<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090</id><updated>2012-02-13T01:39:23.898-08:00</updated><category term='songs.'/><category term='dad'/><category term='helping out'/><category term='tools'/><category term='Cancer'/><category term='adriano'/><category term='ponds'/><category term='pete'/><category term='attraction'/><category term='resturants'/><category term='Horse'/><category term='competition'/><category term='Geography'/><category term='noah'/><category term='ancient place'/><category term='fate'/><category term='leaving'/><category term='granny'/><category term='italy'/><category term='andromeda'/><category term='riot kid'/><category term='train travel'/><category term='anger'/><category term='john coltraine'/><category term='precious objects'/><category term='naked'/><category term='feast'/><category term='journeying'/><category term='confusion'/><category term='kids'/><category term='apples'/><category term='healing'/><category term='mandalas'/><category term='singing'/><category term='wolves'/><category term='abandonment'/><category term='Art gallery.'/><category term='jesus'/><category term='rich'/><category term='being chased'/><category term='dragons'/><category term='kev'/><category term='foxgloves'/><category term='injury'/><category term='tiger'/><category term='philosophy'/><category term='paralized'/><category term='canabis growing'/><category term='monk'/><category term='clan'/><category term='ice'/><category term='sculptures'/><category term='Scary'/><category term='cold'/><category term='fire'/><category term='pubs'/><category term='church'/><category term='little brothers'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='panic'/><category term='herbalism'/><category term='Shiro'/><category term='sick'/><category term='spirals'/><category term='organic shops.'/><category term='love'/><category term='cows'/><category term='drug searches'/><category term='crossing waters'/><category term='no clothes'/><category term='james clegg'/><category term='technology'/><category term='Joe'/><category term='deserts'/><category term='tunes'/><category term='fighting to the death'/><category term='conor'/><category term='magic'/><category term='attacked'/><category term='messaging'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='badgers'/><category term='swamp'/><category term='police'/><category term='tara'/><category term='st ives'/><category term='new sheds'/><category term='medieval field systems'/><category term='sweating'/><category term='permaculture'/><category term='piano'/><category term='dyslexia'/><category term='leaks'/><category term='wandering'/><category term='fairies'/><category term='curses'/><category term='card tricks'/><category term='giant log games'/><category term='heroic corage'/><category term='Neuroglia'/><category term='trapped. tigers'/><category term='sickness'/><category term='strange allotments'/><category term='Jobs'/><category term='trance like states'/><category term='horns'/><category term='music'/><category term='ritual'/><category term='recreation'/><category term='anne marie'/><category term='allotments'/><category term='witchy pagans'/><category term='christopher mason'/><category term='Oscar the cat'/><category term='waterfalls'/><category term='elders'/><category term='damage to house.'/><category term='disguises'/><category term='smoking'/><category term='spontanious events'/><category term='churches'/><category term='abundance'/><category term='fear'/><category term='being pulled home by a wolf'/><category term='plants for a future'/><category term='party at adams'/><category term='bone marrow'/><category term='markets'/><category term='masks'/><category term='growing'/><category term='pilgrimage'/><category term='a cave'/><category term='pictures'/><category term='illness'/><category term='may'/><category term='meat'/><category term='fish'/><category term='heros'/><category term='out of body experience'/><category term='Discipline'/><category term='loss'/><category term='grotto'/><category term='blue mushrooms'/><category term='falling rocks'/><category term='november'/><category term='knife'/><category term='rich.'/><category term='Spirit world. Mbira'/><category term='art'/><category term='orchards'/><category term='music gatherings'/><category term='spirit objects'/><category term='ME'/><category term='travel'/><category term='building structures'/><category term='UFOs'/><category term='conversations'/><category term='hiding'/><category term='magic spinning top'/><category term='refugees'/><category term='jude'/><category term='family'/><category term='richard clare'/><category term='dancers'/><category term='ghosts'/><category term='mum'/><category term='performance'/><category term='new roots'/><category term='lost world'/><category term='revolutionaries'/><category term='plants . tours'/><category term='wild jamming'/><category term='contest'/><category term='boulders'/><category term='st georges day'/><category term='waiting'/><category term='lost'/><category term='wild man'/><category term='dogs'/><category term='cheese'/><category term='weird fish'/><category term='graffiti'/><category term='camping'/><category term='foxes'/><category term='wild food'/><category term='fall'/><category term='school'/><category term='poison'/><category term='depression'/><category term='Babs'/><category term='KRS-one'/><category term='armies'/><category term='in the moment experience'/><category term='Bits'/><category term='flying'/><category term='sudden excitement.'/><category term='squash'/><category term='leaders'/><category term='a battle'/><category term='baby'/><category term='escape'/><category term='nigel'/><category term='Festivals'/><category term='wrong ways'/><category term='Rosa'/><category term='Cauliflowers'/><category term='celebrations'/><category term='dead birds'/><category term='floods'/><category term='stories'/><category term='rap'/><category term='moggy'/><category term='wild food walks'/><category term='school bus'/><category term='cleaning'/><category term='sadness'/><category term='jedi warriors'/><category term='viewing. kids'/><category term='warriors'/><category term='hugs'/><category term='roast chicken'/><category term='oil spills'/><category term='isolation'/><category term='rock formations'/><category term='meal with strangers'/><category term='spontaneous sound'/><category term='biodynamics'/><category term='daniele'/><category term='simon'/><category term='light sabers'/><category term='Dancing'/><category term='spring water'/><category term='weeing in nature'/><category term='life death shift'/><category term='Gardens'/><category term='garden design'/><category term='homework'/><category term='sex'/><category term='leap of faith'/><category term='fruit trees'/><category term='flies'/><category term='river picnics'/><category term='football'/><category term='robbery'/><category term='giant sweet chestnut'/><category term='hospitals'/><category term='friends'/><category term='happy times'/><category term='vandalism'/><category term='manchester'/><category term='ailsa'/><category term='adam'/><category term='teachers'/><category term='Overy'/><category term='lizzie'/><category term='instruments'/><category term='denial'/><category term='scared'/><category term='views'/><category term='assassins'/><category term='journeys'/><category term='reunion'/><category term='mushrooms'/><category term='Mike'/><category term='james'/><category term='getting into trouble'/><category term='danger'/><category term='imogen'/><category term='journey'/><category term='sheffield'/><category term='sightseeing'/><category term='passion'/><category term='mud'/><category term='corruptions'/><category term='food'/><category term='retreat'/><category term='play'/><category term='brighton'/><category term='seeking for a home'/><category term='free canabis'/><category term='landscapes'/><category term='predators'/><category term='turners'/><category term='strangers'/><category term='bees magic caves insects'/><category term='paranoia'/><category term='bobby mc ferren'/><category term='witch'/><category term='singers'/><category term='nelson mandela'/><title type='text'>Inner landscapes; the garden of my mind.</title><subtitle type='html'>Each morning, when i return from this empty place, my mind fills with the thoughts of yesterdays life; i emerge from the swamp with gifts containing instructions and symbols, to help me grow and decide what it really is that i want from this life. These are some of the remembered gems and crystals of these gifts.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>154</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2934484942941843767</id><published>2012-02-11T13:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:41:38.675-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost world'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Joe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ancient place'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rock formations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wandering'/><title type='text'>the rock formations in the peak district</title><content type='html'>I am with L. I meet her in bristol somewhere, I think it is her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hug, and it feels great to see her again. I decide to take her to&lt;br /&gt;see some places, and we wander, now we are in sheffield, we wander&lt;br /&gt;through my old school grounds. It is summer and there are loads of&lt;br /&gt;flowering plants. We eat some tomatoes. One of my other friends is&lt;br /&gt;with us. We go through these woods at the far end of the playground,&lt;br /&gt;and it leads us to this ancient place, a lost world with this ruined&lt;br /&gt;city amidst the trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; There are people playing giant ball games out&lt;br /&gt;here, like tennis but bigger. We try not to get in the way, but&lt;br /&gt;inevitably we end up getting involved. We meet my brother joe and he&lt;br /&gt;leads us across the landscape, and to the train. We get on the train,&lt;br /&gt;and there we meet J. He is going out to the peak district to do some&lt;br /&gt;work in this old garden near this ancient church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a beautiful sunny day and we get off to explore, just after j has got off. Its&lt;br /&gt;limestone country, and there are these huge outcrops of lime stone,&lt;br /&gt;not dissimilar to the ones you see in pictures of the hopi great&lt;br /&gt;plains land, those sticky up rock formations. But these have trees and&lt;br /&gt;green on top and around. This is england after all. We wander. It is&lt;br /&gt;so great spending so much time with L. I am helping her, and she is&lt;br /&gt;helping me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2934484942941843767?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2934484942941843767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/02/rock-formations-in-peak-district.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2934484942941843767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2934484942941843767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/02/rock-formations-in-peak-district.html' title='the rock formations in the peak district'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-793314537532333679</id><published>2012-02-11T13:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:02:30.403-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='witchy pagans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hospitals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plants . tours'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='denial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gardens'/><title type='text'>The Cancer diagnostic</title><content type='html'>I'm in wellow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm showing two middle agedish women round the garden, I think its&lt;br /&gt;Narrelle and Imogen. They are fascinated by the plants. I'm telling&lt;br /&gt;them about the growing and the medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tipi phil is around too. He has set up his tipi in the garden&lt;br /&gt;somewhere. The weather is very damp. He is struggling to keep the&lt;br /&gt;place dry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone phones me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi, its Meg."&lt;br /&gt;Who's meg I'm wondering?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize to the others, "I just got to take this call".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm that witchy pagan who you met a few months ago"&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, I wonder. That doesn't really help.. I meet lots of witchy pagans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, now I remember who it must be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I remember you" I say,&lt;br /&gt;"Do come round".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making a fire in a yurt structure. The wood is damp and its making&lt;br /&gt;a lot of smoke. She arrives and we chat.&lt;br /&gt;As we chat Oli comes in playing guitar. He sings as well, and before I&lt;br /&gt;know it, we are transported back to the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meg now tells me I need to go have a hospital check up. They have some&lt;br /&gt;important news they need to tell me. I go to the hospital. I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;for the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mr Watts",&lt;br /&gt;I go over to the reception desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We have the results of your check up, we have found that you have&lt;br /&gt;been awarded to have cancer treatment"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Typical" I think to myself, amongst feelings of denial and panic...&lt;br /&gt;just like them! They probably just want to offer me something but I&lt;br /&gt;don't want it. And yet, what if they ARE right?  What if I do have&lt;br /&gt;cancer? I panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mum is there too, and I tell her that I don't believe them. Someone&lt;br /&gt;my age getting cancer? That's impossible.. But I know deep down that&lt;br /&gt;it is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's go and see the results" I say to my mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A radiologist shows me the scan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here" and "here" he points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First I see a circle drawn around my right knee, the place where I had&lt;br /&gt;the operation. Typical. I think to myself that this could have been&lt;br /&gt;caused by all the x-ray treatment I had as I child on my legs and&lt;br /&gt;knees. The second place he circles is an area in my chest, not my&lt;br /&gt;heart area, but to the right hand side of my body, the right lung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lung cancer?" I wonder. Well, I have been smoking recently, but not&lt;br /&gt;lots. Only one a day! How unlucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander out of the hospital with my mum. I am thinking to myself that&lt;br /&gt;what if they were right, and the chemotherapy was the only way of&lt;br /&gt;treating it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I know about good diet, I know how to look after myself, to eat right&lt;br /&gt;and drink right, and live a good life. Ok, I have lapsed a bit, but&lt;br /&gt;surely not enough to get cancer? I think to my self that even healthy&lt;br /&gt;people get cancer as well, just less often. Anything is possible.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this is a spiritual defect, I wonder, perhaps I have been&lt;br /&gt;thinking too many negative thoughts. My first idea of treatment is to&lt;br /&gt;get one of my shamanic friends to scan my body to see if they can pick&lt;br /&gt;up on what the doctors picked up on. I feel I need spiritual guidance&lt;br /&gt;with this one.&lt;br /&gt;I know deep down that you don't have to have done anything wrong to&lt;br /&gt;get cancer, sometimes its just the way its meant to be, and there's&lt;br /&gt;nothing you can do about it. Sometimes... Perhaps that's the way its&lt;br /&gt;meant to be for me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-793314537532333679?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/793314537532333679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/02/im-in-wellow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/793314537532333679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/793314537532333679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/02/im-in-wellow.html' title='The Cancer diagnostic'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-615593123266160577</id><published>2012-02-11T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T13:00:19.802-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='songs.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pilgrimage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='messaging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='permaculture'/><title type='text'>The Healing Song</title><content type='html'>I have reached the destination of my pilgrimage, and I enter the&lt;br /&gt;temple. There is a buddhist monk sat cross legged in the center of the&lt;br /&gt;room with cushions spread out all around him. A few people are in the&lt;br /&gt;room with him, and he is chanting in a deep tone, like throat singing&lt;br /&gt;voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he finishes, he welcomes me in, and then says to the people on&lt;br /&gt;the floor, "let's try something new"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all sit up and I join the group. This seems like more of an active&lt;br /&gt;meditation group than a passive one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jess said to travel to brighton, that I'd meet someone important&lt;br /&gt;there. Me and ruth are traveling with her, in her van. After brighton&lt;br /&gt;we are going on to bristol. I wanted to go back to sheffield, but she&lt;br /&gt;tells me I don't need to go back to sheffield, I just need to buy a&lt;br /&gt;few new items of clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm singing some songs with some friends at a festival, outside&lt;br /&gt;somewhere on the grass. Sama is there, as are some other members of&lt;br /&gt;the clan. Its a spirit gathering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now having a meal at some community event in bristol. We have&lt;br /&gt;been listening to lots of music&lt;br /&gt;No food left, just some bread. Someone offers me some rye bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike fingold is there. I point him out to T. "Have you met mike? He is&lt;br /&gt;involved in most of the bristol permaculture stuff."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T has seen him around and abouts but doesn't really know him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T has written a song for me. She starts singing it, and it brings&lt;br /&gt;tears to both my and her eyes, and lots of the people who are in the&lt;br /&gt;room. She is playing it on the harmonium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song goes,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Blessed stephen&lt;br /&gt;Help me&lt;br /&gt;You didn't know you were hopeful in child,&lt;br /&gt;Now you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flow, flow, flow, flow your river down. Flow your river down. Flow&lt;br /&gt;your river down."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People don't stop to listen to all of it, and we get distracted by&lt;br /&gt;other things, but it was a truly beautiful song. It went straight to&lt;br /&gt;my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are doing some messaging on a computer. R has been sending me&lt;br /&gt;messages. This is no ordinary message service. It has 3D graphics, and&lt;br /&gt;surround sound. Yes, you even get to see the thoughts that they wish&lt;br /&gt;to send you. But it is also an open service, like facebook, and so,&lt;br /&gt;everyone else gets to see them too. Essentially everyone's thoughts&lt;br /&gt;are transparent. I see naked bodies in my messages, bums and thighs,&lt;br /&gt;breasts...I don't know where they have come from, who sent them, who's&lt;br /&gt;they are, but they are engaged in various acrobatic like sexual&lt;br /&gt;activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bro joe comments on them, as do giles and luke and a few others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-615593123266160577?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/615593123266160577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/02/healing-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/615593123266160577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/615593123266160577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/02/healing-song.html' title='The Healing Song'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5541346105872179125</id><published>2012-01-26T04:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T04:39:55.416-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='train travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='naked'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hugs'/><title type='text'>no trowsers dream</title><content type='html'>I am in new roots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting ready to leave sheffield,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im preparing my stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruth is around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hug before I go. Too short. She looks different somehow.&lt;br /&gt;She has the look of the goddess in her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get my bike into community bus. I traveling back with my bike. The&lt;br /&gt;lady in the bus is very friendly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive forgot to put on my trousers. She says there is time, I go back to&lt;br /&gt;look for some but I can't find any. Joe gives me some. I get back to&lt;br /&gt;the bus and we leave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5541346105872179125?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5541346105872179125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-trowsers-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5541346105872179125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5541346105872179125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-trowsers-dream.html' title='no trowsers dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3468061662928226994</id><published>2012-01-26T04:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T04:38:58.123-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='retreat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><title type='text'>chinese new year</title><content type='html'>I have gone on a retreat with a whole load of people - friends, mostly&lt;br /&gt;around my own age, but also a real mix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to take myself away for a few days- I will be brought food. - I&lt;br /&gt;am locked in this little compartment, and in about 2 or 3 days, I will&lt;br /&gt;be let out. Its frustrating because I can hear the others talking. I&lt;br /&gt;explore my compartment, there are a few rooms to it, and in the back&lt;br /&gt;room which opens onto the garden is this old man with a dog. I'm&lt;br /&gt;surprised to see them, and pleased as I thought I was here o my own.&lt;br /&gt;The dog smiles at me, and I can honestly say I have never seen a dog&lt;br /&gt;smile like that. "Look" I say to the old man, "at that smile he has!!" (only later do i think it must have been a dragon, not a dog! )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back with the others. We are making signs, and art work. I have&lt;br /&gt;been making something, which I am now going to put sandpaper on. Then&lt;br /&gt;we are going to do some group singing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3468061662928226994?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3468061662928226994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/chinese-new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3468061662928226994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3468061662928226994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/chinese-new-year.html' title='chinese new year'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5581458687438920251</id><published>2012-01-26T04:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T04:37:48.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the Giant Spinning top (part 2 )</title><content type='html'>I am in a playground and john is here with me. This woman gives me a&lt;br /&gt;challenge - to spin this giant spinning top all the way round the&lt;br /&gt;playground in one throw. Its an epic challenge, but I am feeling bold&lt;br /&gt;and confident. I want to impress her and john with my talents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I'm about to throw, these rude boys turn up, and want to pick&lt;br /&gt;a fight on me. They want to rob my giant spinning top off me. I must&lt;br /&gt;throw it before they do. I can't properly fight them while I am still&lt;br /&gt;holding it, but if I throw it in a distracted state I will never&lt;br /&gt;achieve the goal the woman set me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrestle with these two rude boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never get round to throwing this spinning top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm in a different dream. I am making a plant pilgrimage up to&lt;br /&gt;scotland. I was told in a dream to come to this place just on the&lt;br /&gt;boarders of scotland, and so I arranged a van to take me and a whole&lt;br /&gt;load of allotment people, mostly older guys, up to the boarders. When&lt;br /&gt;we get there, we get a message to go further up, so we continue our&lt;br /&gt;drive, until we can drive no more. Now we get out and walk, as far as&lt;br /&gt;me can up these mountains. I get ahead of everyone, as I am fit and&lt;br /&gt;healthy. I scout out the ground before hand, checking the direction.&lt;br /&gt;Its getting muddy, and people are wanting to turn back. Its raining&lt;br /&gt;hard and cold. We come to some refuge between the mountains, and we&lt;br /&gt;warm up and recover our strength before starting out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm back in sheffield, in a pub. This is the drinks before going&lt;br /&gt;out part of the night. I get a text from R saying to come a visit her,&lt;br /&gt;so I finnish mt drinks and start to make my way. On route I get&lt;br /&gt;distracted and bump into trouble. I'm in a club of some sort....I was&lt;br /&gt;asking for trouble in my mind as I secretly wanted it, but now I&lt;br /&gt;realise I don't, but I have to deal with it. These mean hearted guys&lt;br /&gt;are out for a fight and want to rob me. I change my intent -'I intend&lt;br /&gt;to find my friend'... To my surprise my friend appears in the corner&lt;br /&gt;of the room as if by magic. The mean guys have gone. This friend now&lt;br /&gt;begins to escort me to R's house. We have to go through these&lt;br /&gt;buildings with locks to get there. I bump into A and we have a really&lt;br /&gt;interesting conversation about relationships. Its all about how even&lt;br /&gt;when you really love someone, and want to be with them, you will still&lt;br /&gt;find other people attractive. We speak about people we know falling in&lt;br /&gt;and out of love, and how we are all trying to find satisfaction on so&lt;br /&gt;many levels, both sexually and non sexually, and how it can be&lt;br /&gt;unrealistic to find that all in one person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the locks we cannot open. I manage to find a way through, as if&lt;br /&gt;some old memory reminded me of the code. Now I try to show A the code&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't work with him. Thankfully someone has come to let him&lt;br /&gt;out. We are through the building and now there is some kind of fair on&lt;br /&gt;the grass that we wander round. There are gazebos with merchandise for&lt;br /&gt;sale under. We wander round in the sunshine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5581458687438920251?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5581458687438920251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/giant-spinning-top-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5581458687438920251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5581458687438920251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/giant-spinning-top-part-2.html' title='the Giant Spinning top (part 2 )'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7015185582555336200</id><published>2012-01-10T05:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T05:43:05.727-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poison'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swamp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scary'/><title type='text'>choking</title><content type='html'>I need to get to this special healing spot, in the woods. Before I can&lt;br /&gt;get there I have to go through the swamp. As I wade through the&lt;br /&gt;shallows, I get the feeling like this is a special initiation. I leave&lt;br /&gt;some of my stuff behind, and take off my jumper as I don't want it to&lt;br /&gt;get muddy. When I put it down by this tree, I see this strange slimy&lt;br /&gt;growth in the swamp by the tree that moves, and covers my jumper in&lt;br /&gt;mud. All of a sudden this choking invisible gas rises from the swamp,&lt;br /&gt;and I can't breathe. I gasp for breath and wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7015185582555336200?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7015185582555336200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/choking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7015185582555336200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7015185582555336200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/choking.html' title='choking'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5254261925610896106</id><published>2012-01-07T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T11:24:11.439-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><title type='text'>an inbetween kind of dream..</title><content type='html'>I'm on a sofa, under blankets, lying next to H, I get an erection, and&lt;br /&gt;I think she notices, but her boyfriend is there, and yet she wants to&lt;br /&gt;secretly feel my erection so she uses her feet to pleasure me.&lt;br /&gt;I think her boyfriend finds out, as we are all inter tangled on this&lt;br /&gt;sofa, and its hard to tell who is who sometimes. And I think he gets&lt;br /&gt;mad with me so I keep out of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was back at Ashton lodge, we were just finishing off a long day or&lt;br /&gt;work, and one of us had had to drop out, and go and lie down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The work we were doing involved more theatre. I remember there was&lt;br /&gt;this bed we needed to lie on, while others did healing around us&lt;br /&gt;involving props, and blankets and things to make the space healing. We&lt;br /&gt;had to go one at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave to check on the lady who had to drop out. There are these 2&lt;br /&gt;lads I bump into who also need a bit of direction, so I give one of&lt;br /&gt;them a mars bar, and tell them some things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5254261925610896106?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5254261925610896106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/inbetween-kind-of-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5254261925610896106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5254261925610896106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/inbetween-kind-of-dream.html' title='an inbetween kind of dream..'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7901516899808387717</id><published>2012-01-07T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T11:25:19.573-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fighting to the death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='isolation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='in the moment experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='panic'/><title type='text'>sleep paralysis</title><content type='html'>What happened? Where am I? why can't I move?&lt;br /&gt;Oh god! I can barely breathe! My mouth won't open, and my nose is&lt;br /&gt;blocked! It feels like my head will explode! Will I die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help help help! I'm crying out internally.&lt;br /&gt;HELP!!! I don't want to die!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panic runs through me from head to foot. I manage to just about open&lt;br /&gt;my eyes.. I can see a dull yellowy orange light off to my left. Just&lt;br /&gt;keep calm I tell my self. Listen to your heart beat. I can hear my&lt;br /&gt;heart beat racing... Or is it going really slowly? It hard to tell.&lt;br /&gt;Its still going though and that's the main thing. Keep your attention&lt;br /&gt;on the beating of your heart I tell my self. It feels like my brain is&lt;br /&gt;starved of oxygen. I'm sure this is what it happening.. That's why I&lt;br /&gt;can't move. If I can only open my mouth just a tiny bit I will be able&lt;br /&gt;to breathe better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few! I've opened a tiny crack at the side of my mouth. And with this a&lt;br /&gt;tiny bit of strength comes back, enough to move a tiny amount and see&lt;br /&gt;a bit more of my suroundings.. Am I in the shed in wellow? I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;What's that orangey light? Did I leave a candle burning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm realizing now that this is yet again another experience of sleep&lt;br /&gt;paralysis... Oh god, why is this still happening to me I wonder?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I must be in my shed in wellow..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm in the process of having an epileptic fit or&lt;br /&gt;something similar. Far too much activity is going on in my brain to&lt;br /&gt;call this normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The panic of going to die has gone, but I can't really move yet. I&lt;br /&gt;just stay focused on my breathing and my beating heart, and wait for&lt;br /&gt;the energy to return. Slowly I manage to open my mouth more, and get&lt;br /&gt;more air. What a relief! I am in my shed in wellow. It looks like I&lt;br /&gt;left a candle burning! Maybe a good thing I woke up! I would not have&lt;br /&gt;wanted to burn my shed down! .. Wait a minute.. No, I'm not in wellow.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't sleep in wellow last night. I slept in adam and liz's house&lt;br /&gt;in walkey.  And that orangey glow is the lamp from the street.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7901516899808387717?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7901516899808387717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/sleep-paralisys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7901516899808387717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7901516899808387717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/sleep-paralisys.html' title='sleep paralysis'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8622368851413444659</id><published>2012-01-05T02:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T11:22:24.804-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='st ives'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='viewing. kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='views'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='markets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>st ives market</title><content type='html'>I'm at a market by the sea in st ives. I'm helping out this girl I&lt;br /&gt;like who is running a stall selling crafty things. She asks me to go&lt;br /&gt;and buy some fish. Its wintertime, but there is still lots of good&lt;br /&gt;fresh fish for sale. She wants me to buy salmon, and I want to buy&lt;br /&gt;mackerel. I also plan to forage for some muscles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to get fish, I get distracted by wanting to get this sunset&lt;br /&gt;view. It involves climbing up this little hill, and then up a ladder,&lt;br /&gt;right to the top. The walk is a song, the rungs of the ladder&lt;br /&gt;different notes to a tune. There are other people up here with me,&lt;br /&gt;waiting for the sun to set. A little boy wants help climbing down from&lt;br /&gt;the ladder so I help him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8622368851413444659?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8622368851413444659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-at-market-by-sea-in-st-ives.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8622368851413444659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8622368851413444659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-at-market-by-sea-in-st-ives.html' title='st ives market'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8569271280102318798</id><published>2012-01-01T05:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T05:29:36.593-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='performance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bobby mc ferren'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sheffield'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Festivals'/><title type='text'>Occupy Sheffield Dream</title><content type='html'>Dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occupy sheffield&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all heading down to the city center, as there is some important&lt;br /&gt;event going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something for everyone, that's the idea for this event... I am&lt;br /&gt;attracted to the free workshops, music and healing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet Ruth, she is on a motorbike, a red one. We set off together for&lt;br /&gt;the city center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we get there, there is a big football match just starting up. I&lt;br /&gt;get involved. Something seems odd about the football pitch... One of&lt;br /&gt;the other players tells us that its a new football pitch.." It never&lt;br /&gt;used to be here, under neath this grass and soil is an old waste tip.