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Flickr Photos

Olive Cafe Menu

Posted: July 18th, 2008, 9:41am BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

including helium
Grilled Helium

Posted: July 18th, 2008, 9:41am BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

Grilled Helium Cheese. Eat it and speak in a very high voice.
Charity Dish at Carluccio's

Posted: July 18th, 2008, 9:41am BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

donations to to www.aahuk.org
Box, Bench, Glasses

Posted: July 18th, 2008, 9:40am BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

a natural collision of sundry park objects

Blog of Funk

Another Month, Another Mayhem

Posted: July 18th, 2008, 9:07am BST

It's the full moon once again, for those of you are interested, and equally for those of you who don't notice these things, or who pay as much attention to them as you would the shape of any particular cloud or the reflection of an attractive body in a pavement puddle. Oh come on, don't say you weren't looking up whilst looking down.

Being observant isn't the same as being suggestible, obviously, but if you can bring both of these qualities to bear at the same instant then you're really onto something. Those "random" synaptic blasts come up with the craziest shit, like putting a lighter-than-air inert gas on the menu of a NoHo café. Grilled helium cheese, eh, who'd have thunk it?

John Cleese Podcast

John Cleese Podcast #32: The Scientist at Work

Posted: July 17th, 2008, 11:50am BST

Enclosure: [download]

Delivered to you from a laboratory deep in the heart of Northamptonshire, England, a short lecture on God.

Blog of Funk

Alternative Accident

Posted: July 14th, 2008, 6:28am BST

Yesterday, GGF and I enjoyed a pleasant day on the south bank of the Thames. We cycled down took in a couple of art exhibitions, we saw a capoeira performance, we ate chocolate cake and drank black coffee whilst listening to people read out architectural treatises from inside a clear plastic inflatable bubble.

Then we cycled into the west end, ate Japanese food at Misato in Wardour Street, sat in the sun for while. We bought tickets for Persepolis, that wonderful animated film by Marjane Satrapy and when we came out, after all that, we were pretty mellow.

On the way down to the Thames we'd been less mellow. GGF had been a little bit annoyed that I was zooming ahead in my confident London cyclist's manner, and she called out, so we had stopped and sat on a cold stone wall and chatted until we got to the bottom of it. She was right - we were cycling together, I could afford to slow down, so I did. In fact, I took this as a sign for the day - slow down. I don't always feel the need to do this, but I really wanted to have a mellow day, so I figured the cold arse was worth it.

On our way back, we headed up to Holborn and positioned ourselves at the front of the traffic queue diagonally opposite Central St Martin's Theatre, waiting for the lights to change. The cars had thinned out as the evening drew in. London lights have all been phased to allow plenty of time for pedestrians to cross the wide thoroughfares, and we were patiently waiting for the green light, with another cyclist to our right after the cars crossing from the right, next to the Kingsway Underpass had ceased.

The lights changed, and the cyclist beside us moved off, so, still in not-so-fast mode, I started to move off after him before the cars started to hem us in. Something wasn't right, I heard GGF's shout of alarm, heard a loud car horn, looked up to see a black Ford practically on top of my front wheel, and a black face cursing me through the windscreen. I didn't catch it all, just the anger.

Assessing the situation, I heard someone say, "The light is green!"

"The light is green!" I sputtered, "You shot a red light!"

"No I didn't fucking shoot a red light!" he yelled, and drove off.

The lights were still green. I turned to see GGF's concerned face, indicated we should cross. We did, and I pulled up shortly afterwards, gave her a hug.

"He was crazy!" she said, "the light was green!" "Yes, the light was green," I said, "But I am OK, and I could have died, so, I am really very happy."

A little later on, I realised my bike chain needed some manual adjustment after the abrupt stop I'd made, and so we stopped again. I was using a chocolate wrapper to try to prevent oil getting all over my hands, and a guy walked up to me and, with a slightly wacked out but kind smile, said, "Do you want to use these?" and offered me a bunch of clean tissues which I gratefully accepted.

