic.
So I took off my sheepskin boots and folded the edge of my breeks.

...Welcome to morning Arcania :)

 ...It is not cold, it does not sting! I felt at one with the whole world.
So if you too live by the shore, take a morning to feel its pulse and it will help you remember who and where you truly are :).

Snapshots from Arcania [1]

in images... emanating from pixels

the world in one island

the world is flocking to the island

As we are drifting towards Johnsmas, dear Simmerdim, a single glance in the harbour awakes senses: world flags, hulls and accents colour every inch of pontoon. Bollards become multi-lingual... Cultures are mooring in Shetland.

 Have always loved that sense of gathering on such a small superficy of green. And they're  coming from so many directions...  Just a few weeks away from Hamefarin and the island already feels like the ultimate rendez-vous point! shetland hamefarin 2010

Wood versus carbon fibre

It doesn't really matter...  Rivets and gps seem to get on very well together.
The island has always been accustomed to maritimers of all kinds, from fish merchants to buccaneers :)

The many tones of this earth side remains a magnet for this sense of togetherness, fraternity found inside the safety of the harbour... The very roots of the real world. 

Nil Desperandum [LK235]

Where oceans meet at either end,

            I hear gannets on earth background.

You’re resting there,

 keel lost in kelp, bare to shingle –

dark within light before

my lens,

so far away

from Scalloway or

Lossiemouth.

“28 years…” old Jimmy said,

tongue filled with pride,

he never lost faith on starboard

or your portside,

as he rolls black against             

your hull.                                         

How many ghosts,                                                

pulls of the moon,                                                 

scales caught in nets?                                                    

Their heartbeats echo on deckboards.                                   

You’re just leaning against this wharf,                        

 like an old lass at her window…                                                          

immortalised by a young friend                                                

who looks at you                                       

in light sepia.                                                          

Nat, Lerwick, 20 May 2008

 

adrift in the world... looking eastwards

retour aux sources

Back to grassroots.
Nor-norn-norse-north. I still remember my loving godfather's words when I announced him we were to settle on some archipelago west of Norway.  

"So you're going back to your roots," he chuckled.
"Yep," I then answered with a grin.

Nine years later and within a single week, my Norman heart beats to new sounds; records new words and photographs eyes and smiles from the other side of the North Sea.
Shetland cultivates special bonds with the Scandinavian world & her Norwegian neighbours in particular. Their friendship is sacred and tattooed forever on every rock. 
Please check the following links:viking heritage and shetland heritage

 adrift & yet firmly anchored

It all began with a meeting in the staffroom; connecting and sealing friendship with some daring "Viking" expat,  who lives & breathes in a very similar way...  Once eyes cross and find a point of fixation - this strange ability to read beyond the envelope and feel, well, alchemy starts. 
Very little did I know such simple moment would lead to such extraordinary humane adventure!

Norway Liberation Day 2010 celebrated in Shetland 

Anita Orheim sets a precedent for the 65th Anniversary of the event, which coincides with VE Day on 8 May.
She orchestrates it from her adopted home; brings in family & friends from her home island,  invites both communities to reinforce their bond and invites the Coastguard vessel Aalesound to represent the military from Norway for the occasion...

I, her humble eyes for the day

My will to help with photographying the entire event opens new doors from the moment Anita accepts my offer. One precious week to prepare myself and be able to exchange a few words in her mother tongue with our Norwegian guests... A new challenge is set!

And what a start... M/S Nybakk

From arrival on Thursday night on choppy waves... Bressay Sound jigs NE style as we gather by the Alexandra Building. A bit of home is about to moor at Victoria Pier.

Skipper and crew all on deck waving at the small welcoming party.

Mooring ropes fly at around 8 p.m.

Emotions begin to  fill hearts and throats...

Please check out: MSNYBAKK.COM

KNOPER - KNOTS... Knotting friendship

Anita ensured I would get maximum exposure to her Norwegian world by allowing my lens to enter the belly of the boat. My enthusiasm overrode anxiety and it took one evening to connect with it all. Arve Nybakk's my teacher for the knotting exercise.  Anita's a natural, I, a novice!

That Friday night, I began to store new & vital vocabulary and tasted Norwegian hospitality around a table full of life, food and smiles...  What a grand way to tie friendship and forge new bonds! Per-Kåre Nybakk, our boat's skipper, aka da Chief, is watching...

8 May

through the lens

From Scalloway's Shetland Bus Memorial & Lerwick War Memorial to the official reception on board the Aalesound and more informal party on the Nybakk...

The day was filled with emotion and humanity.

Waving goodbye on Saturday night proved emotional for Anita in particular. I must confess my throat also felt tight and dry as my hand went up... 

I now look at it as the start of a beautiful friendship. Within three days, my heart drifted eastwards and I remain forever grateful to Anita for such humane experience. 

Tusen takk, Nita!

 

  This poetics takes a new turn, as I begin to enjoy the cultural flavours of your homeland...  
Norwegian news 

Hyggelig å hilse pådeg,

Freddy og Karin Silden, Arve Nybakk, Ann Mabel Nybakk, Tor Kråkenes, Audun Nybakk, Arvid Haug, Willy Berg, Alf Sjåstad, John-Arne Nybakk, Marius Nybakk,  Per-Kåre Nybakk,

  I think we now have a result.

My connections with the ocean...

A tale of two harbours, norman and shetlandic.

When I am asked, "are you going home for Christmas?" - I smile.
I am home, it is where my heart beats....

Norman, Shetland, it is quite explicit: nor... norse....north.

I once shared a first poem entitled Confession to a Foreigner with Colin Will [Calder Wood Press, Poetry Scotland]who posted it on the Open Mouse.
In this poem, I notably underline the lack of choice for a passport.

And when I face the Atlantic, I know "I'm home".

To some extend, I celebrate my ancestors.