John Pendrey > Recent Status Updates

The six Tibetan children are called Om, Man, Ni, Pad, Ma, Hum.

Spoiler Alert! Stop reading my update.








Into the hell of marital agony and jealousy.
This is unpleasant reading.

Spoiler Alert! Stop reading this.






Into a believable hell of marital agony, which has not been fun reading.

“…Much later on it was a little as if the past had recovered. The past can recover. I saw again, far away like a dulled yet glowing painting of Adam and Eve upon an old fresco, two innocent beings bathed in a clear light. She became my Beatrice. As I went on, all the goodness of my life seemed to reside there with her. Goodness - or was it just a very special blend of innocence and chaste passion? “

"Curiously only this corner of this page has been turned down in my pristine second hand copy.
It marks the start of a letter to the narrator from Lizzie, a once lover.
I read it aloud to my wife. Reading aloud gives me more and more pleasure. This was a beautiful complex letter."

I wrote an update about page 45 but it has vanished. It is a significant page.

https://www.estarser.net/communiques/...

Curiously only this corner of this page has been turned down in my pristine second hand copy.
It marks the start of a letter to the narrator from Lizzie, a once lover.
I read it aloud to my wife. Reading aloud gives me more and more pleasure. This was a beautiful complex letter.

Dreaded internet! I just post to say I was here:

“Everything, especially life, fell apart. Order was a boulder to be rolled up hill”

We could write our own story or play parts in other writers’ stories.

I imagine knots in a Persian rug in a lovely book I once read and returned to a shelf..

My own fiction could also be based in Isfahan in different times, another story…

Dreaded internet. “ I was here:”

“Everything, especially life, fell apart. Order was a boulder to be rolled up hill”

“Lessons” is a good story from a good writer and for me lovely self referential. It’s about making up stories.

One big lesson I hear toward the end where knots are tied is:

We could write our own story or play parts in other writers’ stories.

I imagine knots in a Persian rug in Isfahan…my story….

I’d had a break for a while as it fed a depression but now I’m glad to move on.

I am in the Barley havest with Edie.

I need to pause for breath.
Brilliant.

I need to pause for breath. Brilliant.

There is an amazing film about Greenpeace and the Arctic Russian oil production platform.
‘On Thin Ice’ I think.

Delicious inwardness.
Someone else had such experiences. This is me articulated.
I was not uniquely an odd person who didn’t fit.
It’s a position I’m still in aged 79 but there is someone, a fictional character, like me.
I will read on….

I realise and appreciate my own special latitude on the planet, nether arctic nor tropical.

It’s not my book and I’m moving on so it will be some time if ever that I finish it.

I have ordered 4 Sweet Chestnuts for my croft on a Scottish Island.
Though well beyond their natural range and I will choose their plot with care. I can identify with the book.