In another universe, the man offered me the tissues as I went to cross the lights, distracting me for a second and slowing me down. The cyclist to my right was killed, we both witnessed his awful death, gave statements to the police, and evidence at the trial. In another, the car driver saw me too late, and veering out of control, he critically injured the driver of another car and paralysed a pedestrian, himself suffering only whiplash injuries. Later the press expressed outrage at the leniency of his punishment.

In another, we never healed our argument, and I never slowed down. The car hit my front wheel, I was injured, I'm still in intensive care, fighting for my life. In yet another, he didn't brake, I didn't brake, and I went under the car. I'm now lying cold in a mortuary prior to being prepared for my funeral, my loved ones are grieving, and somewhere else the wacked out man still has a bunch of clean tissues in his pocket.
The Nokia Software Challenge

Posted: July 7th, 2008, 5:56am BST

I woke up thirty minutes ago at 5am. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of thinking something very precise and clear. This time, it was how to go about winning a competition in which I am no expert. I was thinking, well at least my beginning point is the profound knowledge of my ignorance.

The competition was a strange one. I found myself in an executive reality-show scenario where the group of winners, suited and booted, young-ish uber-earnest types - presumably heat winners - were being given their final challenge, and this was to write the software which Nokia should have included in their smart phones.

"That's right," said our dapper host, "all the functions which we all know should be in there..." - and here's where my freshly awoken mind erased all the details which might be really useful to recall, as I cannot now remember any of the detailed specifications which so impressed these candidates, but of course, they were wonderfully precise and very useful.

Cut to a future scene. Deek sits in the wooden-framed window seat of his country house, surveying green manicured lawns stretching into misty woodland and lakes beyond.

"So, is it true?" asks a curious voice off camera, "you literally dreamed up the groundbreaking suite of mobile software which made you your fortune, and coded the entire thing within a month?"

"Just like the man said..."

Except in the dream, I knew that I had none of the skills needed to construct the software, so for all my wit and understanding, I was going to have to rely on my connections, my ability to take shortcuts, and crucially, to persuade others to aid the cause of rejuvenating the Nokia smartphone capabilities. Quite what I was doing in this challenge surprised me not however, since many times in this life I have found myself in the position of having to take on tasks for which I have no adequate preparation, or even prior intention, so this kind of thing is grist to the mill.

In real life, before bed I had spent some time setting up my Nokia N95 email client, so it was easy to spot the origins of this odd dream. What interests me now that I am awake is how in the dream I quickly cast aside any pretense of having powers beyond my actual experience, and instead, concentrated on devising a strategy that would allow me to have a chance of winning without having to actually take on an impossibly steep learning curve.

As the dream dissipated into my sudden and complete awakening, I was thinking that the task was extremely likely to be completely and utterly beyond me, and wondering whether I should just relax and enjoy the month which I was supposedly about to dedicate to the struggle for mobile code supremacy. Enjoy it, surf the effort, and look to change the game into one I could win.

Now that feels like good really advice.

Flickr Photos

21/06/2008

Posted: July 7th, 2008, 12:15am BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
A Well Done Rump Steak with Mustard

Posted: July 4th, 2008, 4:45pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Odeon, Holloway Road

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:40pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Odeon, Holloway Road

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:40pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Odeon, Holloway Road

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:40pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Hip Cameron

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:40pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Highgate Trees

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:40pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Fallen Icecream

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:40pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

I really like this shot of my summer street
Byam Shaw Art

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

Kylie McManus
Byam Shaw Art

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

Kylie McManus
Stereo Image

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Highgate Fungus

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Highgate Fungus

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Highgate Woods

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Highgate Woods

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:39pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Highgate Woods

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:38pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Psycho Rapist Mark Crook

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:38pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Islington Street Headline

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:38pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Liverpool Road Roses

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:38pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Liverpool Road Roses

Posted: July 2nd, 2008, 1:38pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

Podcast Nation

Podcasting In China

Posted: July 1st, 2008, 10:22am BST

I saw this very interesting article at Podcasting News ...