&lt;br /&gt;Rubble and junk. They decided to cover it with a layer of top soil and&lt;br /&gt;turn it into a football pitch. In places the soil is only a few inches&lt;br /&gt;thick."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave playing football for a while and decide to go and see the&lt;br /&gt;herbalist who has set up stall for the day. The queue is really long,&lt;br /&gt;so I don't stay in it. There is too many other things I want to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a band playing on a stage and people are dancing to the&lt;br /&gt;music. The sound system they have got is really good, and you can hear&lt;br /&gt;everything really clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This band are quite good, but when they finish, some DJ comes on who&lt;br /&gt;plays some really bad tunes. Its so bad that at the end of one song I&lt;br /&gt;get really angry and want to break something... I notice how the music&lt;br /&gt;has a powerful effect on my emotions. This lady stood next to me also&lt;br /&gt;notices how it effects her emotions too, also invoking an angry&lt;br /&gt;response in her too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We find this a bit weird, like we have been brainwashed or something,&lt;br /&gt;so we wander away from the dark energy music, but just as we do, I&lt;br /&gt;hear a voice that sounds familiar. Its Bobby Mcferren!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is doing a solo vocal performance, and very few people are taking&lt;br /&gt;notice of him. I am so impressed that I get up close to try to video&lt;br /&gt;him performing. He notices me trying to catch him on film, and hands&lt;br /&gt;me the mic and says "tell the people who I am"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get all tense and nervous being put on the spot, and forget what his&lt;br /&gt;name is, .. "Bobby mcferren" I hear someone whisper to me. "Taby&lt;br /&gt;mcfaran" I say, confused, down the microphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its turns a few faces, and now he starts to do performance based upon&lt;br /&gt;his Shakespeare training. He talk about this special posture that old&lt;br /&gt;english actors were expert in, and proceeds to demonstrate this. Its&lt;br /&gt;all to do with the angle of the eyes and the head. "You can control&lt;br /&gt;peoples gaze by knowing what way to hold your head and angle your&lt;br /&gt;eyes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that it is quite captivating watching him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8569271280102318798?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8569271280102318798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/occupy-sheffield-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8569271280102318798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8569271280102318798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/occupy-sheffield-dream.html' title='Occupy Sheffield Dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1382597948424998519</id><published>2012-01-01T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T05:28:19.482-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smoking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manchester'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='garden design'/><title type='text'>a series of dreams</title><content type='html'>Dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad was in the garden giving a talk about garden design,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this chinese student there,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bumped into a friend in manchester, calling at a random house.. It&lt;br /&gt;was a surprise meeting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've a new song I have writen,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go for a walk,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't play it here, this is a rough area of manchester"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was with the clan. We were spending time with trees. We had to&lt;br /&gt;channel the poetry of the trees into words to perform. Some of us also&lt;br /&gt;needed to cut down trees, so we needed to learn how to ask the trees&lt;br /&gt;to leave. I found sweet cycely, and simon liked it. There was a jewish&lt;br /&gt;ceremonial place at the front of the big house, where it was growing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been given a new allotment site on rustlings rd. It was a large&lt;br /&gt;double plot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met some friends who were building an enormous smoke, a giant 3&lt;br /&gt;meter long thing, enough for the whole city. We had to find the right&lt;br /&gt;way to smoke it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to go and find others to help us smoke it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met a lady who said to me, "The cool rain will be fairer to us than&lt;br /&gt;all the gold leaves"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1382597948424998519?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1382597948424998519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/series-of-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1382597948424998519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1382597948424998519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/series-of-dreams.html' title='a series of dreams'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-300582849740242853</id><published>2012-01-01T04:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T04:40:32.387-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teachers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reunion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anne marie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hugs'/><title type='text'>old school reunion</title><content type='html'>im at a festival in st maires school, my old primary school. like an old reunion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet Nageeb - he has a son now, who he shows to me. I meet francis, and we have a hug and a massage. I Meet Ruthy and Jessica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some youth are having a fight around my tent, they all start getting&lt;br /&gt;my sleeping bag and clothes mixed up in their fight, so I go in to&lt;br /&gt;sort it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they start back on me, and pile on. I'm trying to fight off 4 or&lt;br /&gt;5 of them at once. It all feels like a blurry dream as I have gone&lt;br /&gt;into a trance and cannot feel a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this special devise that tells me what I can and can't eat.&lt;br /&gt;Some people are doing wild food walks at the festival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reminded to continue my research into edible roots and edible fruits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see Thomas SK, and he is teaching a group of us, and he says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can tell you what you can do because I am tuned in, but as you are&lt;br /&gt;not, you don't know what to do. So you are best listening to me. This&lt;br /&gt;is what its like when you tune in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see that he is just being honest. This goes way back.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;Anne marie has sent me a text, - she is telling me to meet her&lt;br /&gt;somewhere down in devon to help her do this talk. She says I will like&lt;br /&gt;it, its very shamanic place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-300582849740242853?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/300582849740242853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-at-festival-in-st-maires-school-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/300582849740242853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/300582849740242853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-at-festival-in-st-maires-school-my.html' title='old school reunion'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7510979504457571856</id><published>2012-01-01T04:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T04:35:24.818-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fighting to the death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strangers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sculptures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ritual'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='witch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a cave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grotto'/><title type='text'>The Witch amd the Grotto of Death</title><content type='html'>I am chasing this witch, I'm not sure why, but she has a lot of wisdom&lt;br /&gt;I want to find out. she is a curious one. she loves to joke about sex. she refers to sex as "gettin yur meat" - jokes at me about meat, -&lt;br /&gt;"you've had some meat then? (meaning ive had some sex )  An someones ad yur meat too I imagine? " (someones shagged me). This witch wears lots of makeup and, trys to glam her self up to look younger than she is. She wears a red dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enter this ancient maze, - the stones have all been shaped this way&lt;br /&gt;and that, so as to try to lead you one way and another, but some&lt;br /&gt;deeper memory in me tells me I've been here before. And what's more, I&lt;br /&gt;want to catch up with the witch ahead of me. I cut across the winding&lt;br /&gt;path and find myself at the edge of a rocky cliff. Then there is this&lt;br /&gt;spiral path cut into the rock that leads down into the earth. I&lt;br /&gt;follow down as this is where the witch went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memories come back to me... The same murky green light, the incense&lt;br /&gt;smells... I enter into the giant chamber. There are a few people who&lt;br /&gt;have been following and they enter behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear them catch their breath as they enter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has an eerie beauty in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a amphitheatre with water tricking down in dark channels into&lt;br /&gt;a pool where the stage ought to be. The water trickles over gemstones&lt;br /&gt;that sound like underwater wind chimes, giving the space a surreal&lt;br /&gt;futuristic quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of islands in between the lake, and a path between&lt;br /&gt;them, and on both of them are some life size sculptures in stone,&lt;br /&gt;which are painted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them is of the spirit of death, yet he seems to have a pale&lt;br /&gt;flesh to him, and looks more like a peaceful zombie than the skeleton&lt;br /&gt;people associate with death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other island was a stone table and all these stone figures&lt;br /&gt;around the table, a family of figures sat down ready to eat a meal.&lt;br /&gt;The figures were carved by Henry more, and they had, like Death, been&lt;br /&gt;painted in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not a spooky place. On the contrary, it was a very peaceful place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat on the edge of this cliff in the dark and listened to the music&lt;br /&gt;of the gemstones. It was hypnotic. This guy comes and sits down beside&lt;br /&gt;me.&lt;br /&gt;"I always dreamed I would come to this place" he whispers to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I climb back up away from the edge of the cliff as I am afraid of&lt;br /&gt;slipping and falling into the water. At the back of the cave I see 2&lt;br /&gt;carved skulls, one slightly smaller than the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then realise that this is a grotto to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander down the amphitheater steps to the edge of the water. The&lt;br /&gt;other family follow. And then we witness an ancient ceremony to honor&lt;br /&gt;the spirit of this place. The stones come alive for a brief moment as&lt;br /&gt;this Green shaft of light penetrates the roof of the cave and&lt;br /&gt;illuminates the stage. The stone family eat some food. Death moves&lt;br /&gt;slowly around. The witch is witnessing all this in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;We go outside of the grotto now, and we meet these people playing this&lt;br /&gt;game. You can only get 'tug' if you are moving. - some people are are&lt;br /&gt;one team, some on another. And one group is catching, and the other&lt;br /&gt;are playing Stone giants. They need to rescue some one or something.&lt;br /&gt;So they need to move, but it is also strategic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7510979504457571856?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7510979504457571856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/witch-amd-grotto-of-death.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7510979504457571856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7510979504457571856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/witch-amd-grotto-of-death.html' title='The Witch amd the Grotto of Death'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8567340805194052272</id><published>2012-01-01T04:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T04:26:49.937-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ailsa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imogen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moggy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pete'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lizzie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anne marie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghosts'/><title type='text'>an inspiring talk</title><content type='html'>I meet moggy- allotments, we going to play this game of football,&lt;br /&gt;pete, other new rootsy people with me, we watch 3 guys eating bacon&lt;br /&gt;sandwiches, best bits - poor people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doorways, glass - we moving things as well. meet 2 new people, want to&lt;br /&gt;get involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Joe, has ME - he complains about how bad everything is for him. -&lt;br /&gt;in park. Really bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet conor. He decides he wants to come along.&lt;br /&gt;Music amazing, he does some singing. Totally captivating. Sings a&lt;br /&gt;james brown song to me. Adriano, and fred with me. I play something&lt;br /&gt;back to conor. He like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I show him smudging techniques - rosemary, lavender sage, etc. Why&lt;br /&gt;people used to smudge. Conor curious, - the purging is going too fast&lt;br /&gt;for him. He needs to slow down on it, otherwise too full on. Smudging&lt;br /&gt;will help him with transition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to give a talk about growing to this group of people, with this&lt;br /&gt;lady I not met.&lt;br /&gt;This had been arranged for this school group and community allotment group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After football. - we never get there. I have kept going back to get&lt;br /&gt;things. Pots of pans and such like. But time has run out and I have to&lt;br /&gt;give the talk. This other lady begins. And she begins simply by asking&lt;br /&gt;questions to people , getting them to do the talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I think she is wasting a lot of our precious time, she seems&lt;br /&gt;like a new age hippy, and I don't think she knows what she is talking&lt;br /&gt;about, (conor has already walked out, this is not the place for him)&lt;br /&gt;but she gets people talking in this special way thinking deeply aboout&lt;br /&gt;why they are here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The questions continue until this little boy mentions ghosts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And what do the ghosts want us to do?' I ask him. Everyone is listening&lt;br /&gt;expectantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Use our gifts, strengths and talents to make the world a better place." he answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lady then gets us to talk about how we can do this. Its all a big&lt;br /&gt;facilitation. I spot AM in the crowds. She has been behind this all&lt;br /&gt;along. She knows this lady I'm working with. Its milly jackdaw. And I&lt;br /&gt;can now see ailsa. We have a good hug. Milly is a lot more magical&lt;br /&gt;than I had at first guessed. Alys turns up and we have a good hug. I&lt;br /&gt;chase AM and we have a fun wrestle game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to this hospital, and met this doctor who was a sexual health&lt;br /&gt;doctor, and I showed him this fungal infection on my groin area, and he&lt;br /&gt;told me what to do to heal it. It involved a change of my perspective&lt;br /&gt;around relationships, and a loosening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet imogen, and we have sneeked into this building where they are&lt;br /&gt;having conferences, and we eat lots of tasty food, and leave before we&lt;br /&gt;get found out. We have a good hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet lizzie, and some friends, and her friends are telling me about&lt;br /&gt;how her diet has to change ,- the damage caused to her gut, means that&lt;br /&gt;she needs different food than most people. Needs a lot of good food,&lt;br /&gt;and nurture to her gut. Nourishing dense foods that are easy to&lt;br /&gt;digest. Plus herbs that will aid digestion.&lt;br /&gt;Smokers place, I show them thing, funny, was a new age healing video,&lt;br /&gt;it turns into song, I'm a believer by the monkeys, but its a new version.. . Meet new people. Friends of&lt;br /&gt;john. We have a smoke together. Met bristol graffiti artists scene.&lt;br /&gt;D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8567340805194052272?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8567340805194052272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/inspiring-talk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8567340805194052272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8567340805194052272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/inspiring-talk.html' title='an inspiring talk'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-825114334071200549</id><published>2012-01-01T04:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T04:10:46.416-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='naked'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='free canabis'/><title type='text'>adams new place</title><content type='html'>planing a trip, a trip to countryside vans with friends ,&lt;br /&gt;to stay over night in derbishre. we were going to hire a van. Hire a van. Some law&lt;br /&gt;about sleeping in vans on roads is stopping us. We try to find a way&lt;br /&gt;around. I am naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam has a new place, and has key to it, it was his Uncles.  His Uncle sold millions of footballs at a cheeper price than the conventional, so has now bought a new place and given adam the keys to this place. &lt;br /&gt;who uses it? no one at the moment. It is up on hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream where I Met Free canabis in his place in glastonbury, I asked&lt;br /&gt;you what you had been up to, you had been learning about permaculture,&lt;br /&gt;and now you were looking for some place to live in spain, close to the&lt;br /&gt;land, and you were going to go back there to live. I was pleased that&lt;br /&gt;I had got to see you before you went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Transplanting elecampange root&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jude, - one day more, now its seed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Healing with tara, tells me to open one eye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-825114334071200549?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/825114334071200549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/adams-new-place.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/825114334071200549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/825114334071200549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2012/01/adams-new-place.html' title='adams new place'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2580039764152799960</id><published>2011-12-24T03:57:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T04:01:19.421-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hiding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='danger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jesus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dragons'/><title type='text'>solstice dream</title><content type='html'>Chapter 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bike spring has been taken, stolen from this kid, and now he can't&lt;br /&gt;ride his bike. We need to get it back to this kid, as he needs it to&lt;br /&gt;ride his bike, but before I can do this I needed permission of some&lt;br /&gt;important church person, as this spring is in the church, but instead&lt;br /&gt;I ended up just taking it, now the sleeping church dragon had been&lt;br /&gt;woken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It had been woken because I had I took it out of the church, and he&lt;br /&gt;was some kind of guardian of this spring the kid needed, as it  gave&lt;br /&gt;him his power. The dragon had stolen it a long time ago, and now he&lt;br /&gt;knew it was missing and he was seeking for the one who took it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hiding in case I was found, as this is a dangerous dragon. I was&lt;br /&gt;afraid, and scared that something would reveal me as the one who woke&lt;br /&gt;the church dragon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told by mike turner, my god father, what to do to make my self&lt;br /&gt;safe. He said it should be ok.&lt;br /&gt;I was worried that the dragon could see me where ever I was, could see&lt;br /&gt;through walls and such like, and find me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt like a very dangerous energy that had been awakened. Somehow&lt;br /&gt;it was tied in with the fate of this girl.&lt;br /&gt;We now have to do a special magic as part of returning this spring to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To do this magic, we need his permission to do it, as it involved&lt;br /&gt;using magic to get this spring back from the dragon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was scared, like we, as we knew now the reason for some of the&lt;br /&gt;awful things that had happened, as a consequence of this theft. We had told him, as he needed to know, and we had cried together, holding him in my arms. Now he had agreed he agreed, and we prepare for our special magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to get the spring back to the boy, and mend the boys&lt;br /&gt;bicycle, and so restore peace and harmony in the land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chapter 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this special magic spell  I wanted a jesus moment, as I felt it&lt;br /&gt;was what was needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My friend Christopher mason from st Thomas Church turns up when I&lt;br /&gt;call him. He had been hiding in the bushes on Crooksmoor rd, and now&lt;br /&gt;he is ready, dressed in full Jesus outfit.  It is a true st Thomas&lt;br /&gt;church moment - Jesus Christ super star at its best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The People are watching, and its all gona be ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2580039764152799960?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2580039764152799960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/12/solstice-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2580039764152799960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2580039764152799960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/12/solstice-dream.html' title='solstice dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1516354266312671848</id><published>2011-12-24T03:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T03:57:41.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>city food growing</title><content type='html'>I am in this house in walkley, not far from rosa's, busy doing&lt;br /&gt;something, I think I am playing piano, or drawing or reading, and&lt;br /&gt;The kid from next door&lt;br /&gt;Keeps knocking on the door and telling me to come round. I am not sure&lt;br /&gt;why he wants me to come so much, but he tells me that they are making&lt;br /&gt;a big fire and they need help. I agree to help them. It has been&lt;br /&gt;raining such a lot,&lt;br /&gt;So I tell him to find dry wood in the cellar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go visit them, via our back garden space, as the gardens are all&lt;br /&gt;connected.  I notice that they have done some very impressive things&lt;br /&gt;with the garden. I wander through it. They have a large back garden,&lt;br /&gt;which includes lots of vegetable space, plus a number of tall sycamore&lt;br /&gt;trees in a line, a patch of grass, a patio, and more. It looks like&lt;br /&gt;they have taken on the neighbors back garden too. I am very impressed,&lt;br /&gt;so I go to knock on their back door to show my appreciation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother of the child is cooking in the large kitchen, and there is&lt;br /&gt;a quirky old piano in the kitchen too. It feels a very open style&lt;br /&gt;house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tells me Adam and liz have moved house to this new space, they are&lt;br /&gt;renting out cundy street.&lt;br /&gt;I talk to her about growing and such like. The house is the second&lt;br /&gt;from the end of the road, next to T junction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1516354266312671848?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1516354266312671848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/12/city-food-growing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1516354266312671848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1516354266312671848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/12/city-food-growing.html' title='city food growing'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-262391459579901013</id><published>2011-12-24T03:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-24T03:56:58.661-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attraction'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='floods'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><title type='text'>christmas and the flood</title><content type='html'>Its christmas time, and we are all getting ready with presents. I have&lt;br /&gt;to go and hide some stuff that I don't want my parents to see... Now&lt;br /&gt;we are ready, and I am listening to some songs on youtube, and my&lt;br /&gt;family are with me. There is this one particular song I really wanted&lt;br /&gt;to play them by this female singer, it was all about this emotional&lt;br /&gt;thing. We are all finding things to show one another. I end finding&lt;br /&gt;this nature documentary program.&lt;br /&gt;We watch it, it is really exciting. These guys have killed cheetahs&lt;br /&gt;and are wading through this swamp with the skins and heads of them on&lt;br /&gt;there back, like a living cheetah moving on water. It looks scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been drawn into the film and now I'm with these guys. We come&lt;br /&gt;across some huge water buffalo... There has been a flood and some of&lt;br /&gt;them got washed away... Also there are some broken village huts up&lt;br /&gt;ahead, with a little group of people stood outside. We go and join&lt;br /&gt;them to help them get their feet back on the ground after this&lt;br /&gt;devastation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this mother and 3 girls, one in her teens, the other&lt;br /&gt;two slightly younger. Since they have had lots of their stuff swept away,&lt;br /&gt;they are trying to salvage what they can. The eldest of the girls&lt;br /&gt;looks at me and realises that I find her attractive. She has got&lt;br /&gt;nicely formed breasts and is topless.&lt;br /&gt;I try to look away, as I don't want to get distracted from helping them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the younger 2 are having a conversation. One of them is soaking&lt;br /&gt;wet, and cold so they strike a deal to swap clothes, the other one&lt;br /&gt;being the warmer and drier of the two. As they remove their clothes, I&lt;br /&gt;can't help myself but look at their naked bodys, and find them&lt;br /&gt;atractive. Yet, I am naked too, and their mother is here, and I must&lt;br /&gt;use all my will power to not show my lust, and to fight off sexual&lt;br /&gt;urges. After all, these girls are just kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we have to do a dance, and all of a sudden it is a house party,&lt;br /&gt;and I meet an old house mate who is attracted to me. We are dancing to&lt;br /&gt;some electronic beat music, and having a great time. We chat and catch&lt;br /&gt;up with one another. The mother and these girls are all here, dancing&lt;br /&gt;too, this time fully dressed and happy.&lt;br /&gt; ----&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-262391459579901013?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/262391459579901013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-and-flood.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/262391459579901013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/262391459579901013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-and-flood.html' title='christmas and the flood'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5131172403744739089</id><published>2011-11-19T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T14:52:03.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>man in the snow</title><content type='html'>Man in the snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling through the snow, dangerous, many miles of snow, eventually I see familiar ground, know I need to stop. Somehow manage to survive. See john G and meet him by a lampost. I'm able to comunicate psyicallying with him. We arrived together after the snow journey, through the mountais. This is where iwas heading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John simeon - prove his theorys right and also wrong. Both papers. &lt;br /&gt;Wooden knife make, special steel wood. Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5131172403744739089?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5131172403744739089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/man-in-snow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5131172403744739089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5131172403744739089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/man-in-snow.html' title='man in the snow'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4132171697182377882</id><published>2011-11-19T14:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T14:50:13.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>note form dream</title><content type='html'>House stuck from my parents, knew people &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caren dave going to move, idea of selling house, all windows were boarded up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the course. &lt;br /&gt;Listening to allot music.&lt;br /&gt; I wanted tobe o own, had to go down these stairs all in a line. My music accomanied me on hedphones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe talking about eash peach pear plum. Leanna remembered it, I struggles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More at course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asking me if I was ok,&lt;br /&gt;Some people next door,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4132171697182377882?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4132171697182377882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/note-form-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4132171697182377882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4132171697182377882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/note-form-dream.html' title='note form dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7623758503240282845</id><published>2011-11-19T14:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T14:45:32.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dream in note form</title><content type='html'>Meet goddess&lt;br /&gt;Dressing gown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad - arrested - stopped by police, beers in front - I say checked on his card. Dilemma he in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cornwall, beach, AM, on boats on river. She tells me about japanese nudist community, go for walk, she did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe brother - at community space. Like coed, lots of people around. We playing games. I Talking about smoking, I give away smoke stuff. To people they really appreciate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7623758503240282845?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7623758503240282845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/dream-in-note-form.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7623758503240282845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7623758503240282845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/dream-in-note-form.html' title='dream in note form'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-9075340379601920202</id><published>2011-11-19T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T14:42:38.067-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the secret bad guy</title><content type='html'>There was this bad guy. He was a boss, and wanted to be Lord of All. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was very manipulative, and was trying to make us all his slaves. And me and my friends had discovered this, we knew the secret, and so we were trying to find ways to not become slaves to this guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this big field. And we were looking for somewhere to smoke some weed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this bad guy had the power to control the weather, and I had managed to sneak inside his hidden rooms inside his giant mansion. And I was meant to do something when I was in there, I had to get his special files, and destroy them and so destroy his power. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the secret files on his computer system that gave him all his power.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-9075340379601920202?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/9075340379601920202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/secret-bad-guy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/9075340379601920202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/9075340379601920202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/secret-bad-guy.html' title='the secret bad guy'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2862463814039523405</id><published>2011-11-09T04:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T05:07:54.357-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rich'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giant sweet chestnut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fruit trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vandalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='orchards'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daniele'/><title type='text'>the Spirals on  the Hill</title><content type='html'>I'm walking with daniele through the park. &lt;br /&gt;We journey down a gorge, with steep sides. The sides get steeper as we walk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stop at place where there was once a party. We find out that it was someone we know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we wander over the party space, we notice a spiral pattern on the hill. Its three S shaped patterns, 1 large central S and 2 smaller S shapes above and below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We notice that there are old orchards around this area. We are near Bath. We notice that the old orchards have been vandalized. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are planting little baby trees as hedging, which spiral around the spiral pattern on the ground. The hedging is quite small and vulnerable.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rich clare is showing my dad and this older council guy round his growing spaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a tent with a couple of friends. We have found a giant sweet chestnut, which we are storing in a paper bag. Its the size of a rugby ball.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2862463814039523405?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2862463814039523405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/spirals-on-hill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2862463814039523405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2862463814039523405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/spirals-on-hill.html' title='the Spirals on  the Hill'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2989485224387547009</id><published>2011-11-09T04:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T04:58:40.914-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adriano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Joe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sweating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>friendships and sweating</title><content type='html'>I'm with Adriano. Our friendship has grown again. This time we are back in his old house looking at the spaces between the rooms. We share some smoke, and chat to his brother Guiseppe. We also have a look round the old sweetshop next door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now with my brother Joe, and we are taking part in this cleansing ceremony. It involves lots of sauna style sweating. About 4 days of constant sweating, with breaks in between. It is very intense, and I take longer breaks in between, to recover from all the heat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2989485224387547009?