Tag Archives: Fife Psychogeography

When natural cycles turn, brutalist windows can dream of trees…

. a flower expresses itself by flowering, not by being labelled Patrick Geddes That blue There – beyond the iris heads. As if a grey tarpaulin has been peeled back across the eyeball of the sky. . Spring light, a different … Continue reading

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Some Questions of the Drift

“I ask you:  – What is the weight of light?“ – Clarice Lispector ≈ ≈ ≈ . . .  - What are the colours of time? . . . . .  - What are the sounds of the stones? . . .. … Continue reading

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Silverburn: in the flux and flow of place

≈ We are walking out, along the shoreline, from Leven towards Lundin Links. Coastal energies are in full flow, our field of vision filled with an excess of sand, sea and sky. In the distance, an intensity of white light … Continue reading

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An Almost Supernatural Manifestation…

I must have taken this journey hundreds of times. The railway crossing over the Firth of Forth, rumbling through the three red diamonds of the Rail Bridge. The train window frames a changing canvas of sea and sky as weather … Continue reading

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Ephemera: Dead Cars Dream …

c d e a d r r e s a m c d e a d r s d r e a l c h e m y m Now playing: Poltergeist- Your Mind is a Box (Let Us Fill … Continue reading

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The Poppies are in the Field: Pattiesmuir 26th June 2013

. The poppies are in the field But don’t ask me what that means – Julian Cope There is no long march of progress in this field. No future enlightenment to strive for.                 … Continue reading

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Moby Dick, Laurie Anderson and The Kings Cellar, Limekilns.

The book is so modern, it’s insane. Melville uses all these voices — historian, naturalist, botanist, lawyer, dreamer, obsessive librarian. His jump-cut style is truly contemporary. Laurie Anderson on Moby Dick  November 1999 The métro pulls in to Bobigny Pablo-Picasso in … Continue reading

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Searching for Storione – A walk with the ghosts of Little Moscow

Our research unit hasn’t exactly excelled itself. A scribbled address on a torn piece of paper is all that we have: Communist Literature Depot, 128 Perth Road, Cowdenbeath. This is the only material link we have to Storione and even … Continue reading

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Two Spectral Trees – Somewhere North of Devilla Forest

Looking up to the ridge, over the evergreen crowns, two spectral trees hang mid-air in the limpid heat. A  smoke spiral, all coiled movement, settles to stillness as a Rorschach blot of charcoal smudge bleeds into sun saturated blue. The universe … Continue reading

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On Samhain

The moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places. Mary Shelley at the cusp of light and darkness through veil of in-world and out-world they arrive. ~~~ And if in … Continue reading

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