As mainstream media promotes itself to new heights (depths?) over the upcoming summer Olympic Games in Beijing, and with the International Olympic Committee raising hackles with its severe restrictions on blogging, podcasting and new media, it seemed like a good time to look at citizen media efforts coming from China itself. This week’s edition of the Beijing Review, an english-language publication about China, has an article about the growth in the use and popularity of podcasts in China.

The article talks about the proliferation of blogs and bloggers in the country. They cite statistics from November 2007 that “one of every 30 Chinese citizens or [one in] four netizens was writing his or her own Web log.”

Indeed, a flurry of blog, video and podcast activity by citizen-journalists in China cropped up in the aftermath of the devastating May 2008 earthquake in Sichuan province. Blog, video, and podcast entries have progressed over the past six weeks from posting information about the disaster, to using these new media for inspiring and coordinating disaster relief efforts.

The article continues,

“Podcasting, which emerged at the end of 2004 in China with the launch of the first site in this regard, is also gaining popularity at a speed faster than that of any other Web service. According to official statistics, there were more than 200 podcasting sites in China in 2006, registering more than 10 million podcasters and having a viewership of 76 million. A lot of emergencies, news and gossips [sic] have been recorded live and made known to the public by home videos posted on the Internet. Prominent examples in recent years include those about the infidelity of a famous TV sport anchorman, which was brought to light by his wife at a public gathering, and a pet cat being tortured by a cruel man.

“Due to the large number of users and wide coverage, blogs and podcasts have also become major outlets of public opinion. Many bloggers and podcasters use their posts to discuss public affairs, raise suggestions and air complaints. At the same time, a growing number of officials have opened blogs to do real-time communication with the public, which is widely hailed as a new way of government transparency.”

The Beijing Review article says that most blogs and podcasts created and consumed in China, however, tend more toward entertainment than public opinion, government transparency, or citizen reporting of local news as in the Sichuan earthquake.

Blog of Funk

BBC Spinal Tap

Posted: July 1st, 2008, 7:48am BST

No matter how esteemed your corporation or your institution, there is always some wag who will find a way to usurp the carefully manicured lawn of your public image with a comedy molehill.

Whilst catching up on the epic Murray v Gasquet Wimbledon tennis battle, I noticed this morning that the embedded BBC news player goes, just like Nigel Tufnel's Spinal Tap amplifiers, up to eleven.

Well done BBC - my commendation for this elegant means of achieving superior audio quality. It is comforting to know that whenever I want that extra push over the cliff top, the BBC player (unlike all the others) can provide it.

John Cleese Podcast

John Cleese Podcast #31

Posted: June 30th, 2008, 11:07pm BST

Enclosure: [download]

All in all one would hope never to be caught up in this situation. John becomes the coachtrip courier from hell.

FUNK: we make nice stuff happen

June Bugs

Posted: June 30th, 2008, 8:00pm BST

We've been hot on the heels of some evil spam hackers across all our Wordpress sites recently. Some of them were not compromised, only a couple were and no users passwords were stolen.

Now we've upgraded to 2.5.1 we should be ok for while.

UKPA: UK Podcasters Association

NCFE Establishes GCSE Podcasting

Fetched: June 30th, 2008, 5:53am BST

The UK national awarding body, the NCFE has established a school grade in podcasting which is to sit alongside the many vocational awards in the Arts, media and publishing sector. From the Times: The UK’s first qualification in podcasting, in which pupils will learn how to make audio and video broadcasts available ...

Dean Whitbread: Poetry

Tobacco and Shit

Posted: June 24th, 2008, 9:28am BST by Dean Whitbread

Her elbows smell of tobacco
and her shit smells of burnt toast
She's dead, but in my dreams
she's warm and real, no ghost
She dresses up for going out,
and down for going in
And spits out all the little words:
"Alright?" "ok?" "how you been?"