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2989485224387547009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/friendships-and-sweating.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2989485224387547009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2989485224387547009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/friendships-and-sweating.html' title='friendships and sweating'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4304964294123940853</id><published>2011-11-09T04:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T04:53:45.037-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild food walks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='play'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='may'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='november'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='celebrations'/><title type='text'>the light and the dark, wild food.</title><content type='html'>I've come up to the housing estate to find some friends who I've not seen in a while. The kids see me coming, and start chasing me; its a game we have been playing each time I come up. I resist playing as I have work to do, but then my own inner child gets the better of me, and I'm chasing them round, trying to be as scary as I can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light is going, its getting dark, and I imagine their parents will be out to look for them soon, but a strange thing is afoot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its November round the back of the flats, but round the front, on the sunny side, its May. The adults are all out celebrating May day, the start of summer, with games of football and cricket and such like.&lt;br /&gt;They are not worried about their children because to them it is broad day light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I bump into one of my friends, and he says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Steve, have you come to do a wild food walk? Everyone is interested"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was resistant, as I thought it was November, but as it also seems to be May, then I decide yes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great!" My friend says, "let's get everyone together!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rally round the flats and send texts to everyone. I want Michel to come on it, as I know he is interested, but his phone is not working. He lives at number 70 but, as I've experienced before, its not so easy finding number 70! It is hidden somewhere unusual...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone waits patently as we look for Michel's flat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4304964294123940853?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4304964294123940853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/light-and-dark-wild-food.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4304964294123940853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4304964294123940853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/light-and-dark-wild-food.html' title='the light and the dark, wild food.'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-6606621644123136576</id><published>2011-11-09T04:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T04:50:32.376-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cheese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='biodynamics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='horns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><title type='text'>feasting, and biodynamic horn</title><content type='html'>We are sitting down having a family meal, and Dad is encouraging me to eat more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just try these tasty cheeses!" He urges, and "why don't you try some of this meat?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thinks I'm starving my self...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You need to put on a bit of weight; look at you! You're so thin!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a point, I am not over weight, that's for sure, and the foods in front of me look very tasty indeed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just remember St Patrick" he says, "he looked after cows, and had a special cow horn like this one" . He shows me the cow horn, which can be played like a trumpet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, I really want one of those!" I say. Perhaps I can make special biodynamic preparations using this cow horn....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-6606621644123136576?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6606621644123136576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/feasting-and-biodynamic-horn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6606621644123136576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6606621644123136576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/feasting-and-biodynamic-horn.html' title='feasting, and biodynamic horn'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-576083917830047128</id><published>2011-11-09T04:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T04:46:26.506-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='injury'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby'/><title type='text'>fallen baby</title><content type='html'>I'm in the care of this baby. My mum has been looking after him, and now she passes him to me to look after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just keep an eye on him" she says. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This baby crawls along, and seems pretty indestructible, as he seems to flex and bounce off nearly everything he does, as babies do. The stairs are no chalenge, he crawls over them. The sofas, the furniture, he seems, as such a young age to have mastery of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of a sudden this baby does a flip forward, and concertinas himself; he's all squashed up, and his folds of skin are bulging out to lessen the fall. I straighten him out, but now he's not breathing. I panic! I try to get breath into him, the first aid method. It doesn't work. I run with him, starting to go blue, to find my mum. I find her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, he's quite prone to doing that", mum says casually. She holds his body in a special position and start resusitating him. Thank god I've got Mum around!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-576083917830047128?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/576083917830047128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/fallen-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/576083917830047128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/576083917830047128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/fallen-baby.html' title='fallen baby'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-9180613043930410900</id><published>2011-11-02T01:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T02:00:56.030-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='robbery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wrong ways'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><title type='text'>Stolen bike</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to get to my friends house in pitsmoor in sheffield. I keep&lt;br /&gt;taking the wrong turns, thinking its higher up the hill than it really&lt;br /&gt;is... On the third time I go wrong, I get off my bike, and walk back&lt;br /&gt;to the turning I had just passed to check if it was the right one. Why&lt;br /&gt;I got off my bike I don't know, but I walked passed three lads who saw&lt;br /&gt;that I had left my bike up against the wall, and they started running&lt;br /&gt;to nick it. I ran back to beat them to it, but it was no use. Its hard&lt;br /&gt;to run sometimes in dreams..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-9180613043930410900?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/9180613043930410900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/stolen-bike.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/9180613043930410900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/9180613043930410900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/stolen-bike.html' title='Stolen bike'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7991275272988798226</id><published>2011-11-02T01:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T01:59:29.881-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sudden excitement.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sadness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandonment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>Abandonment</title><content type='html'>Abandonment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling on my bike through Bath, going to meet my parents there.&lt;br /&gt;When I meet them, they are with AM and her family. I am so excited to&lt;br /&gt;see them, that I give her and JA a massive hug before anyone else. I&lt;br /&gt;can't believe they are really here. Its the nicest surprise in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go to a place where we will eat lunch, and then the plan is to go&lt;br /&gt;to the cinema in the afternoon to watch a film. I'm really surprised&lt;br /&gt;to see JE at the meal. I have a long chat to her about things, about&lt;br /&gt;what she's been up to and such like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I'm eating my lunch, I keep thinking about JA, and glance over&lt;br /&gt;to her, to remind myself how beautiful she is. And all of a sudden I&lt;br /&gt;look up, and everyone has gone. They have left me to finish my lunch&lt;br /&gt;on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get up and go to look for them, though I've no idea which way they&lt;br /&gt;have gone. I must find them, especially, because I must see JA again,&lt;br /&gt;I love her so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find my mum in a shop and ask her where they have gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They've gone to see the film they were planning"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to see that! Why did no one tell me they were going?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They didn't know you wanted to see it, and you were still eating"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really upset and angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me where the cinema is and ill go there now,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It will have already started", mum says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can still get in though, can't I?" I say hopefully. I'm not really&lt;br /&gt;bothered about seeing the film really, I just must see JA again. But&lt;br /&gt;its easier to say to my mum that I really want to see the film, than&lt;br /&gt;to explain my love I feel for JA...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7991275272988798226?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7991275272988798226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/abandonment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7991275272988798226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7991275272988798226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/abandonment.html' title='Abandonment'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1314080791880021122</id><published>2011-11-02T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T01:57:43.123-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Babs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rosa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Discipline'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mud'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gardens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oscar the cat'/><title type='text'>A mix of dreams</title><content type='html'>The house,&lt;br /&gt;I'd left my recording device out side, someone rescues it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ornamental - flowers&lt;br /&gt;Very neat n tidy, I had got mud over the mat very badly. I had to climb round the side of the house on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i meet Babs in an upstairs room. She is lying on her back, looking at the stars through the sky light window, She says that she cant imagine what it would be like to not be able to do this, to look at the stars. Its her favourite thing in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rosa has taken up a online geography degree, a course that I was doing, so we&lt;br /&gt;could compare notes, she was getting a lot more writing done than me, which i was a bit jealous of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shed written some thing as a critique of my own writings that I was&lt;br /&gt;dead keen on getting my hands on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jude had taken up gardening, had lots of things growing in pots down&lt;br /&gt;the side of the house. She loves it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oscar had caught a big rat that we didn't want him to catch. It&lt;br /&gt;worried us, as we kept taking it off him, and then he'd pounce right&lt;br /&gt;back on. I had to take Oscar and bash him on the ground each time he&lt;br /&gt;tried to jump on Ratty, just so that it would knock some discipline&lt;br /&gt;into him. He needed to learn what he can catch and what he can't. This&lt;br /&gt;ratty holds lots of important info, and is a special friend of ours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1314080791880021122?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1314080791880021122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/mix-of-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1314080791880021122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1314080791880021122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/11/mix-of-dreams.html' title='A mix of dreams'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4392499925768214856</id><published>2011-09-22T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T05:40:39.184-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='KRS-one'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ME'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird fish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dancing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Festivals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attacked'/><title type='text'>weird Fish</title><content type='html'>I'm traveling through a big building, and there are people who are living in different rooms in the building. Its like a big communal house. I meet up with conor, and we meet Rupert, and then there is a fire alarm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has to get out of the building, but rupert is not able to get out because he is too ill, because of his ME. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maria is here, and she is worried about rupert, and she thinks that Conor doesn't understand how bad ME is, and she thinks that Rupert needs more attention, yet conor argues with maria and says he does understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we go outside of the house we see lots of people dancing, and we meet KRS-one. He is doing a new dance form that has just been invented. Its a bit like breakdancing but cooler! Its like you hold a pose, a bit like street art performance, and you had to hold it for a minute, and then hold another pose, and move subtly during each pose. He was able to shapeshift his body to suit the pose as well. It was the coolest way of dancing. I tried to do some, but it was not as cool as KRS one. Lots of people turned up and started dancing in this new way, in the street, by holding poses. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very individualistic style of dancing, and music is playing at a pavilion in town, its a sunny day, and I see one lady who is on ice skates spinning round really fast, and she looks at me very intensely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conor has had a baby called Leo, after the sun sign Leo, and he is worried that the baby has ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;I'm at a festival and I'm wandering around looking at all the different stalls and the people at the festival, and each of the stalls you have to score points, its like a competition to see who can score the most points. There's games like scoring a goal and knocking off a coconut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really get involved that much. I see a Mystic meg stall and one of Jude's challenges is that she has to see mystic meg while naked, and there's a tree stall which turned you upsidedown but you had to be naked to go on it. And there's this old woman who can see right through you. I see Ruth, and we catch one another's eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm down by the harbor, and I meet someone who is down in the sands who is depressed, and he's either going to kill himself or kill someone else, he has gone a bit insane. And I say, let's see if we can catch a Fish! So, he throws a fork into the sea, and spears a fish, just like that! We go down into the water to collect it, and I think That was fun! And then he threatened to kill me with the sharp tool that he had, so I had to make sure that there was lots of fish to catch, so that he didn't kill me, so I turned around to look for more fish to catch, and I see lots of unusual sea creatures that I don't know if you can eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I collect up the most unusual ones, and I meet a sea food expert an he has these wellies on to stop him getting wet, and were looking at these unusual sea creatures, a really flat one, and he showing me a virus on it, which. You have to scrape off with your finger, then its fine. And he shows me how to do this. Its called Sea Bass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's this squid one which has a round head and octopus like tentacles coming off it, and then we see the strangest one,  it is like a floating flying sourser shape , looking like a mini yurt, about 1 ft across, floating on the water, and flashing little lights, and it has bright illumonous tentacles that spread out aout 2 meters on the ocean waves, and it has these other bright white lights that move up and down like tentacles,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; and I watch these creatures bobbing about floating on the waves, making this incredible light display, as impressive as the northern lights, and I have a moment where I think this is the most beautiful thing in the world, and I can see church spires in the back ground, and then I decide I want to come down here to live, and I am convinced. Lost in the beauty of it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And at that point I am back in the festival, I get in a fight with a meat producer because I'm hanging out close to a vegetarian stall, and I'm getting attacked by this person, he is hitting me on the head with giant legs of lamb. And I get hit by a flying lump of frozen meat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at this jazz gig, and we are all sat in chairs like cinema chairs, and we are watching john coltrain and miles davis, its amazing. But as the evening progresses the acts get worse and worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is sat to the left of me and mike turner is sat to the right, and we are making comments on the acts, luke comments on one of the acts, it was someone trying to be very showy, a singer painted up, with a fake mustache, and she is giving a really fake performance, and I say to luke that my dad won't like this act.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4392499925768214856?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4392499925768214856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/09/weird-fish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4392499925768214856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4392499925768214856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/09/weird-fish.html' title='weird Fish'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3595278679999320199</id><published>2011-08-30T03:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T01:48:59.818-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heroic corage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jobs'/><title type='text'>Flying experiments</title><content type='html'>I'm with anne marie, joe and Jasmine. Jasmine is looking through a magazine trying to find a job. She spots a job that appeals to her, its all about film. She has found a love for acting and theatre, and performance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now with my family and a few friends. We are down a little cave, which is a dead end. We are sheltering here. Some enemy is trying to find us. He finds us, and we have to hide in the cave and fight him off, with weapons. His weapons are more effective than ours, he is throwing grenades into the cave. I keep throwing them back out, and james says that's not the right thing to do, but I say what else can we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has machine guns, and is firing at us. Some of us get killed. There is a crack like a trench to our right, into the hillside, and we chuck the grenades that he is throwing at us down there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of us escape from the enemy, because we have learnt how to fly a bit. It involves jumping into the air and flapping your arms as fast as you can. I am quite good at it, but not as good as Jude, she has been practicing it since she was a kid, and is now very experienced with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The challenge is to learn how to go in a straight line when flying, its very easy to go round in circles, but that doesn't get you very far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike turner is curious about our flying experiments... We are now in a PE hall and we are demonstrating the flying techniques we have learnt. I need to teach Joe how to do some flying, because he really struggled to get away from the enemy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ouside, I can see a dirt track in front of me, and I see St Maximillian on the track, he is helping the poor and sick people. He has a look of compassion in his eyes. He is not afraid of the enemy, and does not need to fly because he is not afraid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3595278679999320199?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3595278679999320199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/job-for-jazmine-being-atacked-flying.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3595278679999320199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3595278679999320199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/job-for-jazmine-being-atacked-flying.html' title='Flying experiments'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2097014721369074407</id><published>2011-08-30T03:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T03:12:00.489-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='riot kid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magic spinning top'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='james'/><title type='text'>Church and the kid from the riots</title><content type='html'>I'm with my family and we are getting ready to go to church. I haven't been for ages, so I get lots of stuff together to take with me, as I want to feel at home when I get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take with me pictures to hang on the wall, a basket of toys and things, a large mirror to look at my self in, and a very large fiberglass spinning top on a stand,  about the size of a basket ball, but bigger. It is all shiny and it is a magic object, but I don't know it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we get to church, we are late. As usual, we sit at the front, and in full view of every one sitting behind us, I get out all my things,  and set them up around me, hanging the pictures on the wall next to the large mirror, and arranging all my toys and stuff around me on the bench. I plan on having a good time at church! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum is shocked at me, "why have you brought all this stuff, you never used to be like this, look at all the mess and distraction its causing".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what she means, all my stuff is distracting people from the alter at the front of the church. The magic fiberglass spinning top is the most distracting, so dad decides to put it on the corner of the alter so as to bring peoples attention back to the mass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He places the spinning top in a special dish, and it starts to spin. At first its quite a gentle spin, but then it starts to get faster and faster, and as it does, it changes shape, circular to oval, and back again, in a watery like motion, and changing into many different colours, reds, purples, blues, pinks, yellows, like a marbling effect, with inks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is totally hypnotizing, and it has caught a few peoples attention. As it spins faster it starts to sway from side to side, moving around in its dish, and soon, I think it will fall out onto the alter or the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does fall out, and when it does, everyone is watching it. Dad jumps up to pick it up off the floor, and mum tells him to leave it, as him picking it up will be an even bigger distraction than the fact that it is now spinning around in the isle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm with james and we are walking through the streets of london. Down by the docks we meet a young kid who has just got out of prison. He was one of the kids from the recent riots. He is an abandoned kid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; He is bored, and to keep away the boredom he has been playing games down at the docks, with other kids, making games up around the waterside. There is this one game that is a slide down a slippery walkway into the water, yet at the bottom is a wooden board to stop you falling to deep into the water. Your feet hit the water, then stop on the board making a splash which hits you back in the face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tells me to give it a go, which I do, and it is quite fun, but I can see that this doesn't really do it for him. Now he tells us that he is an expert at breaking into buildings and understanding police behavior. He tells us to follow him round the back of some shops, which we do. The back door to one of the shops in unlocked, and he knocks. There is no one in the shop so he opens the door and walks in. He shows us round inside this shop, it is an antique shop with lots of unusual bits and bobs, and then he shows us how to hide from the police. He sets off the alarm system on purpose, and then shows us a hiding place hidden in the walls so that when the police turn up they cannot find us. This is what he really likes to do. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2097014721369074407?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2097014721369074407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/church-and-kid-from-riots.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2097014721369074407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2097014721369074407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/church-and-kid-from-riots.html' title='Church and the kid from the riots'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8457270445462801637</id><published>2011-08-20T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T18:24:01.234-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plants for a future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anne marie'/><title type='text'>Uma the Tiger</title><content type='html'>I'm with a friend or two, and I'm asking them about the Italian king and queen, "what are they up to?", I ask. &lt;br /&gt;I am told that they are over in Japan, trying to rob and steal as much stuff as they can, and earn as much as they can, cashing in on the back of the floods and earth quakes that have recently affected Japan. There seems to be no mercy in what they are doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now at Plants for a future, and I am with Anne-marie and Alys. We are watching a video, its all about Uma the tiger, a tiger that was, until recently, living at Plants for a future, and has since been away, somewhere tropical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma is quite a unique tiger; orphaned at birth, she was brought up on only raw milk and steamed broccoli. &lt;br /&gt;Once Uma tried to catch a golden eagle on site, but she didn't have the speed needed. Domestication had played its part, and what is more, is that Uma always insisted on wearing trainers on her paws; despite the fact that they slowed her down, she loved the tracks that they made in the sand.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We only just missed meeting Uma, and she will be back again at some point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8457270445462801637?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8457270445462801637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/uma-tiger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8457270445462801637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8457270445462801637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/uma-tiger.html' title='Uma the Tiger'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3686067916163516143</id><published>2011-08-20T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T18:08:25.424-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shiro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seeking for a home'/><title type='text'>Shiro Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I'm with daniele, david and a few others from sheffield,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are looking for shiro houses, as a number of new properties have come to our attention. And we are looking to land again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see a number of places that could be used, one in particular- it has a field next to it, loads of land but its really quite small, inside, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know instinctively, that this place won't work, it is too isolated.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I am surprised at how many properties there are around the east and south of sheffield that have land surrounding them. People are forming a community based on the land out here, but it will take along time to join it all together. There is so much space, each house has at least a field each.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive down a long hill, there are houses dotted in fields , spread out, space between, colourful are the houses. I drive past a grave yard, right by the river, the river don. We drive back prince of wales rd. Saskia drives us, as its too dangerous for me to drive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3686067916163516143?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3686067916163516143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/shiro-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3686067916163516143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3686067916163516143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/shiro-dream.html' title='Shiro Dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-598369638774631038</id><published>2011-08-20T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T18:07:17.036-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='churches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><title type='text'>New wave</title><content type='html'>Me and my family have been visiting a church in Italy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very old catholic church that still kept up all the old songs and prayers in latin. There were very old sculptures and paintings in the building, and the caretaker, an old woman, was showing us round. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander off to see some bits of the church that are deep underground, and somehow or other, I get separated from my family and can't find them anywhere. I find the old woman and ask her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Language is an interesting thing, is it not?" She seems to be saying, in a irish accent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are stood at the doors of the church, which has these interesting holes in for looking out of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have learnt all the languages from working in this place" she continues, "I can translate all the prayers, and I cannot help but cry in adoration for the mysteries".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is clearly a very devote catholic, and has been working for the church all her life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask her where my family have gone, and she tells me that they have got on a bus. This means they are heading back to the airport to get the plane. I must catch them up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She shows me the bus to catch, which incidentally, has the same holes through it, as the doors of the church have, there is a significance to this she tells me, but I can't remember what that was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get on a bus to take me to the airport, but for some reason, it doesn't find its way there, and now I am lost in a big transport interchange system, and it seems there are loads of traffic jams, slowing everything up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask around for help, and show an assistant my plane ticket. We look at the time, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The plane leaves at 1130" he says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This gives me plenty of time" I say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not really, it will take you quite a while to get there, leave at least an hour to get there, and then half an hour to get through the airport."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's right, I need to get moving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He points me in the direction of a lift which will take me to another level, and from there I can get the right bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get on the lift. It is huge, big enough for cars to fit in. It takes me up, and now I am in another lift with lots of people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a young lady talking to everyone on the lift, answering peoples questions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The questions are all about sex, and the young lady is something of an authority on the subject. In fact she is an initiate in this new wave of sex culture that has begun in italy, which has its roots in eastern tantric practices, and seeks to liberate and refresh sex in the west from old cold traditional methods of sex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young guy asks about how to charm his girlfriend more, as there sex has become boring, and she says it becomes a lot like acting, pretending you don't really want it, and the importance of humor, to lighten the serious attitude some people take. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lift stops, and instead of there being another bus, there is a cafe which we all walk into. Its one of these lastest sex cafes, where people exchange information on positions, sex practices, and also to meet new people. The young lady tells us to feel at ease, explore and have fun. I sit down at a table and slowly absorb my new surroundings. I have forgotten about my plane.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-598369638774631038?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/598369638774631038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/new-sex-culture.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/598369638774631038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/598369638774631038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/new-sex-culture.html' title='New wave'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4435646388201096142</id><published>2011-08-20T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T18:05:27.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shiro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Joe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paranoia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost'/><title type='text'>philosophy and escape</title><content type='html'>I'm having a conversation with Fred, Oli, Rosa, and Pete, and maybe a few others, and we are trying to make a decision on something....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went a bit like this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you look at the evidence then you will know what's going on outside of your imagining, and then you will know the right decision", someone says. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"but how much can we really know outside of our self?" I reply &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But that leads you into a whole philosophical discussion and that will take ages, we just need simple facts" Rosa says, and buries her head in the sofa because she doesn't have the energy or the desire for philosophy at this moment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, is not all knowledge based on ones human experience, weather through personal exploration or scientific inquiry?" Fred speculates...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We philosophize about the experience of nature of reality way into the night....