Carn Euny Fogou

Dark caves are wombs for lonely thoughts. What else could live there but lost children and love.

There is a well sprung from rock, life from darkness. Moss grows there, glows uncannily. The slit it flows from widens year by year, becomes a stream, a river, the sea.

Not a mother to life - breeched but barren.

Displacement Activities - Light Night Leeds October 7th

On Friday 7th October, starting 8.30pm from Project Space Leeds we set off on a psychogeographical adventure! I'm very happy to be involved in this event and also excited about the performance.

see the website and Light Night for more details and I hope to see you there!

Dob Park Lodge & The Hunter's Stones

Dob (or Dog, as the original reference may be mispelt) Park lodge looms over the Washburn Valley, looking much like some kind of idyllic setting from a Turner painting.

The 17th century hunting lodge holds some folkloric charm as the setting for a tale about a farmer following a tunnel into its hidden cellars and happening upon a golden horde, complete with slavering barguest, who told him to either drink from a cup, pull a sword from a scabbard or open the chest. The Farmer tasted the cup which scalded him and he ran, becoming white haired and leaving the treasure behind. A barguest also stalks the roads around Almscliffe crag (and of course, there also exists a tunnel!), visible in the distance.

Down through the woods to the beautiful ancient packhorse bridge over the Washburn river the trail brings us to Folly Hall woods, an area with megalithic boulders and cup and rings.

and further up the pine woods of Norwood Edge. Overlooking the golf balls of Menwith Hill, this is a remote edge of wilderness, where the bodies of Yvonne Fit and Leanne Tiernan were buried in shallow graves.

The plantation is dense and hard to navigate, wandering through the trees we stumbled upon a tiny shack tucked away in the trees. The Hunter stones lie within, mostly hidden and slightly off the footpath.

The rocks remind again of Almscliffe, wart well-like pools dotted around and deep crevices to slide down, only without the gut-wrenching drop to keep you on your toes. It is a short walk from here on to little Almscliffe, the cup and ring'd fractal sibling of the big one.

Otley Folk Festival - Morris Dancing

Just a few photos from the hour or so we spent there, the sudden thunder storm halted some of the dancing and the call of the sandwich grew too strong mid way through the mummer's play.

Medusa Morris side

Raving Maes morris side

Sword dancing team...

The Sorcerers Apprentice, Leeds

It seems that Frater Marabas/Chris Bray has had some subtle but important effects on my life, despite my initial doubts about his authenticity. I had been fascinated by the burnt studded doors of the Sorcerers Apprentice shop since my arrival in Leeds some ten years ago. I chanced upon it on a midnight walk and didn't notice the faint lettering on the now defunct signage.

Four years or so on, my best friend at the time who I had just met, lived on Burley Lodge Road in Leeds just a few hundred yards away Marabas's residence. Googling the street name one day revealed to us that the sinister exterior was far more interesting than we imagined.

We pondered his existence, whether he lived there with tattered cardboard blacking out the windows, light occasionally gleaming from cracks in the upstairs window, and a padlock on the heavy doors. We debated the ethics of selling rocks collected on Ilkley moor. We eventually ordered some small items from him by mail order, and marveled at the doors whenever we passed by.

Some research revealed his previous shop had existed at Hyde Park corner, but had been firebombed by Christian extremists during the Satanic ritual abuse craze of the 80's. Chris Bray spoke openly about his beliefs and opposition to the unfounded prejudice directed towards magical beliefs at the time, which I felt was a brave and unselfish thing to do regardless of whatever stance you took on his rock-peddling. Further research revealed that he published the Lamp of Thoth magazine in the 80's, a delightfully anachronistic revival of a magazine published by the Society of Dew and Light, who operated in Keighley at the turn of the last century. One of the members of this group was Daniel Murgatroyd, whose grimoire and magical equipment were recently up for sale.

Two years ago I was introduced to the love of my life when a mutual friend was sick of listening to me talk nonsense about magic and thought it would be better directed at him. The first thing we spoke about was Chris Bray and the Leeds chaos magic scene.

Much has happened in between then and now, but we often speak of the shop and its owner. I wish it wasn't mail order only so we could visit and pay homage to the true magic of Frater Marabas, whose thread has been weaving a beautiful pattern through our now interconnected lives.

Avebury Omphalos

I'm walking a labyrinth that returns to Avebury. People die from waking view but live here in dreams. It feels like somewhere that you have to go back, I'd love to live here one day.

The Institute of Stone Age Sex gig and Bang the Bore Zone of Alienation recording

Saturday we played as the Institute of Stone Age Sex, hopefully we can play again soon!

Julian Cope was awesome too.

In other news, I have been assisting with the preparations for the Zone of Alienation event being produced by Bang the Bore. We drove to the derelict Thorpe Marsh power station to record the sounds of the empty cooling tower - which has amazing acoustic effects. Those who can make it to the event this Saturday the 6th of August in Southampton should!