She sits in sunlight shaving off
the hardest parts which grow
Removing and refining,
a buffer for the ego
Every day another
opportunity for sleep
Every night another dream,
Slept calmly, slept deep.

Dean Whitbread

Creativity and Business: Priceless

Posted: June 23rd, 2008, 8:27am BST

Creativity is inherently revolutionary. Business is inherently exploitative.Is creativity inherently anti-business?

These thoughts have been rolling around my mind like a marble in a sweet jar for some time now, as I ponder my own paths in creativity and in business.

Business requires predictability, results and judges by the balance sheet. It demands efficiency, proof and reports. Business exploits ideas for profit. Business people have a platform, a position, and a salary. Creatives on the other hand have a trajectory, a vocation and a journey. Creativity generates ideas, celebrates strangeness, and messes with your head. Business makes money, maintains the market and will sell you whatever you will buy. Creativity wastes time, disrupts the market, and even if you can own it, it's probably worthless.

The art business is the most conflicted in the world.

Creative people alight upon something new and invest it with form and meaning, showing the way forward and lighting the path. Business people seek financial gain, and will gladly steal the patent for the lighting system.

Not being able to sell your idea means nothing to the truly creative person. Ignoring trends is essential if you are to follow the thread of your inspiration, wherever it might lead, even to your personal extinction - although that is not essential. Creativity reinvents itself just by continuing - change is its only constant. Creativity demands the pointless. Blind alleys are the stuff of life. Purpose is a necessary sacrifice along the path of enlightenment. The search for enlightenment is packaged and sold as weekend breaks in the picturesque Cotswolds, £400 per person including organic meals.

Thanks to television, radio and the internet, there is now little left of undivided attention, lingering examination, or even careful re-reading. All is subservient to the immediately useful, the entertaining or the alarmist. The timelines speed past like landscapes viewed from a train, remote, unvisited, unless robot search alert takes you back there. The windows of attention are shrinking as we stare more and more at screens, and less and less at the faces of individuals.
"Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?" - T. S. Eliot

"Finding a businessman interested in the Arts is like finding chicken shit in your chicken salad" - Alice Neel

Blog of Funk

Accidental Realisations Are More Fun

Posted: June 22nd, 2008, 10:48pm BST

It was 23rd April, 2008, at quarter past three in the afternoon, in the heart of the Troodos mountains that I spouted accidental insight which made me stop in my tracks.

I can't really explain it except to say I didn't mean to say anything at all profound. But, I realised at once that I really was being shown something that I ought to listen to, despite the fact it had come from my own mouth, and since returning, I've been working steadily on preparing my way forward.

deek deekster: innit

Whatever it was I said before, don’t believe it

Posted: June 22nd, 2008, 8:00pm BST by deek

Enclosure: [download]

Driving in the Troodos mountains, Cyprus, with GGF, breathing clean, pine-scented air, soaked in mediterranean sun, I saw tree-lined valleys falling away before us into a heat-haze distance, and instantly asked that we stop and take in the view. I felt the unmistakable urge to listen to what this place might have to say. I took a few pictures, and then I started to make a video.

I didn’t prepare this little sermon on the mount - it was spontaneous. Speaking mirthfully of the truth, I was taken by surprise when the truth was actually revealed to me.

As a result of making this video, and being so simply reminded about what matters, since returning from Cyprus at the end of April I have completely and systematically revised my work methods and returned to some long-held but temporarily obscured aims. I’m still not 100% certain of how it happened, but I am bloody glad that it did. It won’t show for a few months yet, but the pieces are now in place, and I am happy to post this video to sort of explain why I have changed, if not quite how.

Wish me luck, I might just need it.

Blog of Funk

Disillusionment

Posted: June 22nd, 2008, 12:41pm BST

The state of disillusionment is a frequently unhappy one, but disillusionment itself we should really welcome, as the freeing of oneself from falsehoods or wrong thinking is a necessary part of evolution, without which we are entrapped.