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm heading back home. Brother Joe is driving, we are driving along Ecclesalle rd. &lt;br /&gt;We stop off at Barkley Precinct, and Joe gets out to go buy something from Tescos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see there is a few cash machines by the wall of some shops there, so I think about getting out some money, but this would mean I would be leaving the car, and I don't have keys so I stay, what is more is that there are some dodgy looking people stood by the machines, and surrounding them covering the wall and the machines is loads of crappy tagging and vandalism; scrawls with pens, bits of chewing gum stuck onto the screens, broken glass... It looks totally horrible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wait for ages, then realise that I need to find Joe to tell him to get me something, so I leave the car, trusting it will be ok. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police are everywhere now, and I get paranoid because I have a bit of weed in my pocket and they have dogs with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start to walk away up eccy rd, and put my hand in my pocket and pull out the packet I thought was weed, but it turns out to be welsh onion bulbs for planting. I also now remember that I was meant to be looking after the car while Joe was shopping. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I start making my way back to the car park, but for some reason I can find my way there. Joe will be wondering where I am, I think to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have completely lost the car, and I start to panic. My energy levels are low, and I'm starting to get blurry vision, from the hunger in my belly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stumbling along the street now, exhausted, and totally lost. I can't see where I'm going, and I am really worried. Why do I feel like this? &lt;br /&gt;I try to run, but my legs won't carry me. I decide that I need to trust the spirits to lead me home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now can see a bit more clearly, and I walk using all my remaining strength in the direction that the spirits tell me is home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4435646388201096142?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4435646388201096142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/philosophy-and-escape.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4435646388201096142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4435646388201096142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/philosophy-and-escape.html' title='philosophy and escape'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-797183713158290681</id><published>2011-08-20T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T18:01:11.943-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='noah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bits'/><title type='text'>Bill Clintons Garden</title><content type='html'>I'm with the clan. We have just finished a session, and I have forgotten every thing, and have lost my things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask simon about the problem of trying to help people too much,  &lt;br /&gt;As some things can't be helped. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Simon says "its ok to say 'I want to help people'" Simon says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get told a story about about how Bill Clinton owns this huge bit of land somewhere, and how some people thought they would be helping the world by killing him, but the story suggests that, even if he were still the president it would not make the least difference, as its not really the leaders who make the decisions but the larger tyrants behind them. They would install someone stupider and keep doing exactly the same things. This is the real tyranny of our time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conor is now singing a song and ranting about the bullshit that comes out of american politics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah has given me a plant, its a healing medicinal plant, its one i found the day before, and he calls it "bits".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-797183713158290681?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/797183713158290681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/bill-clintons-garden.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/797183713158290681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/797183713158290681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/bill-clintons-garden.html' title='Bill Clintons Garden'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7546205354535767772</id><published>2011-08-20T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T17:17:38.341-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Horse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nelson mandela'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='magic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kev'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Festivals'/><title type='text'>The Vanishing Festival</title><content type='html'>I'm at a festival site, in a field somewhere in somerset, and all the crew members are getting the stage and the set ready for the big performance tomorrow night. Me and a whole bunch of us are preparing a special performance of a story of battles and freedom, fought and won. Kev the poet is playing Nelson Mandella, and the robe he has to wear is quite spectacular.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is more, is that his costume doubles up as Nelson Mandella's wife, who, in this play, is an african queen and spirit medium. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, jude and mike are working on kev's costume meticulously, as we know it will blow people away. It is looking quite fantabulous. He is wearing an enormous egyptian style head dress of blue and gold, which we spent ages trying to get to stick; kev had to stand very still for a long time against a wall, which we pinned and glued the head dress to, so that it could stick. The rest of his robe was gold and red; the colours of a king. All in all kev looked nothing short of an egyptian god; a force not to be messed with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attached to the back of the costume we had to work on the costume of the wife; during the performance, kev would transform miraculously into Nelson's wife, so the costume had to be embedded into the main costume. Her costume was silver and blue, and was like a water goddess from atlantis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spend a long time over the costumes, as its hard to get them right; so much seems to go wrong, bits falling off and not sticking. Yet finally we seem to have done a good job. Me, jude and mike are all stood in front of Kev, admiring the work we have put in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James and Radick have been working on the music, and have got it together, so we decide to do a little dress rehearsal, as the main performance is tomorrow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the rehearsal kev begins to embody the spirit of the parts he is playing. All of a sudden, he is no longer acting, but IS the parts he is playing.. As the music continues, the costume he's wearing becomes two characters, Nelson, AND his wife. She separates off and becomes her own automated self, while nelson continues to give speeches, and lessons. The characters have come magically alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scares us a bit, as we didn't realise the power of what we were making. Will we ever get kev back? We hope so, but right now he is off in a merged state, not himself but two other characters simultaneously. He seems quite gone, lost, in a trance state, its almost worrying. Anyway, now the music dies down, and everything is back to normal, and people leave the stage in an ordered state, instruments, costumes, and tools of the play all in position, ready for the big performance tomorrow, starting in the morning and carrying on into the night. The dress rehearsal is over, and people are wrapped up in there sleeping bags dropping off to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake the next morning, and immediately something feels wrong. In fact everything feels wrong. Its too quiet. Where has everyone gone? &lt;br /&gt;I get up and go to the theater tent. No one is there, and what is more is that nothing is there. Everything has disappeared. There are no instruments, no costumes, no stage; just an empty tent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go outside and look about the field. All the tents have disappeared, other than this performance tent. There is simply nothing around other than the old shepherds hut, which had always been here before the activities of the festival began. &lt;br /&gt;I go inside the shepherds hut to see what might be in there. I find mike, getting up out of bed. I tell him that something has happened over night. He gets up and I let him discover the situation for himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes he comes back to the shepherds hut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My keyboard, all my music equipment, everything, gone." He continues, " I need to stop this happening in my life; every time I find myself in a situation of abundance and plenty, I should settle, and not ask for anythinf more. This is a recurring theme in my life, it has happened a number of times before. Just when I think I'm sorted, the fairies and spirits come and take it all away." &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Jude now walks into the shepherds hut. She is amazed at what has happened. She empathizes with mike as she is aware of how much he has lost, she has lost a lot less in comparison. Much of the music equipment was mikes that he had bought through hard earned cash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jude talks to mike about what he means about the fairies and spirits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its as if I'm inviting it in on some level", mike continues, "its like they know that this is just another lesson to learn; that one day, when we die, we have to let go of everything, so why not learn it now, today in this moment?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jesus was a bit like that", jude comments, "and you were playing the Jesus role, so in a sense, you are inviting it in. Jesus has that heroic quality to him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Indeed, I just wish I could control a bit more when I want that quality to be invoked and when I don't. Right now I wish I had my stuff, but I guess on some level its all for the best. Well, at least we are still alive!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in awe of how he is coming to terms with such a big loss. I think that maybe this is all a dream, or a magic spell we are under, so I tell him and jude that I think this may be the case, and say that I will look around for signs of fairy magic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander out of the shepherds hut, and look around. The field is empty, but I notice a little spray can in the middle of the field, so I go to pick it up. Just an old graffiti spray I think, but then I notice the words "SPRAY THE STONES" on it, so I take the can and spray a bit of leftover paint on each of the stones dotted around at the edge of the field. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grey Horse now appears, walking through the gate of the field. "Horse, help us" I ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grey Horse tells us to travel, so we hook the horse up to the old shepherds hut, and travel along the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road winds and turns along country lanes, and we feel we will soon catch up with the fairies who took our stuff. After a little while, the road comes to a dead end, and leads into a field full of bulls. The path goes through the field, and out of the other corner. We must travel through, there is no other way round. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We begin moving cautiously towards the bulls, as they are blocking the path, and they get angry, and start walking towards us, as if to charge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horse gets scared, and I try to reassure her, and tell her it will be ok. Whatever happens, we must not run through fear, confidence is the key with bulls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bulls see we are not afraid, and so they themselves are stopped in there tracks, and make passage for us to travel through. We feel we are safely through the herd, but as we think this, one of the bulls makes charge at us as we are heading away from them, scaring Horse. She starts to gallop in fear towards the gate at the other end of the field, and now all the bulls are chasing us, moving as one organism. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We race in panic to get to the gate. The leading bull has now turned into a grizzly bear, and has huge fangs, and demon eyes, and is chasing at an alarming speed. We know that we can't escape. I tell jude and mike to keep Horse going, while I try to make a distraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jump off the shepherds hut to the edge of the field where I can get a large stick from a close by tree. I find one, and shout to grizzly bear to come after me. This distracts him, and now he's coming after me. I attack him on the nose with the stick, hitting him as hard as I can. It slows him, but its barely a scratch. however, I see that this has caused just enough time to get us to the edge of the field, and I now run with all my life to catch them up. Its a lost cause, however, as they are moving much too fast for me. &lt;br /&gt;Ahead of me, the shepherds hut wheels break, and Horse comes loose, and, now freed, she gallops off at a great speed into the distance. Mike and jude get out of the hut and start running into the woods close by. I see them and follow. The bear and bulls will struggle to follow us into here. I catch them up, and we stop for an instant to get our breath back. Now we really have nothing, and the bear is closing in. We must act fast or we will be caught. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask the spirits to help us, and in answer to this call, White Wolf and Brown Dog run up to meet us. Mike jumps on the back of Wolf, and jude on the back of Dog, and we travel on them faster than ever before. For some reason, I am able to keep up with them, I know not how.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We travel through woods and fields all the way to the sea, at st Ives. My brother Simon is by the harbour, listening to the song imagine by john lennon. Its good to be back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7546205354535767772?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7546205354535767772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/vanishing-festival.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7546205354535767772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7546205354535767772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/vanishing-festival.html' title='The Vanishing Festival'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4300977052945079875</id><published>2011-08-11T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T01:39:23.933-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='herbalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Overy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jobs'/><title type='text'>The Magick of Dreaming</title><content type='html'>Bendle the Herbalist has sent me an email saying he has found me a job, I glance over it, and think it says the job is in Oxford,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he sends me a note saying that he has found me a job, and I notice that its not in oxford but in Overy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its for 20£ an hour, and it work with medicines and plants, working alongside herbalists teaching how to find them in the wild and dry them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did some research as to weather the place Overy exists - it does - see here - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="425" height="350" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" src="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?msa=0&amp;amp;msid=211498691180806611733.000499cc3e4fb56b1d331&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;ll=53.67714,-1.077237&amp;amp;spn=5.018062,2.959146&amp;amp;t=h&amp;amp;iwloc=0004aa36e9b46c1cce5f5&amp;amp;output=embed"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;small&gt;View &lt;a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?msa=0&amp;amp;msid=211498691180806611733.000499cc3e4fb56b1d331&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;ll=53.67714,-1.077237&amp;amp;spn=5.018062,2.959146&amp;amp;t=h&amp;amp;iwloc=0004aa36e9b46c1cce5f5&amp;amp;source=embed" style="color:#0000FF;text-align:left"&gt;dream map&lt;/a&gt; in a larger map&lt;/small&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more amazing, = my Auntie Joe came this morning to say that she has some friends called Julie and John, who live in Overy, and that they have a big house with a big garden and are very rich! My auntie knew them from when she was living in brussels. i am going to go and visit them, as, "coincidentally", my parents said they would drop me off at oxford train station in just over a week. Magick! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_&lt;br /&gt;Continuation of the story - not a dream (i hope!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I went to Overy, cycling from oxford. When i got there, I found John and Julies house, and i chatted to John about the dream, explaining why i had come to visit. He probably thought i was mad! He told me he knew nothing of herbalism in the area, but did tell me about the old farm, which had been around for as long as the abbey - &lt;a href="http://www.dorchester-abbey.org.uk/"&gt;dorchester on thames abbey&lt;/a&gt;, which is right next door practically to Overy. This was a pilgrimage site i find out! I asked every one living in overy (all 6 houses) if anyone knew anything about herbalism, but it turned out to be a dead end. There was a flood plain behind the houses that i walked around, it was a wild life conservation area, and i found some interesting wild plants, but no herbalists, and no money! The last person told me this info - : habitational name from a place named with the Old English phrase ofer ie ‘over, across the river’, as for example Overy in Oxfordshire. In some cases the name may be topographic, with the same meaning, or with Old English eg ‘dry ground in a marsh’, ‘well-watered land’ as the second element.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, A bit of the puzzle was found. a week later, i head off to a festival on a spontaneous whim, as my herbalist Robyn tells me she has free tickets for people doing herbs and such like. I go to do wild food walks. It was a beautiful setting, a dry spot by the lake. On one walk which lasted an hour, I made £19. Bendle was there. I tell him the story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4300977052945079875?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4300977052945079875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/majick-of-dreaming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4300977052945079875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4300977052945079875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/majick-of-dreaming.html' title='The Magick of Dreaming'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-6081244536275724402</id><published>2011-08-10T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T04:08:06.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tunes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='roast chicken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pubs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nigel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='james clegg'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='richard clare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Neuroglia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christopher mason'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Neuroglia</title><content type='html'>NOTE - - Neuroglia is greek for glue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In medicine Neuroglia&lt;br /&gt;Refers to the supporting tissues of the brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=== &lt;br /&gt;the dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christopher mason is playing me his latest tune on fruity loops. Its a dance electronic sounding tune, and I'm really quite impressed. He is pleased with it, and shows me the different tracks that make up the tune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Adam are heading to a pub in Broomhill in Sheffield. We need to pick up this hard drive that's been hidden under the table just at the entrance to the pub. When we get there, i find it in a plastic bag under a mans chair. He didn't realize it was there and gets a bit annoyed because he wished he had found it first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nigel appears in the pub, and me and Adam sit down with him at a little circular table in the middle of the pub. A football match is being played on the telly, and there are these three roasted chickens arranged in a triangle on a circular dish on &lt;br /&gt;the circular table in front of us. The whole thing looks horrible so I try not to look at it. I can't believe this is food, and I am beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam makes a joke out loud about the french, as a means to get&lt;br /&gt;on friendly terms with the other people in the pub. I don't get the&lt;br /&gt;joke so I ask him what the joke was all for. It turns out that Sheffield Wednesday are loosing a football match against the french football team.&lt;br /&gt;I burst out laughing, because now i realize why everyone is looking so serious in the pub, they are all Wednesday supporters, and then i realise that I better keep my mouth shut, because some people in the pub could likely get very offended, and i could get beaten up or something..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my way to visit James clegg. He has moved house, he's now living in a shared terraced house, which has been joined with a few other terraced houses by knocking through the walls Adjoined to the terraced houses is a huge meditation hall, and&lt;br /&gt;suddenly I am reminded that I have been here before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so exciting to see james again. He is looking well.&lt;br /&gt;"What an amazing hall this is" I exclaim,&lt;br /&gt;He grins, and nods,.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember how I know it, my parents used to use the space for church&lt;br /&gt;gatherings of some sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a group of friends sat round a table, and richard clare is&lt;br /&gt;giving us some gardening wisdom, and tip toeing around, with the lightest step, in a devil like dance fashion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard says, "support is the vehicle for neurolagia" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask a friend to note it down, as i know this to be an important bit of information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam and me are now eating breakfast together. We are eating a boring porridge or something similar. A Chef walks in and has a huge fish on a silver plate. He asks us if we would like to try some fish for breakfast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems a bit of a weird thing to have for breakfast, but Adam says yes, and I am keen to try a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On trying the fish, i find it has no flavour; a sure sign of farmed fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conor is here and he asks, 'damaging to environment, on scale of one to ten, ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chef holding the huge fish says, " well to be honest its probably about 12. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-6081244536275724402?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6081244536275724402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/christopher-mason-is-playing-me-his.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6081244536275724402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6081244536275724402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/christopher-mason-is-playing-me-his.html' title='Neuroglia'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5026131973167799280</id><published>2011-08-06T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T06:59:00.472-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brighton'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='train travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deserts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sightseeing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='allotments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journeys'/><title type='text'>A Holiday in Brighton</title><content type='html'>I'm meeting Tim out on the allotments. It is a sad sight. All the allotment are becoming a desert. Everything is windswept and barren. There are no hedges, no plants, just dry red bare earth with a few tufty bits of grass. There are no people. All the allotments are lifeless. Tim is working there in the baking heat. Things look dead. Everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is an air of hopelessness, like 'why bother?' I see the squash plants dry and shrivelled up. It is very sad. Tim sees my sadness, and says, "let's go on a journey".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We travel by bike, and then car, Tim is driving really fast. We are by the coast in no time. It is a scary, thrilling ride... I have a feeling  we are going to drive into the water, my heart is in my mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels a familiar journey somehow. I recognise the road.&lt;br /&gt;And we drive into brighton, and I have I feeling I know where we are going, but the road just goes round in a big loop.. It doesn't arrive anywhere... Up and round, and curving down tightly, now backwards, parallel to where we're have just come...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we get on a train. We are in Brighton, our destination. We can see the sea and the weather is fine. We are both happy. The train drives through the centre of the town, and it is like a tourist trip. I see the pavilion, and churches, the pier, and then amazing mosques. I see amazing lit up palaces and bright lights and amazing structural architecture. I jokingly say "I want one of those in my back garden, and one of those, and those.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pointing to all the grand buildings. Some people are on the train who are young, very rich and very stuck up. They are the prince and princess of some sultan in the far east. They are talking like commoners, saying "well, I visited my palace in Bengal, and got a new wing built on it, and wanted a new hall built on my palace in Malaysia, so spent a few hundred million on that, but they did it bad, so I don't go there anymore.. " It was ridiculous hearing them talk... They obviously had far to much money to know what to do with it. I was very surprised to see them in this train in brighton...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train drives right through one of there palaces, and it is really dangerous, as its in a big hall, and people are jumping across the track just in front of the train. We stop at the last second, just as someone arrives to get on the train.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5026131973167799280?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5026131973167799280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/woke-up-148-am-had-dream-was-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5026131973167799280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5026131973167799280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/woke-up-148-am-had-dream-was-on.html' title='A Holiday in Brighton'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3377295166477365469</id><published>2011-08-06T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T03:23:58.532-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party at adams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='escape'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drug searches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school bus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='police'/><title type='text'>Next Generation Rebels</title><content type='html'>I have to get out of this place; to run away,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escape the reality of this life.&lt;br /&gt;I follow a spontaneous movement to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a plan, I will formulate one as I go. I need to make quick changes, or ill get stuck, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at the train station, traveling through the ticket machines. I decide to head to france.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After buying a ticket, I realize I don't have any money. I also don't have a passport, but this doesn't cross my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have difficulty with ticket places. I haven't thought about the other end, where I will stay, where I will sleep. I worry that I will get cold, and ill, because I will be forced to sleep outside. I think I am crazy, doing this, but I know I really can't stay hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on the train now. I being searched for by the security. I have cheated the system somehow, and they want to arrest me. I have to make some quick changes at a station ahead, and once I am on the train to france, they won't be able to follow me. I get off the train when it stops, out onto the platform. I'm waiting with a bunch of other people, in anticipation for the next train, eyes alert for signs of security guards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While buying a ticket with the little money I do have I find money in machine, in the change area. It is lots! Lots more than I imagine one might find left in a machine. Notes and a load of gold coins. Some of the gold coins are broken. I count it: about 120 pounds or so! What a stroke of luck! This should see me through. I can pay for a bed and breakfast with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next train pulls in. I get on, everything is much smoother than I imagine it will be. The train becomes a mono rail, and then an overhead wire carriage that leads us over the sea. I feel safer now... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam is having party. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are lots of people, and I tell them the story of the journey: finding money in the machine, and show them the money, what's left of what I didn't spend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family is there, mum and dad, brothers and sister. We are eating a feast together. Lots of family friends are around. We are chatting and telling stories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt; I am on the school bus from notre dame, sat on the top of the bus looking out at the view of the city as we drive along the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am seeing the younger generation rebels, sorting out weed on bus. I see there spirit, and am hopeful, as they are an intelligent and friendly bunch, similar to me and my friends when we were their age. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is cautious of the bus inspector.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is inspecting every ones behavior, looking for the tell tale signs of drug culture. He has been employed to keep his eye open for suspicious behavior. &lt;br /&gt;I have to hide my pouch of weed and tobacco from him when he comes round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tells us all that he doesn't really like this as his job, but he is doing it only because there is no other option for him. He knows that he will be made redundant soon. &lt;br /&gt;Tells us of the current job situation, how nothing is certain nowadays. We feel sorry for him, and realize that he is really on our side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we are driving along we see a building on fire down in town. It is a flat, (towerblock)&lt;br /&gt;Down near ecclesalle rd where it meets the ring road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The inspector tell us that it is a business building, (not residential) and that it was surely going to happen soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can see the flames coming out of the roof from miles off. I wonder weather the fire services will be able to rescue any of the building or weather it will be completely burnt to the ground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3377295166477365469?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3377295166477365469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/next-generation-rebels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3377295166477365469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3377295166477365469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/next-generation-rebels.html' title='Next Generation Rebels'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7861090435038476638</id><published>2011-08-06T03:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T03:20:58.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Salvadories house&lt;br /&gt;Eating cerial&lt;br /&gt;Joe sal a picture appears with his mum n dad on and starts talking to him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giant pumkins outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lift off the ground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a burial mound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tunnels in the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A church gathering&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deeper level of exchange happening because of a shared focus - religion, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet catherine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet ruth - new roots &lt;br /&gt;She has grown stronger, still appreciate our friendship&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At festival&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike stanton&lt;br /&gt;N kev. Going to play on main stage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technical difficulties&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7861090435038476638?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7861090435038476638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/salvadories-house-eating-cerial-joe-sal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7861090435038476638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7861090435038476638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/salvadories-house-eating-cerial-joe-sal.html' title=''/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8040288097086052361</id><published>2011-08-06T03:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-06T03:08:43.710-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='river picnics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abundance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pictures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anne marie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='falling rocks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journeys'/><title type='text'>Avalanche</title><content type='html'>Avalanche&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am out on a walk with my family. We are near wellow. We pass an old quarry, which has become abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at the stone lying around, checking to see if there are any bits to pick up, and ask dad if they are worth keeping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quarry sides get very steep, and now its become a hillside. &lt;br /&gt;I notice one or two boulders are a bit loose. I go over to them, to look at them, and just by touching one of them it comes loose, and begins to roll down the hill, gathering momentum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The force and vibration it causes on the earth makes more boulders start to role, and soon there are a dozen or more large boulders moving with real speed down the hill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people out on walks, and picnics, and I am worried that they could be injured, or worse, killed by these boulders, that were sparked by me. My dad says it is likely that someone will get hurt, and the consequences are just too big! I yell down the hill telling people to watch out, but the low rumbling noise is plenty a warning to those below, drowning out my calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see people running in all directions to escape the falling boulders, and I hear shouts and screams. I say a prayer to god to look after everyone, and that no-one get hurt. There is nothing more I can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad knows this, and so he is not angry with me, because in a way it was just an accident waiting to happen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wander on, and the walk becomes an adventure playground. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going to the highcliffe pub, its an important gathering of sheffield friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all got drinks, and John is here. He looks very sad and mournful, and I soon realize the reason why. One of my friends sitting next to me tells me that his mother had committed suicide only a week or so ago. He is still very much in grieving, trying to come to terms with the tragic event. Apparently she was terribly stressed by so many things. John has been blaming part of her actions on himself, which naturally is causing him a huge amount of regret. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and my friends do our best to support him, but we can see that it will be a while before he becomes his usual self again, if at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets to closing time, and we are all asked to leave. I find I have left loads of my stuff lying around, and it takes me a while to gather it all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm out on the street again, and back in the playground. &lt;br /&gt;Dad and joe and simon are chasing me round an assault course, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You just need to find out what you're really meant to be doing", dad says, "then everything will be fine"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You need to set up an abundance project in Bulgaria. I will give you my prayers and blessings to ensure that it will work" he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then watch him speak out his prayers and his blessings while holding out his hand in a position that calls to the spirits and to spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a sense of confidence and certainty rise up in me. &lt;br /&gt;Now I see jude, she is painting a picture, in the style of Pissaro, of people sitting along a river bank, its the river avon, and we are sitting together. Its a beautiful sunny day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jude is unhappy with her picture. At first she gets angry, then she gets sad. I suggest going for a swim in the river, so we do, and we find these motor powered surf boards. I suggest that we head down stream on an adventure until we find the sea. Jude and another friend who has joined us are up for it. We motor surf down until the motors break, and now we have found a barge and we are on the canal. We reach a lock, and we notice that they have all become automatic, and solar powered, so we don't need to do anything, we just wait. The gates are opening, and we are heading through. But suddenly there is a technical failure, and we think the barge is going to get flooded by a falling wall of water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;I am now with anne marie. We are up a tower block, and looking out of the windows over sheffield. The windows are tainted blue coloured, and the view matched a view in a picture that she had painted, or it might have been a photograph that she had taken. It was a very similar image. She was having difficulty with something, I think it was that the view was not right somehow, but the colour was right..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8040288097086052361?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8040288097086052361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/avalanche.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8040288097086052361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8040288097086052361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/08/avalanche.html' title='Avalanche'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-9014282438587787620</id><published>2011-07-28T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T13:00:52.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>note style dream</title><content type='html'>Cousins - at mark and viv's house, insulation on the walls. - it is really chunky and sticks out from the walls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sat with the girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a school-&lt;br /&gt;I have a job to put stickers on everyone there, at an assembly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling across the moors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet some people sat by a rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet maria, some art project got a lot of money to plant a food garden on the moors, they were growing sweet corn, and beans, and all the usual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am impressed with the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wandering down ally-&lt;br /&gt;I find my way back to the famous memorials shop in sheffield that is down by the steel works, near abbey dale rd, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is there with me. We look at some tomb stones, and also notice that the place is being used as a blacksmiths workshop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-9014282438587787620?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/9014282438587787620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/note-style-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/9014282438587787620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/9014282438587787620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/note-style-dream.html' title='note style dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3906979519929819959</id><published>2011-07-27T07:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T07:28:47.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jedi warriors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light sabers'/><title type='text'>jedi warriors</title><content type='html'>I'm with mum dad and James in car. We have just got back from being out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are locked out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joseph is in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask him wot he has seen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he has seen mini light sabers everywhere, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find a few , they are really amazing, they light up and you can flick them on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon is playing with them, he has seen lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find so dildos, they look like such cheep plastic imitations I can only imagine how unsatisfactory they would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some money in my pocket that I didn't know I had&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am walking through a rough area of town, and I discover the money just at the wrong time, when some people are walking past, they see the money and I get the feeling that they want to rob it off me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am with granny and judith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are watching revenge of the syth &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granny says 'its not a very good picture'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;' Its meant to be like that, I say, half cartoon like' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dark side warriors are all lined up in military formation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone has extended into a much bigger thing. I don't know if I like it, I am trying to delete the extra applications..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3906979519929819959?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3906979519929819959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/jedi-warriors.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3906979519929819959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3906979519929819959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/jedi-warriors.html' title='jedi warriors'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-64167193328724502</id><published>2011-07-27T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T07:23:02.099-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adriano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rich.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='turners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ponds'/><title type='text'>allotment pond</title><content type='html'>I'm at turners, &lt;br /&gt;Jessica, where are we going to sleep?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am planning on sleeping in one room, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A strange creature crawls in through the window, I am sick of seeing it again, so I grab it by the neck and am going to chuck it out of the window, but someone stops me, and we let it out carefully. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet adriano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We buy tools, we think about nicking stuff, break in , get caught, only just after 530, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy loppers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adrianos Knife needs mending&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stanley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wander up hill, he says he thought about spending money on a tea party, so we lucky, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard is up on the allotment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been working up there all day long,&lt;br /&gt;I am surprised to see him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad has dropped off various things from our house, the old roman mosaic, plus some blocks of limestone, and limestone dust, &lt;br /&gt;I can see from the look in his eyes, &lt;br /&gt;he is annoyed with me &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hugs one of my friends, adriano, and sara, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cut him a bit of leek to try that is in my hand but drop it and so cut him another one, but he is annoyed because it still has a bit of soil on it. He says its ok this time, because he can handle this, but for others it would be no good for them. &lt;br /&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Some of us have to work all day" he says to me with contempt.&lt;br /&gt;It is evident that this is what he has be doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is digging a square pond, which is lined with bricks and cement. I think we will put a liner into it when finished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the bits of materials from my parents old place are being included up here, the mosaic for paths the limestone for paths and walls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard I feel, is going to take over up there, he wants the power of that place, as he has been kicked off his other allotments, for being too aggressive and disturbing other allotmenteers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fred and oli are here, and they have been roped in by rich to help dig the pond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit to myself that the pond is actually going to look really good when finished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worried that rich will claim this space as his own, and then people will only be able to come up here if they work with rich on his terms. I know what he is like only too well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-64167193328724502?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/64167193328724502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/allotment-pond.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/64167193328724502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/64167193328724502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/allotment-pond.html' title='allotment pond'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5475031217187070670</id><published>2011-07-27T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T07:18:35.634-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dad'/><title type='text'>just being</title><content type='html'>Jack is playing music with a tabla player&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is there and I am colouring in a big square patch in gold, on a piece of paper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its not really doing much" dad says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Some people find being more than doing" I say, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its true, sitar goes very well with tabla," he says, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music is fantastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5475031217187070670?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5475031217187070670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-being.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5475031217187070670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5475031217187070670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/just-being.html' title='just being'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-117903599778392750</id><published>2011-07-27T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T07:16:42.803-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journeying'/><title type='text'>gaga</title><content type='html'>Meet gaga, &lt;br /&gt;Conor introduces me to him, &lt;br /&gt;He is very frail and wobbly. He has a constant big grin on his face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids journeying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam and liz's.  A fire burns, I have to get out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids journeying&lt;br /&gt;In school, I see two kids outside discussing journeys. A teacher is teaching a class of kids to journey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating chocolate squares from a box&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heeley city farm, its become abandoned, ma and friends want to help out with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-117903599778392750?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/117903599778392750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/gaga.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/117903599778392750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/117903599778392750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/gaga.html' title='gaga'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7283645587767650222</id><published>2011-07-21T04:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T04:12:18.895-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being chased'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild man'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='danger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='escape'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='disguises'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='revolutionaries'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='police'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='instruments'/><title type='text'>the Valley Of The Moon</title><content type='html'>In bingham park - I meet some wild man there at 2 in morning with a friend. He is selling special magical instruments made out of wood, I buy a half finished one because I want to finish it myself, but he won't accept cash, so I give him some homemade chutney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have been having fires in the wood, and there is quite a lot of mess. People are wanting to move in, to live in the wood. I come across a swarm of hover flies, and they cover me entirely, and I am really worried but it turns out fine as they cannot sting. There are thousands of insects and animals in the wood, and people have been leaving litter which makes all the creatures sad, as its there home. I feel like someone between the worlds, half of the human world, and half of the wooded world....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now over in sharrow somewhere, &lt;br /&gt;and I am staying in a house full of beautiful women. They are mostly foreign exchange students, they introduce me to a frenchman who is a revolutionary and has been fighting the authorities, he is in hiding because the authorities want him behind lock and bar.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They want me to stay with them and enjoy the life of pleasure that they offer but I can't, despite the fact that I do want to stay. I have a mission to complete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now in a built up environment, and there are high buildings surrounding me. &lt;br /&gt;I am with the french guy and we are being chased by the police. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must protect this french guy, since he is a special revolutionary, and will help to change the world into a peaceful place. He has been causing unrest in the people by raising awareness, and they are claiming back what was once their own. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We are on our bikes, and we are cycling through a residential area. The police have lost our scent now, but I can see, up in the road ahead, a road block by a roundabout. There is no way out.  We can't turn around as that would look obvious, so we cycle up on the pavement, and hope that they don't notice us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They try to stop us, and so, without a seconds hesitation, we cycle off into the entrance of the park at the roundabout, where the cars can't follow. They know that we are the ones they have been looking for, and are hot on our trail now. If we go back onto the road, is there any hope of escape? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police have blocked all the entrances of the park with cars, and patrols. We are trapped, it seems. I take us into the restaurant cafe in the park as it may well be a good hiding place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am acting casual, buying a drink, the frenchman is getting us a disguise, and we put on our disguise in the toilets. Unfortunately, this causes a bit of suspicion with some of the customers, especially since now, the police have undercover spies in the cafe who are on the lookout for anything suspicious. I can see intuitively who is against us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We must leave, the police are moving in on us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police are everywhere, they are too quick for us. This is our last chance. We walk out of the restaurant onto the road, with our disguise on before the news gets to the other police. Just as we pass another road block, without getting stopped, the word gets out about our disguise, and I can see that they are turning around and coming after us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back on our bikes now, it is dusk and the light is dimming. A yellow moon is rising above a little valley to our left creeping up the hill, and there is a sign post at the entrance to a dirt track saying, Valley of the Moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I know this to be our only chance... we must cycle through the Valley of the Moon, with all its dark paths, and hidden bogs, and winding mazes... The moon will be our guide.  Perhaps they will be unable to track us in here...   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moon protect us, I pray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7283645587767650222?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7283645587767650222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/valley-of-moon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7283645587767650222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7283645587767650222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/valley-of-moon.html' title='the Valley Of The Moon'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-28327526351769133</id><published>2011-07-17T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-17T05:52:29.552-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fighting to the death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='armies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='warriors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seeking for a home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='medieval field systems'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a battle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaders'/><title type='text'>The Fate Of the Tribes</title><content type='html'>I am in sheffield with my family, and we are walking through an old area of sheffield, down by a river and some old industrial buildings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We look up onto the hill side, and I see, to the right side of the sunny hillside, an old medieval field system of old walls, and to the left, larger fields stretching out to the moors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say to my family, I must wander over to those hills, I might find a home in those hills, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am genuinely interested in seeing what they are like, and if there might be a spring nearby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up on the hill, now, and we are re-enacting a historical battle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two armies are gathered; I'm being lead by Snowfalcon, he is dressed in black, and is leading us into a dance... We are putting down our weapons and joining him in this dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other army is being lead by Coyote, and he is leading them in the ways of martial arts and nature survival...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all lead into a circle, on the edge of the hillside, where, in the center of the circle, the youngest of the warriors must dual, to an unknown end, to decide the fate of each army. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watch as the Son of Coyote, and one of our warriors steps into the circle. Their knives are in there hands, ready to fight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our warrior throws his knife at Coyote's son, and coyote's son jumps out of the way,  the knife falling to the floor. Coyote's son picks it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father speaks up saying&lt;br /&gt;'Now we have the upper hand'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our warrior is undaunted by this advantage of his opponent. He knows he has the skills of movement. He runs at coyote's son and kicks one of the knives out of his hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stand, watching, with baited breath, the fates of the tribes unfold...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-28327526351769133?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/28327526351769133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/fate-of-tribes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/28327526351769133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/28327526351769133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/fate-of-tribes.html' title='The Fate Of the Tribes'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7972531162913195958</id><published>2011-07-16T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T01:48:53.964-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='curses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no clothes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new sheds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being pulled home by a wolf'/><title type='text'>new sheds and curses...</title><content type='html'>I am at Richards place, up on the allotments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanessa is giving talk to him, me and conor about structures, &lt;br /&gt;"Look, this is the structure of a hierarchy, and this is a structure of a non-hierarchy" she points to two different diagrams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conor is not convinced by what she is saying. To him, they both look the same diagram. He questions Vanessa's logic, and it stumps Vanessa and leaves he on the back foot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;I am in sheffield in an urban back yard, and I am rebuilding a shed. It had been taken down and now needed rebuilding just round the corner. Richard is guiding the rebuild, he says that it needs to be here, right in the middle of the yard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conor is saying to Richard that he feels that his toothache is a curse that someone put on him. I say to him that some people think that curses are not real, and that they are only effective as placebo.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Richard says, "well, never mind if its not real, what about all the chaos that it brings?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am journeying home. I have no clothes, and I bump into friend claire who is same, naked like me. It's snowing, and we make a sledge, which is getting pulled by a wolf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a place where people are doing martial arts or something...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7972531162913195958?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7972531162913195958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-sheds-and-curses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7972531162913195958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7972531162913195958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-sheds-and-curses.html' title='new sheds and curses...'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5654079267222374617</id><published>2011-07-16T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T01:36:31.121-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leap of faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crossing waters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leaks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ponds'/><title type='text'>crossing the waters</title><content type='html'>I am visiting the garden of one of my old school teachers. He is showing me round his garden, and about how he designed it. He has asked me to come and look as it will help him make some important decisions on how to sort out the water issue; he built a pond awhile back and it has been leaking  recently and has been flooding his little garden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the back of his garden is a little island of land, about the size of a large shed, surrounded by water. My friends are here now, and the waters are rising. Soon one won't be able to get to the island without getting ones feet wet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make a leap of faith to get onto it, and the earth on which my feet land starts to crumble away into the water behind me, but I just manage to get on safely. I look back to my friends on the other side. It will b too late now for me to get back or for them to get across...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am with my friends in bristol. Mikey needs some help shifting a bed out of his room. James and everyone else are too busy playing music to help him, so I go and help. I find a broken spade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5654079267222374617?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5654079267222374617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/crossing-waters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5654079267222374617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5654079267222374617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/crossing-waters.html' title='crossing the waters'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-6116306458561690452</id><published>2011-07-16T01:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T01:33:53.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the magical estuary</title><content type='html'>Me, dad and jude are watching a famous guy on ted talks, speak about this journey he went on, which was very dangerous. It involved going on a giant rolercoaster ride up to the north pole. On the way back it took him to glasgow, the place where he would find his home to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; He then went onto finding a famous causeway, in Glasgow, where the tide sinks down enough across one of the river estuaries during low tide to get all the way across the sands, to this special place where you find lots of things that have floated down the river and got trapped in the mud and sands there. Near to this natural gathering point he found a magical land which became his home for the rest of his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am walking through a parade in the streets of Glasgow, and I meet some of my brother Joe's old friends, two girls, they come with me, as we are going to a talk by my Brother about how he came to buy this special shop and turn it into an art space. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother Joe is now telling a crowd of us about this new shop.  The location of this shop was just the other side of the tidal causeway, a place that overlooked the estuary. He is now telling a group of us how he came to buy it. &lt;br /&gt;He told us how he spoke to the landlord if he could buy it off him, and the landlord said yes. There was a lot of work that needed doing to the building, and one of these things was that there was a tree growing up close to the building which needed digging out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After digging out the tree, he went to gather other drift stuff from boTtom of river, the gathering point. He found some ornaments, 2 big porcelain turtles, and other things as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet fred, and we go on journey to find the bottom of this river, the magical estuary which deposits all sorts of useful things in it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to walk out along a ridge into the estuary as far as we can go, and then we begin to wade through the mud and sands. We find a high point in the muds and sands, which takes us all the way to the bottom of the magical estuary. There fred finds a stereo player which has a tape of old folk music, which still plays and works. We listen to it while we seek around for more interesting things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-6116306458561690452?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6116306458561690452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/magical-estuary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6116306458561690452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6116306458561690452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/magical-estuary.html' title='the magical estuary'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5053361152286165151</id><published>2011-07-07T00:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T00:52:28.710-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blue mushrooms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damage to house.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giant log games'/><title type='text'>damage to the Maltings, and Mushrooms.</title><content type='html'>Talking to jill T about the book The. Triumph of the Moon, she doesn't like the look of it, as she thinks its a pagan book, and is worried by it,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad has been reading it and says its quite interesting, has read a page or two about a church in it, and recommends it. Jill is now curious, so asks dad to show her the page, and dad opens the book to the page but finds he has got pasta on the page he was reading, so he has to brush it off before he can show it to her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and james are in wellow in the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in the habit of playing a game of rolling logs down the hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game consists of 2 giant logs, about 6 or 7 meters in length, and about a meter and a half in diameter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rolling logs this size down a hill, would, as anyone could imagine, be extremely dangerous. Well, we don't roll them far. One of the logs we keep in a fixed position half way down the hill and then when we role the other one, it crashes into this one and stops.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; One day james has a few friends come round to visit. 2 ladies and boy. We tell them about the game. They get one of the logs rolling with a big push, and it rolls down towards the other log. &lt;br /&gt;This time it hits the stable log and for some reason it bounces over the log and continues rolling down the hill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no! Its heading for the house!! There is nothing we can do, so we just hope and pray everything will be ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The log bounces up just before hitting the house and crashes into house, amazingly not breaking the windows or the wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We run into the house to check if everything is ok. Dad asked what happened. He is upstairs. "Your always causing more mess" he says. "Look at these floor boards, they are all out of line" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shows us the floor boards on the landing. A few of them have been completely blown out of place by the shock of the log. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad gets to work on mending the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am with a large group of friends up the porter valley. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are doing some environmental redevelopment work in the woods and fields. Mr Boardman, the PE teacher has been leading us. We are now having to put gravel over a big load of plastic, under which there is sand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You could have at least watered the sand before hand" he says. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now out with Bendle foraging for Mushrooms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its nearly magic mushroom season, I think to myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been very damp, and its good timing. I think I am with Rich from Coed too. Bendle finds these ones that are a deep purpley blue colour, with gnome like hats on the top. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one he finds is an old one, it is big and he wants to show us the spores. He picks it up and shows us underneath.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5053361152286165151?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5053361152286165151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/damage-to-maltings-and-mushrooms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5053361152286165151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5053361152286165151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/damage-to-maltings-and-mushrooms.html' title='damage to the Maltings, and Mushrooms.'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5593508070302238580</id><published>2011-07-05T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T08:40:07.012-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='songs.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='masks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='allotments'/><title type='text'>dreams in draft note form</title><content type='html'>On a ship, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boy who sings and says the tragedy of the world - what! He is tellling people about the bad things that have happened, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One weird bit was of a story of a man who was thin and had a love who was beautiful, but the got separated,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He in hospital for year, puts on lots of weight, it makes her recover, she ill, but then he changes,looses his mind, she does also loose her beauty. She comes back to him, he is glad but has found another love, who doesn't love him as much but has more beauty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jumps off, to demonstrate, - hero achetype,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to follow, my brother is here, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- a wearhouse, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now meet an amazing tracker, - wisdom elder, says about prediction, things happening&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go somewhere on insticnt&lt;br /&gt;Giles, bump into, he doesn't need allotment key, he gives to me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take to tim, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allotment, sheds, meet a girl, who is showing me a new way of blowing bubbles, with a sponge, creative imagination. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John biggins, meet, talking about control, needing control, worry about loosing control. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- nan coed- has a biggest mask on- like an elephant, all colourful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rawley is there, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Library&lt;br /&gt;Rules no music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah starts a song simple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone joins in, can't stop it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a school, we have a week to teach the kids what we know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow falcon is leading us, and we are getting into little groups and putting on plays and performances. We meet up for 3 meals in the day, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask the kids weather they want electronic or acoustic song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to perform earth song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of instruments to choose from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at braziers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having so much fun! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adriano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gisellie&lt;br /&gt;Was giant&lt;br /&gt;In big field we little U&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jameshealing devise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Braziers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Water walk way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elfin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5593508070302238580?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5593508070302238580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/dreams-in-draft-note-form.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5593508070302238580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5593508070302238580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/dreams-in-draft-note-form.html' title='dreams in draft note form'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5659158163967737624</id><published>2011-07-03T00:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T01:01:34.055-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='getting into trouble'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dancers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UFOs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='corruptions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assassins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='card tricks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music gatherings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='precious objects'/><title type='text'>a precious thing from the sky</title><content type='html'>I'm in the park just down from my parents house. There are lots of people out playing as its a sunny day and its the holidays. We are going to have a mini music gathering, so everyone is called together. We sit in a circle, and people are invited to play some music. I play my Mbira and T-, one of my teachers, hears it and says to people there, 'mbira is my main instrument too. ' And to me says 'Let me look at your mbira'. I give it to him to look at. It looks different now in his hands. He says 'this is a very magical mbira, tell them where it is from', &lt;br /&gt;'Zimbabwe' I tell everyone, and someone asks how much it cost, and I say 100 pounds. Some people laugh, and I don't really know why. is it because it seems expensive or cheap? I think to myself. