It didn’t quite go according to plan.
We three skidded into the ever elegant estate of Lainston House, breathless and wet and with worked up appetites. I lurched over the counter, resembling a sack of potatoes to be honest, and asked the lady if there were any tables free. Even as I spoke I could not help imagining in my mind my great big rhino-sized nostrils taking in the sweet scent of rose tea, gobbling down little sponge cakes so fast as to leave the waiters and waitresses completely gobsmacked, grinning with supreme satisfaction while the last of the crumbs on my lips and dimple catch the light, appearing I should think like stowaway stars.
The lady said ‘no’. Half-term and a Saturday spelled full house. There was no room in the inn.
We were a bit gutted to say the least.
However, where a Plan A gets totally demolished a Plan Z grows in its place! We returned home and made our own afternoon tea special, a delightful medley of Azerbaijani tea served in fetching fine china with an eye-pleasing thick slice of walnut cake. And that was not to be all. The darkening dusk unfurled with it curiosity and wonder as we touched on topics from around the world, time fading as the present infused with stories of the past and of other distant lands. Ottoman Empires, Viking boats, Moroccan souks and magical amulets of bushy-tashed Maharajahs.
As I was saying, Plan Z… ♥
Words & Pictures: ©Mazzy Khatun | UK 2018
I have friends in high places
Like the bear in the photo
Climber he is of dense trunks and riotous branches
Trees are blotters of the sky
In Darkest Peru
He pads by night quietly over leaf litter
Seeking odd jars of marmalade
And sometimes his sensitive snout draws him to other places
Like England, Pret Cafe, our table
The acne-faced teenagers in the puffer jackets roll their eyes,
And they snigger, whisper
But he rolls his sleeves up nevertheless
And climbs and climbs and climbs some more
My bear doesn’t care
He knows that he is rising towards us
Like dawn and waves and the beginning of time
Did I tell you that I had friends in high places?
Words & Pictures: © Mazzy Khatun | UK 2018
Inspired by a recent exploration of the black-and-white photographic archives of George Lucas and Rian Johnson on the making of their respective Star Wars films, I took the plunge and began my own first ever serious experimentation with this distinct mode of seeing and cataloging the world. So accustomed to colour have I always been, as if it were the sole essence and definer of perception I was, to confess, a tad prickled by the prospect of omitting it completely from the frame. If light was the mother of optics then surely colour was the crowning blossom, that which the eye was designed to seek out and luxuriate in its infinite varieties.
I was wrong.
In my maiden foray into a world extracted of colour I learnt that far from this preconceived notion that I was about to eviscerate the very lifeblood from visual phenomena, I was instead met by a gasp of discovery. I had arrived in a world that spoke through contrast and lines and textures, where the self-administered hibernation of the visible spectrum of colour awoke in its place a new kind of interpretative fluency in the deeper dialects of nostalgia and reflection.
There are no rainbows in black-and-white because there is too much of its arc and wire, the raw and resolving and celebratory poetics of a creative Universe.
Words & Pictures: © Mazzy Khatun | UK 2018
The murk of the underworld and I lunged my hand down
Saw her faded orange
Skin scarred, bruised
I picked her
That evening magicked words
Into the crypt of her womb
Words that drew into the deep black
Smiling earth-bound flickers
Of the sun’s maternal flesh:
Words & Pictures: © Mazzy Khatun | 2017
She read the book attentively, and so at peace was her heart that it surely must have stilled the unseen forces that made the wooden bench what it was, breathing a sweet smiling silence all around, making listeners out of ivy and holly and the dew orbs that to the red berry was its wide ocean.
Words and Pictures by © Mazzy Khatun | 2017
And last, but in no way least, if I have shown even a morsel of courage to accept the writer that I am today then it is you – only you – who is the reason for my sunburst renewal. Thank you, thank you, thank you my dear friend. Alive again and always yours, M.
A Your Echoes In Space Presentation: The Universe
Words & Picture by © Mazzy Khatun 2017
A Your Echoes In Space Presentation: Physics Emoted
Words & Pictures by © Mazzy Khatun 2017