Just thought I'd mention it.
Simple

Posted: June 20th, 2008, 5:14pm BST

Arnold Schoenberg the composer defined the creative process as "contracting into abundance".

Innit.

UKPA: UK Podcasters Association

Comments, Please

Fetched: June 20th, 2008, 9:23am BST

Independent podcasters: the Guardian are holding an in-house "festival" called Fuure of Journalism - yesterday's topic was audio on the web. Your thoughts on this Guardian discussion on podcasting are welcome: http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/digitalcontent/2008/06/future_of_journalism_internet.html

Blog of Funk

Funkpod Thirty Four

Posted: June 18th, 2008, 7:08pm BST

This could be the last Pod of Funk emanating from Funk Towers. Flat is back on the market, and tomorrow Men arrive to take Things away.

Soon I will follow things, innit?

Pod of Funk

Pod of Funk Number Thirty Four

Posted: June 18th, 2008, 3:45pm BST

Enclosure: [download | play]

Doing things in twos, Deek Deekster arrives at the full moon in time for the midsummer solstice, with a fat heap of bass-heavy, groove-defined tunes, from hip hop to drum 'n' bass, latin funk to electro, motorcycle engine to military, in an hour of eclectic ear amusement which you should turn up loud in order to stimulate your body to move itself about in erotic and sexually provocative ways. Contains videobloggers.

Funkpod Thirty Four: Midsummer Moon

Duration: 59:30

Funkpod #34 tracks:
Spoonbill - "2 Spoons"
Lotek - "Control Alt Delete"
Presto - "Bring It Live"
Maldy, Opi & Jason, Los Vegas - "Mi Victima"
Presto - "Space Walk"
Spoonbill - "Low Easy"
Chuck Jonkey - "Fire Ants"
Chuck Jonkey - "Hog Heaven"
Tisha - "Finally Here"
DJ Clart - "So Selfish"
US Air Force Band of Liberty - "on Silver Wings"

Check back for full track listing with links and details.

Subscribe to the RSS feed http://feeds.feedburner.com/PodOfFunk here.

Pod of Funk is produced and presented by Deek Deekster. Many thanks to IODA Promonet, Phreadz People (who contributed some great new bumpers - thanks!).

All tracks are "Pod of Funk Safe"®.

Pod of Funk © Deek Deekster 2008 My Eclectic Final Five Minutes Productions

Email: deek [dot] deekster [at] gmail [dot] com

Blog of Funk

Annie's Horses

Posted: June 17th, 2008, 5:36am BST

There are certain things I know. One of them is when I have gone far enough down a certain path and must turn back. Responding to this is difficult only when people are following and the path is narrow. In which case, I might have to leave the path entirely in order to get back to where I need to be going without treading on people's toes.

Another is when I should stand up to an accuser. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself not to give a flying fuck, no matter how intrusive, misguided or hateful the words, and to remember that whatever it is that weighs them down need not be any major concern of mine, however bad I might be already feeling about my own sins, past or present, real or imaginary, connected to them or not. Another one is that sometimes, no matter how innocent you actually are, or whether you meant to do harm, you should simply apologise if harm was the outcome.

I recall how focused I was when I was at art college, and the day-to-day glorious absorption of the time. Ideas and techniques flowed freely and unjealously from person to person, space to space, evenings and mornings were communal experiences of discovery, books were passed around like joints, and this shared experience created a living fabric of experimentation and expression. In this environment I thrived, learning, tasting and testing new things, passing on as much as I came to know. The majority of that learning was gained from my peers, as one particularly bright and sensible tutor, Norman Brown, pointed out one fine, sunlit morning, factory glass reflecting the fringe of his words with his scraggly rollup cigarette, inspiring me with his unabashed honesty.

From a starting point of clumsy social skills but quick intelligence, making many false starts I grew in confidence while at Middlesex, and as I did so, within a term or two lost an almighty dose of the ruinous self-doubt which had hitherto prevented me from expanding my heart, my mind and my prospects. For the first time in my life I was able to simply be, for good and bad, and my spontaneous self emerged blinking and mostly smiling. I started to glow with the red-orange of the sodium streetlights, which I had spent the preceding years oil painting into my semi-urban night landscapes.