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; now I have it back and I am playing it again... It has a magical effect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are on the top field, and its the wild heart gathering opening ceremony. We don't know what is going to happen. Everyone is gathered round in a circle.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into the centre of this large silent and still circle walks a singer. She is short and has wide hips, giving her a grounded look. &lt;br /&gt;She has a poise and confidence about her that grabs every ones attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She starts singing a quiet melody, which winds and twists and turns, and draws me in. Its as if she is making it up as she goes along, but for some reason, I know what is coming next in the melody and I get compelled to sing along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I join in singing with her, I know this is my role, to be spontaneous, and I know instinctively my line I must sing. She smiles at me, and we go into a musical trance, and more and more people join in with us in this spontaneous song, that seems so rehearsed.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Dancers join me and the singer in the centre of this wide circle. They are all girls,  and are dressed up in costume; flowing silky dresses of white and blue. They have a routine that they are following, a fast paced, flowing circle dance, that spirals in and out of its self. The dancers look at me, and I notice how beautiful they are. I suddenly feel like I've done the wrong thing joining this opening ceremony in such a spontaneous way, as I really don't know how to dance in synch with them, and I'm not wearing any special costume. I look to the singer lady for guidance but she is lost in the music, so I do what feels most right; I join the dancers moving in spirals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It is very hard keeping up with them as they are moving very fast, and I get behind, and muddled up; my feet cross at awkward points, and I feel like I must look the fool to the audience,- one guy not in costume trying to fit in with all these beautiful rehearsed girls in flowing costume. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls find it really funny, and some try to tell me what to do, 'put one foot here, follow this way round, now cross over, and under...' They know I am exposing my self, and do their best to help me not make a fool of myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet S. She has moved into a new house in netheredge, a house on stead rd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S is in the basement singing, and clearing out the old crap of the house. &lt;br /&gt;She has got into a lot of debt with people over money, and these people are after her to make her pay for her debt. She thinks she may find something valuable in the basement of the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her new flat mate doesn't like me, and gets into an argument with me. He has had mental difficulties, and has had a lot of difficulties with his relationships with different women.  Now he has a crush on someone who is really too young for him, but he doesn't care, he says, 'but aren't you attracted to her as well?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;I am in a school somewhere in sheffield.&lt;br /&gt;There is a corruption going on in this school, we are being made to wear uniform when we don't need to. I decide to find a way to get rid of this corruption, and Adriano gives me a pack of cards to use, to help expose this corruption, so that we can get rid of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't quite know how to use the cards, but it was something to do with dividing the pack in a particular way... But however I did it, it has now been done, and this corruption has been exposed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three or more people are now angry with me. They are class mates who, when finding out about the uniform corruption, decided not to wear their uniform, and con-sequentially have been put into detention by the teachers. They are blaming me, as they know I exposed it, and if they had not found out they would never have got tempted to push the 'fake' rules, and so get into detention. I see the difficulty I have got my self into, and realise I need to be more careful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back to the school. There are a number of class mates in detention or something, waiting to do there lines, and &lt;br /&gt;I see Nageeb through the window; he is one of the ones who got into trouble, and he looks at me with contempt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back to Adrianos house, thinking that he might be able to help me find a way to sort out the problems that I have sparked off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says I can't really get him involved. It's nothing to do with him he says. I leave his house, and as I'm leaving I notice he has left the pack of cards which I used, on the door step. I pick them up, and flick through the pack. I notice something I had not noticed before when I used them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are a magic pack&lt;br /&gt;Of cards, used to trick people. Some of the cards have no figures on them at all, some have figures on both sides, some are slightly smaller than others, and some are in different colours, and some have a secret coding system on the back so that you know what card you are going to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask the pack to show me a card that will have meaning for me now in this moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get the ace of diamonds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diamonds are tough, I think, formed inside the earth. This card is symbolic of the earth I think, and so I decide that I must think about the earth and my connection to the earth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment a piece of metal comes spinning through the air above me. It spins like a giant boomerang spinning in circles, making wide arc like patterns across the sky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember something someone told me about collecting and precious metals from the sky, - if your lucky you may find granitium - a special alien metal, which they use in there space crafts. Its the most valuable thing you will ever find, someone once told me. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know what this spinning object will be, but I follow it all the same, for I feel it's important for me to follow it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It spins down through the streets, this way and that. For ages and ages I chase it, thinking it will never fall to the ground. It leads me zig-zaging amongst the streets, like I'm on a wild goose chase. I think it must be important that no one sees me pick it up, as it could be the most valuable thing I ever find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now getting lower to the ground, and is now only about a foot off the ground. I am right on its heels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It clatters to the ground just at a junction to Abbeydale road. There are lots of people about, and I pick it up as quickly as possible, as I don't want them to see me pick it up. The object is a circular shape with three spiky wing bits coming off it, making it look a bit like a three spiked crown. &lt;br /&gt;The metal is strong and light in weight, and dark coloured. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I move even only a few yards, some assassins who have been tracking this special object fly out of the trees around, and point there guns at me and fire.. They have been tracking this object and its very important that they get it back up to the sky, as its a power object. I don't want to loose it, but I also don't want to loose my life, so I hurl it as hard as I can away from me. I don't know where it landed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5659158163967737624?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5659158163967737624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/precious-thing-from-sky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5659158163967737624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5659158163967737624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/07/precious-thing-from-sky.html' title='a precious thing from the sky'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1012230406446874196</id><published>2011-06-29T16:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T16:33:46.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in anticipation of autumn</title><content type='html'>I am with Kristina, and we have been making art work, which we are now showing to our friends. We are going to auction off our work, and see what we get for it. Kristina has done a painting in an impressionist style, and when she shows it to our friends they all love it. One of them really wants to by it, and when this picture goes up for auction he bids the highest, and pays about 600 pounds for it. Me and Kristina are surprised that it sold for so much, and Kristina is very pleased with herself.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mum phones her up and is also very pleased with her when she hears the news. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristina is happy, but she is wondering where her love is. She wants to find that special person who can love her. She is searching for that person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;Now I am with Elise and some friends. Elise has been taking photos, and using special effects on the photos to make them look weird. She had projected the photos up on a screen and it really surprised one of my friends, as the photos were strange, and magical. One of them was a picture of Elise herself, and the effect had blurred out all the face other than the eyes and mouth. It was like something from the cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now at an event. Its a seed swap and information swap, and general social for people who are interested in growing. I am there to give out seeds and talk to people about herbs and wild medicines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet Adriano and he asks me about meadow sweet. It is just flowering now,  and I tell him about putting the flowers in drinks. I say that meadowsweet is a cure all, 'makes you feel human again' plant, which has been used for so many different things, that the best thing would be to look on the internet for a detailed study. We have a computer with us, so that's what we do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robyn is there and all of a sudden we are in the woods looking for plants....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are back in the room with people now, I meet Diane, and chat to her about growing things and how the allotments are going. There is a table with lots of seeds on. I am just about to head off somewhere, but find a package of seeds of squash that I thought I had lost, but here it is. I am very happy.. I hope someone hadn't thought they were for giving away as it would be disappointing to find them gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1012230406446874196?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1012230406446874196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/in-anticipation-of-autumn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1012230406446874196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1012230406446874196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/in-anticipation-of-autumn.html' title='in anticipation of autumn'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2216462784154052155</id><published>2011-06-24T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T00:24:00.484-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='john coltraine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foxgloves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dead birds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oil spills'/><title type='text'>poisoning</title><content type='html'>The pagans have been trying to poison the christians. I can't remember what plants or methods they have been using, but it is quite an old tried and tested method, one which was used may back in history. Also, they are poisoning them, as it is a re-enactment of what happened, and this is not serious, its just so that we can experience the past. In the story, the christians figure out that they have been poisoned, so they try to get back the pagans, by poisoning them in return. I am playing a part as a christian, and I take, symbolically, foxglove to the door of the pagans house, break off a bit so it looks edible, and leave it just outside on a tree stump. I see one of them, and I tell them to put up a big poisonous sign above it, as I know we are just acting here, and it would be awful to make a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They put up a sign, and I feel relieved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now in a wearhouse in bristol, and I meet Joe. We have to get ourselves to meet james and jude, which we do, and together we travel across bristol, the colours of the evening in the sky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum is cooking and she has been given &lt;br /&gt;Dead wood pigeon and doesn't want to deal with it so she gives it to me, as I am happy to gut it and do necessary preparation on it. I am surprised at how big this pigeon is, and how bright the colours are on its back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet John Coltraine and he takes me to the sea side to show me something, another bit of history. He tells me to watch the ocean waves, and to tell him what I see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see some birds swimming on the ocean, and one of them has got oil around them. Its just a little oil, so I think nothing of it, but then I see in the waters that oil is coming in from somewhere, and its making all the birds sick. I see the ocean waters fill with black rainbow oil, and it sticks to everything, and damages it or kills it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2216462784154052155?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2216462784154052155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/poisoning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2216462784154052155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2216462784154052155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/poisoning.html' title='poisoning'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8826554509846352253</id><published>2011-06-19T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T01:48:56.584-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spontaneous sound'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild jamming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trance like states'/><title type='text'>crazy music iprovisations</title><content type='html'>Meet rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talks to me about his projects&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And mentions gs, I have to walk away,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But also have to pay attention to what he is saying to me as well, - I have to walk away from gs too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to have music event, me and conor are going to practice some songs for it,&lt;br /&gt;I call off, because I don't feel ready yet, &lt;br /&gt;But then realise I must play stuff with him, even if its only improvised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in a big upstairs hall in a building, me an conor. There are a few mics plugged in and some instruments lying around, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have done some music playing practices here before, but this time it happens a lot more spontaneous. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start singing really high notes, conor joins in, harmonising with them,  and i go into a trance, and I begin to draw huge spirals on the floor, one continuous long line all the way round the room, while changing the pitch of my voice. I start growling and howling and making all these weird noises. There is someone in the room witnessing our performance, and both me and conor get the feeling that I have really freaked them out. Conor says its ok, and they say that too. It was just a bit of a surprise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I end up lying in the corner of the room... There is some graffiti on the wall, infact all the walls are now covered with graffiti. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people are improvising on the piano. They want me to join in with them, so we form a trio, and they hold a drone rhythm on the lower half, while i improv doing lots of really weird stuff over drone, it is totally wild again, atonal, and even though they are surprised at how wild the sound is, it does work, and sounds really great.. I am realy enjoying myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8826554509846352253?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8826554509846352253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/crazy-music-iprovisations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8826554509846352253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8826554509846352253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/crazy-music-iprovisations.html' title='crazy music iprovisations'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5982314554274042223</id><published>2011-06-17T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T18:18:37.976-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirit objects'/><title type='text'>squeezing a building</title><content type='html'>Often I write down dreams in note form on my phone as I don't have energy to write them out in full when I am in the semi awake state. &lt;br /&gt;Here is a dream in note form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum - lift&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to go with alys, we get separated, can't get back in touch with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trouserless, at a party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet robert dunseath, &lt;br /&gt;So over joyed, we hug, and I cry a tear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have important work to do and people to meet, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet lots of old friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gig listings,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone has given me a name, and put me on a gig, don't know if I want to play yet,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Spirit people on train&lt;br /&gt;A man and a woman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an animal object with me. &lt;br /&gt;Little carved bird, it is a spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them had a little model sheep. He told me that he went everywhere with it, and it helped him in his life. He says to me,&lt;br /&gt;"You can squeeze a building, but it is its function that makes it beautiful"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5982314554274042223?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5982314554274042223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/squeezing-building.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5982314554274042223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5982314554274042223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/squeezing-building.html' title='squeezing a building'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4331918565814377905</id><published>2011-06-17T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-17T18:15:21.737-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being chased'/><title type='text'>gangsters</title><content type='html'>I am with the bees, and with joseph. I am curious how people from different cultures and backgrounds look after bees. I have been contacting Muslims who might be able to show me something about the Islamic faith. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wandering past the botanics in sheffield, and one of the people I've contacted gets back to me. He first of all tells me that there is this event going on in his religion, and that I ought to go to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm near the synagoge in sheffield.&lt;br /&gt;This Muslim chap phones me, the only one to get back to me from my messages, he is telling me how I can learn this stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says I need to go to this place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander looking for this place described, only find this empty wearhouse, near the synagogue. Dad and James find me here. We look around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find a large room on the first floor full of plants growing. They are all kales and mustard leaf plants. I know this must be Richards growing space, I can tell by the plants, and the way they are growing and the feel of the place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to show dad and James this, but they have to go off, so I am now left on my own, as I want to stay to explore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They go, and no sooner have they gone, when I hear new voices in the main hall entrance to the building, and the main lights to the building are switched on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no". Think, "I've left my bike unlocked in the hall, it will get stolen!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voices start shouting and yelling when they see my bike, not because they want to steal it, but because its a sign that I am in the building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear rushing of footsteps up the stairs, they are coming to get me! I am terrified. I feel this must be some secret gangster group or something, and I've broken into there building. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only one thing to do, jump down to the ground floor from this balcony. I can see a foam mattress that I can aim for. Its that or nothing. They will kill me if they catch me, I know. I must take this risk, "after all," I think to myself " it may all turn out to be a dream anyway," &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jump....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4331918565814377905?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4331918565814377905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/gangsters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4331918565814377905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4331918565814377905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/gangsters.html' title='gangsters'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-4116663074681407065</id><published>2011-06-07T02:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T02:12:12.391-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='squash'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bone marrow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meal with strangers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='resturants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='organic shops.'/><title type='text'>bone marrow meal</title><content type='html'>I have a shadowy recollection of a room, with people, and lots happens, its ritual work, and I meet lots of important people, and I take off my white clothes and reveal a silver shirt, which shows who I am, but the dream is too distant for me to properly remember.. I am left with the feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I clearly remember is meeting Carla, she is sat away from the main group of people, and is in a sharp mood. I have not see Carla like this before; its as if she could sting out at any moment, and really snap in her emotions.&lt;br /&gt;I talk to her about this sting she has, and she knows its there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am in sheffield.&lt;br /&gt;I go into a new shop in Crookes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are people buying roasted squash, and fresh vegetables, its a very beautiful combination between a shop and a restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I order some food off a giant squash, ( the squash has a lable on it for 180 pounds,) and I sit down at a table to eat food with people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly some kids come up to me, to see what I'm eating. I show them. It looks like a giant bone, which I scoop the squash out of. It tastes divine. In fact, I think I may be eating bone marrow, the squash is inside a giant bone with the bone marrow. It looks strange, but it is very tasty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some people sat around the table with me. They are the Crookes transition group. They don't know who I am but I have a good idea of who they are. Its interesting listening in on there conversation. One of them says something about toilet paper, and what an unnecessary thing it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its not that bad" I say, "there are worse things about"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh how Little they know about me, I think....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Take calamus root, for example" I say, in a joking way..."now that's bad!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I proceed to make them a pot of calamus root tea. A few of them have left by the time I get back, but the others are still about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drink the tea, and eat some cake, which contrasts very sharply with the tea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We chat into the evening. One of them asks if I am going to the pub for a drink. "I've got a drink here" I say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its all in all avery pleasant meeting with people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-4116663074681407065?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/4116663074681407065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/bone-marrow-meal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4116663074681407065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/4116663074681407065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/bone-marrow-meal.html' title='bone marrow meal'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8155317462211914868</id><published>2011-06-05T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T23:40:56.733-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='competition'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='football'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weeing in nature'/><title type='text'>footbal match</title><content type='html'>We have just finished our walk in nature, learning things about trees and plants, and Bendle now gets us all to stand in a line, because we are about to start a team game. &lt;br /&gt;I have been holding off weeing for a long time, and now I'm really desperate, so I just find a spot near a bush to wee and start weeing. Everyone is now stood in the line, and they can all see me doing my wee. "This is how to take a wee in nature". They all find it amusing, and no-one takes offence.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Bendle divides us into two teams by dividing the strongest of the guys. He picks out me and Nathan, and a couple of the other really fast strong guys, anf then tells us to divide half of the rest between us fairly. I end up on the same side as Mat Lipscombe, and Andy Forbes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going to play a game of football.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we've divided ourselves, the game starts, and Nathan, my rival, has got me in a body lock, like we are wrestling or something. Being slightly stronger than him, I am still able to move about, but greatly restricted. We run off play with the ball, Nathan still holding me. "Out of play" I shout, "play on", says Mr Boardman (who Bendle has become). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We play on....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8155317462211914868?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8155317462211914868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/footbal-match.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8155317462211914868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8155317462211914868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/footbal-match.html' title='footbal match'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5891827015630280465</id><published>2011-06-04T22:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T23:02:11.816-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strange allotments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='canabis growing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy times'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spontanious events'/><title type='text'>Friends, gatherings  and strange allotments</title><content type='html'>I'm in wellow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruth and sara come to see me, and they go off to the shepherds hut, which surprises me, because I didn't think either of them had been here before. Ruth has seen me down here before, and then I remember, oh yes! She tells me that  people are coming tomorrow! They are expecting me to run a course! "I can't do that", I say "I've not prepared!" She and sara say it will be fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruth has loads more confidence than I've ever seen before. It is quiet amazing how she has changed. I find this new Ruth even more attractive than I did before! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She shows sara the shepherds hut and we chat and hug. Now we are outside again and we talk more about what I can do tomorrow. I feel happy that I can show people about, all spontaneous and stuff....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we are in sheffield, its a party vibe; I'm just outside peace in the park, &lt;br /&gt;I have been given this allotment space which is in a garage. it is one allotment which is a part of a site. It's such a strange allotment site, there are about 4 plots and they are all under cover and in a old narrow but long garage... Mine isn't just under cover, it is also in a loft like place, with a window at the top end. No one will know about this place, it is so secret and hidden - its the perfect place to grow da weed! I think about asking the police for information regarding cannabis, and its legal status, I want to know how many plants you can grow and still claim it to be personal use. I wonder if this is a dodgy thing to ask them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to climb down a ladder to get back down, and sara and ruth are coming up to me, to see what I've found. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elise comes running up to me too, we have a really big hug and spin around. She has a french friend with her too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elise looks very attractive, and I feel wrong for thinking this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all so happy.... So so happy....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5891827015630280465?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5891827015630280465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/sheffield-friends-gatherings-and_04.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5891827015630280465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5891827015630280465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/sheffield-friends-gatherings-and_04.html' title='Friends, gatherings  and strange allotments'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7689311249994078508</id><published>2011-06-02T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T23:36:25.962-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Art gallery.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spirit world. Mbira'/><title type='text'>Art gallery Mbira</title><content type='html'>I am in Sheffield somewhere down by the industrial area. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go inside an old building where a group of us have been making art work. We have a load of rooms where we have been painting the walls with beautiful murals - pictures of animals and people, with bright colours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in one of the rooms i am standing, a group of people are in there, and we are planning what to do next with the sapce. We realise that we have created a permanent art gallery, and we just need to keep painting new pictures , and then people will come. We let people in for free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have some music playing, and i play some music as well. I play my Mbira. It is a magical noise. It transports me into the woods, and then i am walking with a group of people, and there are two lines of people. They are people who have come to learn about wild plants. I meet a magical wise man, and the occasion is an important one, he says that its not quite the right time to play the Mbira.. I get out an mbira that i have been given by the spirit world to call the people.... it has only got 3 keys to it, and it has got the name of God carved in the front, in symbolic form. When I play it, the wise man says that this is right, and the timing is perfect. I only play 3 keys, and everyone is called and comes to listen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a crow caws in normal reality waking me up. I wake up it is 5 am in the morning, and im in the yurt in wellow. The crow that has woken me flies off somewhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7689311249994078508?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7689311249994078508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/art-gallery-mbira.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7689311249994078508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7689311249994078508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/06/art-gallery-mbira.html' title='Art gallery Mbira'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2212201162584533002</id><published>2011-05-30T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T15:32:40.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rosa dream</title><content type='html'>I've been on a train, traveling to get somewhere.... Its very late at night, about 5 or 6 o'clock in the morning... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm passing Rosa's house, and I have something to drop off, so I call round to post it through the letter box, and to my surprise, I see Rosa is still up. She is sat on a sofa, doing some nitting or crochet or something. I wave through the window, and she, to her surprise, sees me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wave to her to let me come in, even though its sillily late/early.... She opens the door, and I give her a big hug, so big, that when I stop hugging, she is all off balance, and falls back onto the ground, banging her bum on the ground, landing right on that hard bone at the tip of the spine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no! I cry! "I'm so sorry!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that must really hurt.. I fear it will put her out for a week, but she gets up, and says she is fine. We sit and chat for a while... I can't remember what we chat about, but its a great chat all the same..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so good to see her again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2212201162584533002?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2212201162584533002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/rosa-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2212201162584533002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2212201162584533002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/rosa-dream.html' title='rosa dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8374272227501290934</id><published>2011-05-27T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T15:33:33.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was at coed, and I meet Hannah... We go traveling, and now we are by the sea... I meet Simon, Anne-Marie, Jo and Jazmine, and we have a chat on the beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm back in somerset, and I have hired a van, but I dont know how to drive it. I think it will be easy, but when I try to break, I realise that i can't. The van is now rolling down the hill, and i end up tipping it over, while im driving, by turning very sharply. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've broke the van, but its still ok, only a little more scrached. The van hire people come to help me, its ok they say. Then they offer me advice, and tell me what to do about all my sheffield missions. I am helped alot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im in the kitchen. Mum is tiling in the bath rooms, I see her work. It is a blue tile that she is using and it looks nice. Adrien is coming round, and we have made some food for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are roasting squash!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8374272227501290934?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8374272227501290934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-was-at-coed-and-i-meet-hannah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8374272227501290934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8374272227501290934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-was-at-coed-and-i-meet-hannah.html' title=''/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2766989975673981166</id><published>2011-05-27T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T15:25:54.