One September day it was my fellow housemate Graham Gussin's birthday, and I took it into my head to create a large birthday card for him in primary colours. Although he hardly used his allocated workspace except to meet tutors and discuss earnestly with them the meaning of meaning and the poetry of poetry, sharing trendy brown licorice-flavoured cigarette papers, he was in college that day, and in my extravagant and affectionate way I wanted to amuse him and celebrate. I took an A3 piece of paper and some water-based acrylic paints to his space, and proceeded to paint there, in a deliberately naive and supposedly comic fashion a horse - a very bad horse - upon which I wrote, "A GeeGee for G.G." Ha ha ha. Satisfied with my tribute, I grabbed a coffee, and returned to my more serious endeavours in my own space a thirty or so yards away.

Twenty minutes later I became aware that Annie, one of the cute art students in my year, was upset. She was being comforted as she sat sobbing, bright, visible tears dripping off her nose, splashing onto the paint-spattered concrete. What was up, I asked her female friend, and to my surprise got nothing but a filthy look.

Perturbed I ventured nearer and discovered that Annie had interpreted my entire horse-painting episode as direct mockery, an out-of-the-blue, unwarranted personal attack upon her personally. The fact that I didn't even see that she was there as I gaily painted my birthday card was lost upon her. I had only vaguely noticed that she had been painting horses for the past few weeks, inspired by Chagall. I did not know how insecure pursuing her muse had made her feel over the preceding months, surrounded by clever, intellectual, Guardian-reading students who had sneered at her simple representationalism - I wasn't one of them. She didn't figure in my scene, I barely knew her, except to say hi, and admire her curves.

I really was aghast. Did she really think I was singling her out for some kind of mocking plagiarism? What kind of person would I have to be to be able to enact such an elaborate stunt? She was of course the centre of her own universe, but who was I to know how low she had fallen, crouched into her defensive posture?

I stumbled through my explanation, which, sincerely given, did much to reassure her. Annie was a good-natured girl, and we made up easily, with her laughing at herself. I was glad of it and always had a soft spot for her afterwards.

To be so misinterpreted that day has stuck with me ever since. I can still remember the sick feeling of guilt which fell upon me like a winter coat. When it has happened since, I remember Annie and her quick kindness, she who taught me the lesson of forgiveness for imagined slights, and showed me how blind one can be to other people's sensitivities, especially when on some single-minded mission which has no reference or relevance to them.

But the injustice of being singled out for having done wrong when no wrong has been done has always sat badly with me, and even though the lesson of apologising even though the mistake was made elsewhere is a valuable one, kept on the shelf alongside the twin tomes, "Fuck It" and "Fuck Off", sometimes I'm still torn between which pages to turn, and even whether to read the book, or simply, like a Paris surrealist, to throw it, aiming for the head.

deek deekster: innit

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Pompidou, Pompidon’t

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 11:08pm BST by deek

Enclosure: [download]

A muse in front of the Paris temple of modern art, the Centre Pompidou, on being an artist, or not.

Flickr Photos

Basilica of the Sacré Cœur

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:27pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Right Way Up

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:27pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

I sat on the bench and looked up
St Pierre

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:27pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
St Pierre

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:27pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
St Pierre

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:27pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
St Pierre

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:27pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Place Émile Goudeau

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:26pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Place Émile Goudeau

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:26pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Place Émile Goudeau

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:26pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Place Émile Goudeau

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:26pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Place Émile Goudeau

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:26pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:
Place Émile Goudeau

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:26pm BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

Blog of Funk

Pâtisserie, Boulangerie, Charcuterie

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 1:10pm BST

Went to Paris this week - it was just like Paris - large, busy, bourgeois and full of itself. I had a day of business, an evening of socialising, a morning of planning, followed by an afternoon of leisure. Rescued from the rush by my evening train, I took myself off to Montmartre, climbing up La Butte from Pigalle, in the heat, carrying a none-too-light bag containing a change of clothes and my laptop.