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stolen bike!</title><content type='html'>I'm with some friends in Sheffield, we are in some flats, and some people are following us around... Ive left my bike somewhere, when I go back it is taken... everything seems to be going wrong, its really difficult to cope... there are police following us.... hard to remember all the dream...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2766989975673981166?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2766989975673981166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/stolen-bike.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2766989975673981166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2766989975673981166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/stolen-bike.html' title='stolen bike!'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-753063702760591200</id><published>2011-05-24T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T12:24:02.313-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring water'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paralized'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='out of body experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick'/><title type='text'>paralysed</title><content type='html'>I've just had some lovely dreams, and I'm now waking up, in the shepherds hut. I can see the sun shining and the birds are singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm awake now, and I want to get up, but have that sluggish "Can't get up" feel in my limbs, so I just remain lying there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My vision is funny, its not what it usually is in the morning. For some reason my eyes are transfixed on one particular spot; I'm just staring, staring at the table, the candles, the books, and when I move my self, my vision is still the same picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong? I wonder to my self....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head feels strange; my mind is doing one thing, while my body seems to be doing another. Am I paralysed? I keep trying to move, and to will my body to move, to get up, but there is no response. It feels like my nervous system has stopped working. I can't move, no matter how hard i try to will so with my mind. This experience is very similar to an experience you might get after smoking a fairly large amount of salvia divinorm. You just loose all grip on reality, the familiar, and the connection between your nervous system and your mind totally breaks down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in this state I discover something interesting... It seems to be one of two possibilities.... I notice that I can move, but my vision has stayed the same... the same table with candles and books, no change there.... but the feeling I am having is not one of being in my bed now, but of being outside of it... I can walk about, while my vision stays the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it is not this happening, it could be just that my mind is creating an experience as if I were walking about... I get glimpses through the feeling of suddenly being outside, or of looking back at me in the bed.... Weather I am actually walking about or that my spirit has left my body, I can't tell. But there is definately an experience of two of me at the same time, one feelings based, the other vision based.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I have got this illness, that this stuckness in my vision is not right... I ought to be seeing things through my eyes, not this same picture of table, candles and books...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get a sudden glimpse of myself, and I look very sick. I've got this crazy rash that has appeared overnight and it is covering all of the top of my face, and it is red and blotchy and spotty. My skin is dry and cracked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now panic. I try to call out for help. I try to text people to help, but I can't read the screen, i can only feel the phone in my hands. I try to text from the feel of what it feels like to text, but I really don't know how, i can't remember the positions of the letters well enough to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cry out for help. I most of all call to the earth to help me heal, to help me find medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I manage to crawl out of hut; I have got just enough vision to get out.. I find myself at a spring... I hear the water bubbling into a plastic shape which is a part of a car, and acting as a water catcher, an I can see enough to see the water. I scoop my hands into the water and drink. It works; I can feel the water running down my throat, and I feel my strength returning. All this time I am aware that my vision, or whatever it is that is stuck is still in bed, in the same position that it was in when I woke up. Perhaps it is my spirit that has drunk at the spring....who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear Judith an dad talking, they are talking about going for a walk. Dad tells jude to come and get me to come for a walk too... I am still all messed up, despite the refreshing drink of spring water, and so I call out to jude and she comes over and I say "can't you see the red rash all around my face?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not really" She says... She cant see whats wrong with me... I wonder if this is me or my spirit me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its crazy she can't see, when I saw it on me so clearly. I just wander my body back to my bed slowly, and think "I must find a doctor on my own!"....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a bit of a rest, I set off on a journey to find a doctor who can help me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-753063702760591200?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/753063702760591200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/paralysed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/753063702760591200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/753063702760591200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/paralysed.html' title='paralysed'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3076957728541055127</id><published>2011-05-18T13:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T13:06:52.537-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tools'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='building structures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helping out'/><title type='text'>coed dream</title><content type='html'>I'm at coed, and we are building a house together collectively. &lt;br /&gt;Its a wooden timber frame structure and I'm helping out with it. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get it up in a day.&lt;br /&gt;This is the future of building, I know this for sure, and decide I must build one for myself one day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to borrow some tools off Timo, and I help him in exchange. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet Hannah. She has been really struggling last weekend, feeling like being trapped by a spider. An echeart tolle book really helped her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3076957728541055127?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3076957728541055127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/coed-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3076957728541055127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3076957728541055127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/coed-dream.html' title='coed dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-6271288347191117925</id><published>2011-05-16T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T07:12:43.755-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sickness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illness'/><title type='text'>dark flies dream</title><content type='html'>Last night I had dark dreams..I dreamed I was in my bed and flies kept landing on me, and I kept swatting them away, and it went on for ages, and they kept coming, and I was surounded by loads of dead flies. There was a bad smell... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morn, and my digestion was all messed up.... Its rare for me to get ill, so I take it as a sign that I'm not listening to my body at the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-6271288347191117925?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6271288347191117925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/dark-flies-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6271288347191117925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6271288347191117925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/dark-flies-dream.html' title='dark flies dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5323951644805138350</id><published>2011-05-16T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T07:08:58.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>musical baby genius</title><content type='html'>I call round at Conor and Alys's. They are struggling again with money, and alys is getting stressed by it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm playing piano with the big band. I have been asked to babysit this autistic blind kid, who is only 2 years old. He is something of a musical genius, so I've sat him with me at the piano as the big band starts up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first piece has quite a lot of scat singing, and baby sings out in response to the various singers. Its unbelievable how much ability this kid has. He then starts playing piano melodies like a professional musician, and everyone is amazed. He also talks to me like a mature grown up at 2! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He talks about growing up.. He is really scared about growing up.... Due to a rare genetic condition he has, he has matured and aged a lot sooner than all other two year olds. He will likely die younger than the other people his age, and he will likely not fit I at all at school. He has already started growing a beard, and reaching sexual maturity at 2! Here is a kid who is way off the scale of normal...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5323951644805138350?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5323951644805138350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/musical-baby-genius.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5323951644805138350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5323951644805138350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/musical-baby-genius.html' title='musical baby genius'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5124346904627385892</id><published>2011-05-16T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T04:12:55.315-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badgers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fruit trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foxes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cows'/><title type='text'>animals</title><content type='html'>I'm taking a group of people on a wild food walk. There are so many people that we have to split into 3 groups. For some reason, my group are a bit later, I'm with the new comers, and we go out later than the others, with the intention to catch up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find a nice spot to sit to start the walk. I want to get the group to talk to the plants, so I say, "this exercise is called The Tree Speaks", and one guy in the group, John Biggins the mathemation, gets it immediately, and says "so we talk to the tree and the tree tells us what it can do" "exactly" I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I get up from my seat a big bumbling, baby cow comes gambling along through the woods. Its the most friendly of creatures, and bounces right over to me, practically knocking me over in the process. This cow doesn't look much like a cow, but more like the costume cows you see in amateur theatre productions, where 2 people are dressed up, one holding the waist of the other. There is an even littler cow with this bumbling cow, who is following the older cow. The cow seems to be telling me that this is not the right exercise to do right now, that the group won't be ready for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at the sacred trust, and we are doing work on the land. I see a fox and follow the fox to learn more of its behaviours. Its surprisingly easy following fox, and I am amazed at the ease with which fox moves across the landscape. The fox is very tame and comes right up to a group of us are sitting. I notice badger is with us also, and fox and badger have some silent communication between them, which we can't hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Now fox runs off again and I get up and follow fox along the river bank. I come to a green house, within which I see some baby fruit trees that are struggling. We need to get them some more water. I do a back bend in the greenhouse with the support of a step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now with a group&lt;br /&gt;of us, discussing some important point. One of the women is telling us about her fiery drive for love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5124346904627385892?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5124346904627385892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/animals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5124346904627385892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5124346904627385892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/animals.html' title='animals'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3667788783923718276</id><published>2011-05-16T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T04:07:58.383-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='waterfalls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wolves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journeys'/><title type='text'>wolf dream</title><content type='html'>We are up in the mountains, by a frozen lake. I push a big ice statue out across the ice, and watch it slide and skid its way into the middle of the lake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rosa is here and I'm worried she will get too cold as she is only wearing a dressing gown. She says she is fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a big waterfall at the end of the lake that has not frozen. Mum is walking close to the waterfall and she says to follow her. There are dogs with us, and the dogs are leading us to where we will find food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walk a short way through a forest and a wolf appears. The dogs at first bark, but then are quiet. This wolf is not trying to threaten us, but is just curious. The light in the wolf's eyes is wise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3667788783923718276?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3667788783923718276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/wolf-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3667788783923718276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3667788783923718276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/wolf-dream.html' title='wolf dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3688027318057391479</id><published>2011-05-06T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T23:26:40.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dogs, fields and music for hospitals</title><content type='html'>I'm in the park, with friends. The dogs have wandered off. We call them back, and one of them starts howling like a wolf, which sets off all the others. We are running together now, through beautiful woodland, dogs barking and howling all the way back, in a big pack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to the fields, the steep north facing slopes have all been ploughed up and down the slope, contrary to how I would instinctively plough. Seeds have been sown in all of the drills, and they are coming up through the weeds in the thousands. Beetroots, carrots, parsnips, salads, so many as far as the eye can see. I meet someone from the allotments, and tell her how amazing this is. &lt;br /&gt;She says its not as amazing as it used to be, I know what she means somehow, as there are a lot of weeds growing in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the plant Hearts Ease, I pick some, saying,&lt;br /&gt; "just look at how beautiful this flower is"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She agrees and points out some other beautiful flowers. We wander to the top of the hill together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now revisiting Hospital. I was living there for a long time, and now I have to go back to find where I was once living. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wander into the wrong room, I've lost all sense of direction and feel quite drunk. I see a friend, who sees that I don't know where I'm going and she tries to give me directions. I vaguely follow, but its not working, and I wander into a ward, which is mostly empty, but there is a nurse treating a girl in a bed. The girl looks a bit like a friend of mine, but she is a lot over weight, and has nervous system damage and can't move very well. Also her skin has a lot of spots. For some reason, I am overjoyed that I have found her, and I start singing a song. When I start singing, a little diamond spiral appears above one of the medicine tables in the ward, and I go over to it. Its alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The hospital staff now find me and take me out of the ward, but the work has been done. I get lost again on my escorted walk out of the hospital- more work to do. I see my friend conor. He is here, and we need to play some music together. We have to run and hide from the staff who will try to take us out of the hospital.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3688027318057391479?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3688027318057391479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/dogs-fields-and-music-for-hospitals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3688027318057391479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3688027318057391479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/dogs-fields-and-music-for-hospitals.html' title='dogs, fields and music for hospitals'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3494875205054886143</id><published>2011-05-05T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T01:28:58.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a mix of themes</title><content type='html'>Sacred place in attic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lit a fire, bees angry, get attacked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With james,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shakespeare lies up in the attic too. Its been blocked cos some people didn't was us to meet Shakespeare. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;Conor, we run up stairs to go to sleep, grafting knives on the bed, lots of, had to clear them out of way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With maria and robert , have a wee outside, robert sees,   &lt;br /&gt;Garden is full of things growing, &lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;Just smoking 6 cigarettes could damage your health, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With simon, and group, we ready for journey, &lt;br /&gt;At the beginning..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rosa change - chating about her writing, she was doing some writing that referenced lots.. &lt;br /&gt;About mythological creatures,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was doing a seed swap in sheffield, or leeds, the tables get turned over while I'm out of the room, disruptive behavour..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like its being held in a student place, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of a play, to music by Verdi, opera style,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3494875205054886143?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3494875205054886143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/mix-of-themes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3494875205054886143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3494875205054886143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/mix-of-themes.html' title='a mix of themes'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2373055130605924101</id><published>2011-05-05T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T01:21:44.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fools gold</title><content type='html'>I'm in wellow, and james invites me to an event, up over the hills, a short walk away. &lt;br /&gt;I wonder weather I want to go, and then, almost without choosing, I'm walking over the hills with james. He gives me this spongy thing as says eat it, as that's what he is doing. Its a special drug which needs to be eaten by those who come to this event. I already have my doubts as to what to do, but, since I have come so far, I go with it anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wander through some fields and come to a path at the edge of a wood. The path becomes a small road, and goes through a tunnel. Water runs in the tunnel, in a stream beside the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have come through the tunnel now into a clearing with a group of people. James seems to disappear, and the drug that I have eaten really gets to work. I enter into a different reality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at a fairground. There's gnomes and fairy's all over the place, running stalls, and I get attracted by one, and it pulls me in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pull the lever of this game,&lt;br /&gt;This game is a trick. All too late, I realise I've been tricked. I am teleported to a new reality, where I don't know my way back. My phone has had all its contacts erased. Uncle matthew is with me, strangely enough, and this comforts me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone simply won't work, everything has been erased. There are a whole load of windows in front of me, and different shapes and numbers are appearing before my eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pick one of the windows, and now the numbers come back onto my phone. I ring wellow, and I speak to james, and tell him to help me get out of here. He tells me directions. I have to go back through the tunnel, but this time I have to swim as the water has risen dramatically. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swim through the tunnel, and cross the fields, and get back to normal reality in wellow. I check my phone. Its not working again! Oh no! I thought I'd woken up out of that dream! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The Tremellens bees swarmed, you caught them, but then they disappeared again... We found them up on a hill just near the spring, an open site, where the winds came across. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can you use fools gold for"? Someone asks me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I say, "just ask it"&lt;br /&gt;So we ask, and I get feeling that its inert and non conductive, and can be used for protecting things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2373055130605924101?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2373055130605924101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/fools-gold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2373055130605924101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2373055130605924101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/fools-gold.html' title='fools gold'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1730618007567750538</id><published>2011-05-05T01:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T01:18:31.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>egyptian food growing and Jesus love</title><content type='html'>Had dream about growing plants, met with darrel and richard, and simon, we were being shown how the egyptians grew there food, in little troughs, with planks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also dreamed I met joe, rosas boyfriend with rosa. We went to a gig, everyone was wearing Jesus t shirts, there was big feeling of love everywhere, love everywhere in the air, on peoples faces, I could feel the love in the gathering, and in the place. This love was what Jesus was all about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1730618007567750538?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1730618007567750538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/egyptian-food-growing-and-jesus-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1730618007567750538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1730618007567750538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/egyptian-food-growing-and-jesus-love.html' title='egyptian food growing and Jesus love'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5511971435198510144</id><published>2011-05-05T01:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T01:14:10.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a mix- romance, prey predator, bows and arrows</title><content type='html'>I'm down south. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the a course, I am eating food, and a disabled person near me tells me she likes me and asks how old I am. I say 26, and probably blush, as everyone around can hear. After eating we listen to some really amazing music about jesus, its not Christian rock or anything, its about jesus from a critical thinking perspective. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now going to bed, but before bed I hang out with my friend charly. The disabled girl is with me again, and this time she is looking a lot more attractive, and I think, maybe it could work.. No harm in trying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charly shows me some really beautiful objects that she has, and we tell bed time stories.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the land we find a caged area with a killer squirrel. This crazed creature has been running around eating all the little mice and small creatures, and has grown so savage and huge, con sequentially. We release a giant buzzard or some bird of prey, not sure which. And this giant bird swoops down and pins the giant squirrel. It rips it open and starts to feed on the kill. I come in and assist the bird, by chopping off the tail and the legs. Its a savage bloody scene, but somehow feels right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm with trackways, and we are practising with plastic bow and arrows and boomerangs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are simply seeing how far and straight we can shoot. I have to hold the bow so that others can pull back on the string. One kid shoots much further and straighter than the others, and it was due to his prayer, and that he stood straight behind me, lined up with my body.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5511971435198510144?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5511971435198510144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/mix-romance-prey-predator-bows-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5511971435198510144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5511971435198510144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/mix-romance-prey-predator-bows-and.html' title='a mix- romance, prey predator, bows and arrows'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3481709294284031672</id><published>2011-05-05T01:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T01:10:50.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a mix of themes- allotments and sexual behaviour,</title><content type='html'>I meet richard, we chat,I realise that he is risking all for his plants, he loves them very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bump into him on his allotment in the corner., I'm surprised to see him. He is surprised to see me too. He is pushing a wheel barrow down the hill, with planks on and other stuff. He has cleared the fruit area for community share, and is letting people come and use the space. He has also built some new raised beds that are very thin, this is not like him to do this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at the top of crosspool, travelling across the city, I'm walking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I come to sharrow lane orchard house. Its an important spot. I meet the family. The mother, the son who is about 14, the daughter who is about 11 and the baby who is about 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son is a very touchy feely type, always expressing himself through touch. He hugs me very strongly and sits close. He grabs his sister and feels her up through her clothes; her breasts and her vagina. She resists, and pretends that she doesn't like it, but really she does. She knows that he has problems with self control, and forgives him for his behaviour. She is a lot more mature than he is, despite being 2 years younger. Her breasts are already fully formed, and she could easily be mistaken for an 18 year old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now with rosa, she is baking bread. I am doing something with the bees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3481709294284031672?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3481709294284031672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/mix-of-themes-allotments-and-sexual.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3481709294284031672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3481709294284031672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/mix-of-themes-allotments-and-sexual.html' title='a mix of themes- allotments and sexual behaviour,'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1284223639352801305</id><published>2011-05-05T01:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T01:01:58.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>militarry coverup</title><content type='html'>There has been some militarry coverup opperation.,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of shops across town are closed, but I manage to sneek into then, find big boxes that look like wepons, or something military. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something really terrible is going to happen, I know, most people don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;' Hitler never learnt what the jews had to teach him'&lt;br /&gt;I say to a group of friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The police find me,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1284223639352801305?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1284223639352801305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/militarry-coverup.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1284223639352801305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1284223639352801305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/militarry-coverup.html' title='militarry coverup'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-6706737911370749712</id><published>2011-05-04T03:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T03:56:53.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>echarte tolle</title><content type='html'>Meet echarte tolle, we are going for a walk as a group. I'm with the clan, we have a choise who we go with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paradox is there too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm with the group who choose to go for a walk. I find a meditation spot- a bench my a river.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-6706737911370749712?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6706737911370749712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/echarte-tolle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6706737911370749712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6706737911370749712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/05/echarte-tolle.html' title='echarte tolle'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1835476511746492195</id><published>2011-03-31T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T00:28:28.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a wandering journey</title><content type='html'>I'm journeying with ruth along a high rope ladder,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cross to magic lands of glastonbury,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in a game, people are playing what looks like squash,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We feel out of place,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wander through into caves and tunnels and streets,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost ruth, I'm on the streets and some dark demonic force is seeking me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like frodo and the dark lord, the eye that can see me, I try to hide in he centre of the earth, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still found. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't hold off this force much longer! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find aa beach hidden behind some cliffs, someone has made a fire,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get the embers going, and the fire starts up again,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This protects me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fire attracts the positive spirits,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now at a meal with jo am rich addy and a few others,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all surprised rich is here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are playing really good music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is he hear, he says something, still his ego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a fire in AM's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is her blessing and curse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am by a railway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear something coming, its a car and then its a train - back to the future,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then fairy like creatures along the tracks &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They lead me off to the musical lands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm travelling between cities through loop holes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm meeting lots of musicians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking for something that I need to find. I need to find where I belong. It is very crowded, and I feel restless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I am outside again, and I'm part of an expedition. And we are heading to the jungle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a close friend with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They can't follow me past a certain point, we drop down these rope ladders, I go on alone, with a smaller group. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are nearing our destination,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We come into an aphitheater, and its a ceremony by native elders of the jungle. They are looking for the right person in. The crowd to sing us a song. A young lad starts singing a flamenco style song, its the right omen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1835476511746492195?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1835476511746492195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/03/wandering-journey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1835476511746492195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1835476511746492195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/03/wandering-journey.html' title='a wandering journey'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-6405272515312032341</id><published>2011-03-31T00:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T00:12:08.877-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mandalas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='andromeda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apples'/><title type='text'>andromeda</title><content type='html'>I am in a place in america, its a very polluted place, next to a factory. It used to be next to an old farm, but the old farm is long gone. There is a funny smell in the air, and the air seems to be full of dust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We meet an old chap, who tells us about the history of the place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tells me that the farm used to grow lots of fruit, and in particular, lots of apples. I get a sense of where some will be, and before he even has finished telling us where the old apple tree stands I am already wandering in the direction of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the old apple tree, littered with fruit around it, fallen from its not so long ago crop. No-one has been here in a long time. The apples as well as the whole area, are covered in dust, the pollution from the factory. We figure that we can wash the pollution off the apples or peel them so we pick a load to take back with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am chatting to my dad, "I once said to someone, 'the concept doesn't do it for me' but then, I thought, its true, the idea can be very beautiful, but if it only remains as an idea without becoming real, it lacks something. Likewise, a beautiful object, no matter how well crafted, if it lacks its concept, it lacks context and true meaning, and again I loose interest. A good work of art needs both a good concept and needs to be well crafted, for it to last the test of time. This is why too much specialisation in art needs to be avoided as much as not enough specialisation. Its about finding a balance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a picture on wall, a giant mandala, like a crop circle, spiralling out from the centre, many meters across. It consists of lots of blue squares, and electric coloured lines running out from the centre in all directions. A famous artist has painted it, someone like banksy, and they are still there adding the finishing touches to it. We are sat around watching the painting being finished, while a piece of music plays in the background. The music has been written to go with the painting, and since the painting is nearly finished, so to is the piece of music. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sounds I hear are abstract, like the orb, travelling far out into space, echoes of a distant galaxy... The artist tells me that here lies andromeda - the painting he tells me, is also a map, and in the far right-hand corner of the painting lies the distant planet andromeda. The music is playing the sounds from this place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-6405272515312032341?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/6405272515312032341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/03/andromeda.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6405272515312032341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/6405272515312032341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/03/andromeda.html' title='andromeda'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-856319237264182152</id><published>2011-01-24T23:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T23:37:06.392-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the coop meal</title><content type='html'>I meet my brother Joe, and i chat to him regarding what he's been up to. He has been working hard gathering money, and now he's relaxing and having a holiday, enjoying his time off. Its a birthday for him, or laura who he's with.&lt;br /&gt;He shows me some important things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm getting ready for a coop meal. We are looking for the right place to hold the meal and its proving difficult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in quite a built up environment, somewhere close to the city centre. &lt;br /&gt;There are a group of buildings all strung together on many different levels. The streets outside are mostly paved, but there are a few trees. I really need a wee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coop group are relying on me to find a place, and I keep running around looking for somewhere for our meal, but nowhere seems right. I keep going down stairs, and I come into a little restaurant. The chef who runs the restaurant has in the past run lots of cooking courses. He is a humble experienced man. He will help us, the coop find a place, and run courses for us.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I leave the restaurant via the back door onto a courtyard, there are a number of salad plants outside. I find a corner to have my wee. I wee for ages and ages. And there are people who see, and yet they are not bothered, and neither am I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The restaurant is a very cool hip place to hang out in. I rush back to tell the coop people I have found somewhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meal is ready and they are waiting for me. There are 5 places laid, its outside. kristina is missing, and I ask where she is. They say she is on her way. Rosie drops her off, she is wet from the rain, and there has been some arguments between them. She is looking worn out. She decides she has to get off somewhere and can't stay for the meal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-856319237264182152?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/856319237264182152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/coop-meal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/856319237264182152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/856319237264182152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/coop-meal.html' title='the coop meal'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-8164932785317331353</id><published>2011-01-24T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T23:33:48.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the apple tree</title><content type='html'>I'm on the hangingwater allotment, and david, the old gardener, is wanting to help me. He says I need to do some liming, so I show him my bag of limestone dust, but he says its not the right type. He has these huge sacks of lime, and he starts filling a large mixing bowl, and attempts to carry the large mixing bowl over to the apple tree, where there is an even larger mixing bowl in the branches of the tree. I can see he is struggling, so I offer to carry it for him, taking it off his hands and emptying it into the bowl in the tree. I've never done liming like this before, but I trust in David's experience, that he must know what he's doing. He goes back to the sack and gets out even more limestone dust, and again, I help carry it, and we keep filling up the bowl in the apple tree, until the sack is empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some friends have come to help me with lifting the lime into the apple tree. There is an old swing still hanging in the tree that comes in useful, which is a bit dangerous, but still strong enough to hold weight. Four of my friends are up in the apple tree lining up the bowl, which has kept growing in size, in the apple tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the ritual magic begins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The full moon rises over the hill. Its bright light shines down onto the giant mixing bowl in the apple tree, and the bowl in the branches has been placed at a particular point so that, when the moon reaches its zenith, the trunk of the apple tree casts a shadow over the bowl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the right moment, a cosmic alignment. This is the special technique used by david to lime the land. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the apple tree has grown very big. We are having a large gathering under the apple tree, and anne-marie is here. The gathering is a bit like allotment soup. There are people playing games in and around the apple tree. A lot of friends from Coed are here. There are lots of interesting looking art around the trunk of tree. Anne marie tells me that there are lots of amazing stones up in the tree, and that Jo is up there somewhere. I climb up into the apple tree, which now has become like a giant tree house with many levels, and close to the top of the tree I meet a few old friends who show me the old wings I made. "Look", they say, "you made these wings". I'm sat on top of my wings. They are like an aeroplanes wings, only made out of wood. They are at the very top of the tree. I climb down off my wings into a little room. Jo is making little arty objects out of pottery, and is using a really unusual technique for making them. People are sat about watching him. He has a large bowl which he spins very fast, like a potters wheel, and he places his lump of wet clay in the bowl, and in combination with manipulating the clay with his hands, he blows it very hard. Bowl like shapes form in the spinning clay. It is quite amazing. He talks us through the process carefully. He shows us the finished objects he has made using this technique. They are small, glazed leaves and plates and some just interesting organic shapes. Jo says that he likes having something leafy like on each of the things he makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some objects that are not made out of clay, they are soft. "Are these edible?" I ask Jo. "Yeah", he says, " it does say jam on the box". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it does! I try one of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A group of friends have wandered off from the apple tree to the sea side. I follow them, and we get to the shore just a dusk. all of a sudden I see a large sailing boat setting sail through the harbour entrance straight towards the setting sun. It suddenly looks like the boat is surrounded by golden yellow light and is floating in the air. "Quick! Take a picture!" I say to my friend. The light fades too fast for us to get a picture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see the boat sailing out to meet another boat, this other boat is a boat from a distant land. The people on the other boat set fire to the sails. At first this seems crazy, but then I realise that this is a symbol of there journey; they have arrived, there is no more travel to do. These travellers are natives from a country that still lives close to the land, that lives in harmony with nature. &lt;br /&gt;The look on their faces are weather beaten. &lt;br /&gt; They meet with the boat from our land. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now on a mission with anne marie. She is wandering ahead of the rest of us, and only a few are able to follow her. She is heading south, through many miles of dense forest, wandering in the tracks of a vehicle that had paved the way some years ago. She is laying out carpet into the forest. She must lay out the carpet 10000 trees long. This is the project. We wander into france, and see lots of wild life as we go. Anne marie is always a few steps ahead of the rest of us, laying out the carpet for us the follow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-8164932785317331353?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/8164932785317331353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/apple-tree.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8164932785317331353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/8164932785317331353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/apple-tree.html' title='the apple tree'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1565091100573407127</id><published>2011-01-14T02:59:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T03:04:11.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dream maps</title><content type='html'>&lt;ahref="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&amp;hl=en&amp;msa=0&amp;ll=56.14555,-2.471924&amp;spn=1.239394,2.469177&amp;t=h&amp;z=9&amp;msid=211498691180806611733.000499cc3e4fb56b1d331"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check out this link to this island i dreamed about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream was very much related to the landscape of this area, particularly the flat bit of fife that stretches out to the sea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1565091100573407127?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1565091100573407127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-maps_3184.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1565091100573407127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1565091100573407127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-maps_3184.html' title='dream maps'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-595070649183991336</id><published>2011-01-14T02:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T03:02:57.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dream maps</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&amp;hl=en&amp;msa=0&amp;ll=56.14555,-2.471924&amp;spn=1.239394,2.469177&amp;t=h&amp;z=9&amp;msid=211498691180806611733.000499cc3e4fb56b1d331"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check out this link to this island i dreamed about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream was very much related to the landscape of this area, particularly the flat bit of fife that stretches out to the sea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-595070649183991336?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/595070649183991336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-maps_14.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/595070649183991336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/595070649183991336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-maps_14.html' title='dream maps'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3447787439827376171</id><published>2011-01-14T02:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T03:00:20.062-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dream maps</title><content type='html'>http://maps.google.co.uk/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&amp;hl=en&amp;msa=0&amp;ll=56.14555,-2.471924&amp;spn=1.239394,2.469177&amp;t=h&amp;z=9&amp;msid=211498691180806611733.000499cc3e4fb56b1d331&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check out this link to this island i dreamed about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream was very much related to the landscape of this area, particularly the flat bit of fife that stretches out to the sea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3447787439827376171?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3447787439827376171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-maps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3447787439827376171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3447787439827376171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-maps.html' title='dream maps'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-3820647379961301551</id><published>2011-01-12T02:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T02:20:41.839-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='singing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='piano'/><title type='text'>clare de lune</title><content type='html'>Someone is asking me to play clare de lune on the piano, so I begin to play it, but the they say it doesn't sound right,&lt;br /&gt;"Its not sounding like the way you played it before"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I say "I can play it the way I want to play it, but not how others want me to play it",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She disagrees with me on this point, and I ignore her and begin to play again, but she is right, I was playing it in the wrong key...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another person comes along, this time a man, and says,&lt;br /&gt; "you need to play it louder at the beginning",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is surely wrong, so I try to demonstrate, and argue that he clearly hasn't seen the score, &lt;br /&gt;"Look at the score", I say, "it says quietly",&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to sing it to him, pointing out the fact that there is a hidden beat at the very beginning of the piece, that unless you knew the piece you wouldn't know it was there....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sing it to the man and woman, and now they get where I'm coming from, and I also feel I know where I'm coming from...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The magic of singing...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-3820647379961301551?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/3820647379961301551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/clare-de-lune.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3820647379961301551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/3820647379961301551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/clare-de-lune.html' title='clare de lune'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7304520687590214133</id><published>2011-01-11T04:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T04:10:03.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>games and mussels</title><content type='html'>I'm playing some kind of chase game with a bunch of kids. We are in some woods, and basically the aim is that they, all the kids, have to get me pinned down and beaten! Well, there are about 5 of them, and I'm much bigger, so its about fair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now in an open field and one of the kids begins playing boomerang with some roofing slate! This is too dangerous! The slates could take someones head off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I retreat back to the woods by jumping over a fence, and as they are trying to get over the fence I retreat down the slope into the thick of the woods....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in wellow, I've locked my self in the house, they won't get in here...great! I can rest for a while, these kids are relentless! Granny and pete are in the front room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pete says "mussels and oysters are great for cleansing t gall bladder. They are particularly good for women in helping them to heal"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really?" I say,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, the amount of women I've met who have instinctively eaten mussels or oysters, or that kind of sea food, just when there gall bladder is in a real need of a cleanse is remarkable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow, that is amazing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear the noise of kids coming in through the back door: Granny has let them in, she doesn't know about the game! They come rushing in, and I try to push them back out of the house, but its clearly not going to work... I humbly admit defeat! They have won for now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7304520687590214133?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7304520687590214133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/games-and-mussels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7304520687590214133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7304520687590214133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/games-and-mussels.html' title='games and mussels'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-437430973385413717</id><published>2011-01-09T03:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T03:04:59.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>notre dame</title><content type='html'>I'm back at school, I have to complete one more year. I walk out of the old sixform block into the sunshine... I can't understand why I'm baxk here, it doesn't feel right. Surely I should have finnished my education now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few of my friends are lying on the grass, so I wander over to join them. There are a mix of guys and girls and, as the weather is hot, a few of the guys have taken there tops off, and in general, its too hot for much clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One girl strips down to underwear for a laugh, and this makes me smile. We all know she could get into trouble for this... She quickly puts back on more clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all flirting. Well, this usually means that the most confident of us are flirting, and the less confident of us are sitting around like sheep, wishing we had the boldness to flirt. One guy goes as far as to get his dick out, and there he sits, proudly displaying his semi erect penis in his groin. He's proud of the fact that he's the owner of a large cock. &lt;br /&gt;Another guy takes the same strategy, and both of them soon have all the girls attention, and it leaves the rest of us feeling a bit weird... Are we all supposed to act like this? I must either join this flirting game or leave, cos right now I don't feel comfortable. I think that maybe ill get one of the nice quiet girls to go with me from the back of the group, but I chicken out, and decide to explore the woods! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say to the group "who wants to come explore the woods?," &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get little attention; they must think I'm such a child... Playing in the woods!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck em! I think, though I don't really mean it, I'm just jealous and shy that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I'm sneaking around woods just like good ol'days, enjoying the thrill of doing something I know I shouldn't! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the teachers sees me, and, since I don't want to get caught, I learn to fly and take all the short cuts... This is so much easier than before! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sneak into a part of the school that has not yet been finished building. Its very strange. I find my self in a huge classroom, the size of an assembly room or a concert hall, and the wall on one side is all computerised, so that large groups of people can all see what the teacher is doing- its like a giant cinema screen but with more gadgets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like the feel of what's going on here, something doesn't feel right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get the sense that I'm seeing things that the teachers don't want me to see, but since I'm an inquisitive kinda guy, I decide to play a game with them, and wander around all those places I'm not meant to go. Besides, I know I won't get caught, I have super powers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking for something very important, its like the box of secret files, I know it must be around here somewhere! The teachers are all looking for me now, I must have sounded an alarm! Quick! Better get outa here! But don't forget the secret files, or we will all be doomed! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm flying through tunnels, and passageways, and now I'm putting on disguises so they won't recognise me. I've only got a few minutes left, and then I find it! Its on the receptionists desk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pretend that I'm an official who needs to sign a letter, and in the process, I slip the box under my arm.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm away! On my bike fast like lightening ! I cycle over a lake straight across the water, I'm sure I've done this many times before... My friends are cycling round the edge of the lake. Ill meet them at the other side...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-437430973385413717?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/437430973385413717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/notre-dame.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/437430973385413717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/437430973385413717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/notre-dame.html' title='notre dame'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-2183262203584117568</id><published>2011-01-08T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T11:14:08.817-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hidden porn</title><content type='html'>I am looking after a baby, its noah, and I have to feed him. I have some bottles of milk, and I'm looking for a suitable place to sit down. I can't find anywhere and he starts crying so I sit down where I am on the side of the street, and begin to attempt to feed him. The hot sun beats down on us and I am sure that it will burn his skin, so I try to hold a blaket over us while feeding also feeding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took on new allotment off this old guy, he was showing us round. it had loads of resourses, - loads of tools, loads of land, loads of indoor growing space. I felt so lucky that he had given all this to our group. I spent the day going round the allotment finding all sorts of useful stuff. The very last box of stuff I found I opened late at dusk. It had some large phonebook style books in, which looked on the outside very official data documents, yet on the cover they were called Strawberry. Inside they were like the porn encyclopedia, every detail about porn anyone would ever want to know. It showed you even how all the models cut there hair, what equiptment they use; it was a big document, and there was a whole box full of them. My little brother was here with me, helping me to go through all the allotment stuff, but I didn't show him this, I decided to keep it to myself. And now it was time to go to bed, and I took one of these documents with me to look through as it was really exciting. I was sleeping in the same room as my little brother, and I was waiting for him to go to sleep before switching a lamp on so I could look through all the pictures on this bible of porn. I didn't want him to know I was looking at it. He was restless and I think he knew anyway what I was up to, despite the fact that the cover revealed nothing and looked like the phonebook. So I had a look through anyway, and there was everything in them; the full spectrum of models and nudity and positions and techniques, and whatever. And in the morning I felt a deep disatisfaction with my life and I had to carry something back to this place, and I met conor and alys and they helped me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-2183262203584117568?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/2183262203584117568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/hidden-porn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2183262203584117568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/2183262203584117568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/hidden-porn.html' title='hidden porn'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5877817672524425532</id><published>2011-01-08T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T10:50:58.099-08:00</updated><title type='text'>samhain dream</title><content type='html'>I am in a dry desert like place. Me and S are making patterns in the sand. The patterns become real things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we are in wellow, and S is helping to clean the house, and he is chatting to J about bees. He tells J that he has bees in oxford too - lola's bees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are in the garden, we have put a mat on the ground so that we don't get muddy, we are doing contact yoga. S helps uD to do some moves, and it is like a sexual initiation .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5877817672524425532?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5877817672524425532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/samhain-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5877817672524425532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5877817672524425532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/samhain-dream.html' title='samhain dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-1868350653575977102</id><published>2011-01-08T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T10:47:21.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the Circle Dream</title><content type='html'>Travelling along Eccles rd, where arte we heading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave some valuable things with some people,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a crash on the road, and ambulances are coming to sort out the crash, but all that happens is that more and more cars pile up. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm stood in a group of onlookers witnessing this scene, and we can't believe what we a are seeing. In front of us a bloody deathly sight unfolds, and there is nothing we can do but stand back, keep our heads down, and watch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the traffic in all directions has stopped, and there are people piling out of their cars onto the street. We can hear something big approaching down the road. We think it will be some emergency service to help the terrible scene, but something else is emerging. We hear gun shots from down the street, and within a few moments gun shots are all around us, and immediately as the gun shots are heard, a wave of panic and fear runs through the crowds, in all directions. ---&lt;br /&gt;My instincts say Run, run for your life. &lt;br /&gt;  I try to go back to the place where I left my stuff with my friends before, the valuable stuff, a camera and clothes and tools; my plan is to grab them and run.  I find the friends who I left them with, but they tell me that they transferred my stuff to another friend, just round the next street. The quickest way to get there with all these crowds in the streets is to go over the building in between, so I climb over this building and in doing so I get a view over the scene. There are thousands of people on the streets, and down all the roads as far as the eye can see, cars are piled up, end to end not moving. In the centre of the chaotic scene a large circle has emerged, within which are a group of military dressed soldiers with machine guns, surrounding a large number of cars that had crashed into one another, causing this whole affair. &lt;br /&gt;Something isn't right, from this circle I hear gun shots and there are what look like dead bodies lying on the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;I finally get over to the building to meet these other people who have been looking after my valuable stuff, and I find them, but they do not have my stuff as I had hoped, and the more I ask them about it, the less of a clear answer I get, and its easy to understand why. From the natural ebb and flow of the crowds, we now find ourselves drifting closer and closer to the dreadful scene that we are all trying to get away from. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hear more gun shots, and this time it is really close. Every one around us panics, and know one knows what to do. We can't move anywhere. People are lying down, to get out  of the line of fire, and yet then they are standing up because they can't see what's going on lying down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to push there way through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends ( there are quite a lot of them here), a middle aged lady, with a powerful voice, stands up and tries to create some order, she gets everyone's attention with her voice and first tells everyone that we must trust one another. If we don't trust one another then we can't help the situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she tells us all to lie down. We must lie down to get out of the line of fire, so we do. And when we lie down we enter into another reality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its dark, almost pitch black. We can sense the presence of one another, and also are aware of the force of destruction that we have been trying so hard to avoid. What has changed is that now our minds are united, on both sides. It seems as if we, me and my friends are thinking as one organism. Also the forces of destruction have united into one force, and act as one organism. The lady with the powerful voice speaks up again. She tells everyone about the situation, because she is wise, and can see what is going on. Many people are afraid and don't know if we will survive; the forces we are up against now seem so powerful, and set on destroying us. Powerful voice lady says "look; we have become a large circle. Isn't this what we have always been asking for?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all feel like this is something that was destined to happen, and this is because, upon hearing these words, we remember that we have been here before, and if we have been here before, we must have survived, and if we survived, we must know what to do. The key thing it seems is trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a new leaders voice speaks up. Its a young mans voice and he says "we must travel together through this landscape, as one being." We look around, and our site has grown accustomed to the dark, in fact we have developed an extra sensory vision, we can now see things unknown to us before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The landscape we are in is a futuristic maze like building, with tunnels and passages, and also big areas of open space. We can sense the places we must avoid and also sense where we must go. The mans voice speaks up again. " Use your infrared site, see the trip lasers, we must avoid these" (its a bit like terminator 2) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We start moving like a snake through this landscape of the dangerous dark. We feel united and , although the forces are against us, we feel we will make it through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-1868350653575977102?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/1868350653575977102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/circle-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1868350653575977102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/1868350653575977102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/circle-dream.html' title='the Circle Dream'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-5860378735381600687</id><published>2011-01-08T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T10:44:19.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a quest</title><content type='html'>We each stand up: its part of the ritual...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I see on the floor a pattern - its an indian design... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look up and see T's wood carving tools, and some of his carvings - he had carved lots of amazing stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We each have our own carving... Mine is a figure sat on top of a building. We each had to find our own meaning in our carving... I was looking for a sign, or symbol... I saw birds and eagles - I was covered in things that didn't look like me - I had bear at my chest, and a badger over my head...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Underneath the carving, there was a building, like a church, and I had to find the key to this building. I found the key and inside was another key. I told someone that this was te big symbol for me; this was a representation of the quest in my mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We come back the next day, and while I walk in T is playing some weird and wonderful music with R and another guy- T is on percussion, and I hear crazy rhythms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we have to get to the beginning of the quest, but to do so, we need to drive quite a distance....  the first thing we need to do is to head through this landscape in the direction of the power station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When at the power station we have to pass through the gates to the power station - apparently the village has been allowed to be used as a through road right of way, for practical reasons. I drive down that way with S. We see some ufos, and now I'm with someone else - we go the wrong way - S decided to make a short cut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am late for course by 45 mins - its ok because T is also late. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When T turns up he acts as though it doesn't matter.. We have to go through the ceremonies, each person is lined up. We are running out of time. I spill something, its a box of pens, on the floor. As I'm picking them up T goes into a trance and says that its time to enter the mind set of the quest, and we are no longer allowed to raise our hands above chest height. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes us feel a bit weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am with &lt;br /&gt;A, this time she is cuddling me, not F, and its a bit weird but also nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also see C, we have a big hug, and then we are watching a video and it is trying to brain wash us and its all about sex, and I have to protect her by holding my arms over her heart .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-5860378735381600687?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/5860378735381600687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/quest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5860378735381600687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/5860378735381600687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/quest.html' title='a quest'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8034385250637739090.post-7757560925344793126</id><published>2011-01-08T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T10:21:28.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>jupiter is interested in saturn</title><content type='html'>I went round to richs flat, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down, I was going to bring him something, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It got wet from a spilt cup of tea. Also a dvd got soaked and ruined. While I was trying to pull myself together, rich gave me something, got talking, and imeadiatly said, - "everything you have been talking about has been down south, so these projects you've got interested in, when are you going down south?"&lt;br /&gt;I said "I'm not going down south, my plan is to stay here"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rich felt very threatened by this, his eyes became fearful he and said, "I've seen your deepest darkest self, and believe me, its not easy dealing with this". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the feeling of being accused of something, and then I felt like I needed to draw out a trapped spirit in me by crying... I was lying on the ground, and so was rich, and I had to get this thing out, so I started whining and force crying, and it did change things, as rich tried to comfort me by touching my feet. At first this felt nice, but then it felt a bit weird. I looked up onto the wall during this and saw a picture which had some cryptic writing on, - I started figuring out what it said, and I read "jupiter is interested in saturn" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then to my relief, some friends came round, first a family that rich know, some kids walked into the space, and then after that kristina came into the space. Kristina gave rich a hug, she said she wanted to give him a hug, but she didn't give me one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8034385250637739090-7757560925344793126?l=maxsalad.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/feeds/7757560925344793126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/jupiter-is-interested-in-saturn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7757560925344793126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8034385250637739090/posts/default/7757560925344793126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maxsalad.blogspot.com/2011/01/jupiter-is-interested-in-saturn.html' title='jupiter is interested in saturn'/><author><name>stephen watts</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14476890608566843736</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