I found myself in Place Émile Goudeau, a blessed space surrounded by tourists and film crews and sun. I sat and breathed in this shadowed pause, letting the city sink in to my old London bones, before climbing steadily up through the tourist trap which surrounds the Basilica of the Sacré Cœur.

I found myself in the courtyard of the church of St Pierre - St Peter, the rock upon which all churches stand; after a moment's hesitation, I entered the building and immediately felt very much at ease.

I entered a stone building almost 1,000 years old, the quiet relative of the gaudy Basilica around the corner. In contrast to the summer heat, over-priced drinks and busy cash registers outside, it was deep, cool and peaceful.

I walked once around the church, then sat on a left pew with space all around me. Not much to see, really, except ancient stonework, and modern stained glass. Off the nave, there was a library, through a large, impressive door, which after five minutes opened up suddenly at normal volume, a small child and a middle-aged man being greeted with love by the librarian, a grey-haired woman with a bright face.

A few visitors walked respectfully and slowly down the aisles, three young asian tourists making use of the wooden benches near the altar to repack their rucksacks and sort out their packed lunches. Two elderly women were a little in front of me and to my right, in a bubble of their own, one of them grasping the other's shoulder and speaking directly and precisely into her ear, ceaselessly whispering earnest words of comfort while the other listened and mourned. It was a touching scene, a truly valuable function of religion, played out in churches since time immemorial.

The noises abated, except for the murmur of solace ahead of me. I considered praying, remembering the last time I had entered a church seeking guidance and been promptly given it. This time, with no specific need in mind, I tried to dismiss my selfish desires and ask for guidance. Shutting my eyes, I found it difficult at first to remove myself from my focused concerns, so I just continued to wait, and to stay calm, to contemplate, and to listen, which was easy in the space. I felt unrushed, and in no need of reply, just wondering if there was anything I needed to know. My mind slowly quietened. It was as restful as lapping waves on the seashore.

I stayed in the church for thirty minutes or so, and eventually I did notice something emerging from my thoughts which if not a blazoned message, was certainly something I needed to consider carefully, attached to a subject which has been consuming me of late.

I left more content than I had entered, thankful and slightly surprised, wondering how I was going to explain my insight to other people, and realising it really didn't matter.

Flickr Photos

View from Nostalgie

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:22am BST

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View from Nostalgie + Humans

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:22am BST

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spot the humans
Nostalgie Poster

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:22am BST

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Bejasus, he's happy
Cafe near Nostalgie

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:22am BST

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Cafe near Nostalgie

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:21am BST

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Nostalgie Sign

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:21am BST

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I was so tempted to move the flexible letters around
Christophe and Martine's Old but Gold Cooker

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:21am BST

deekdeekster posted a photo:

a lovely story, a found cooker which wasn't won in a raffle
Christophe Delire in the kitchen

Posted: June 13th, 2008, 7:21am BST

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Fountain Worth at Least 8 Quid

Posted: June 11th, 2008, 5:24pm BST

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... because I thought I was uploading via Pompidou Centre WiFi but it was actually 3.5G. Bugger! Huge data roaming charge to follow...
Hotel Eldorado

Posted: June 11th, 2008, 11:07am BST

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Bunny Ongles - Nail

Posted: June 11th, 2008, 11:07am BST

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Christophe Delire

Posted: June 11th, 2008, 11:07am BST

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Let Petit Poucet

Posted: June 11th, 2008, 11:04am BST

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Nice bar Place de Clichy, Free WiFi
Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:34am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:33am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:33am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:33am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:33am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:33am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:33am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:32am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:32am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:32am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:32am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:32am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:32am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:31am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:31am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:31am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:31am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:30am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:30am BST

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Benchcam

Posted: June 9th, 2008, 10:30am BST

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