When winds shift, weather report



Bethan’s living room, (55.8641258, -4.2884129)                  6°C                 14:26



This weather report is reporting now

Reporting live.



So a colossal of men & buildings

But women and images



Edie wants hands to make summat

With little metal men



Out of all the minute organs emerging

from the floor – like holes

intact steady flat bending

A large threatening rabbit whispers to his comrades –



He is calling things into being

He is calling us into existence

Summoning and spelling



Reporting now

Reporting loud

Repeating occurrences



This realising – I haven’t seen it like this before

Pulling from & pulling out of…

Barnaby and Edie are giggling

Mabel is pulling a line

*it is a hollow shape*

But the line emerges a trace

It is a creature

He has a wife and kids

To me over here upside down wrong direction, he is telling his wife he’s sorry for last night’s row

This is the first person I met over here



Garden of earthly delights unearthly unsolid

It is oceanic first

And became land later,

We’ll get to that.



Realming a garden

Foresting a garden



Gardens are wild beats – mass snares – habitual magic –

that with the right moments, conditions, recognition (or cognition)

can transport you otherwise



Otherwise: it is

Otherwise: it is always distant



Florence – I wonder if she brought Blake with her – is she looking for more fragments – hers are all used up



“Weatherman here:



I travelled today



But just let me tell you, it was not only my travelling and

this garden has not been stagnant for long”



in fact there is more travelling in this room here now, real.time as always



A story is coming imposing itself

It emerges before but it’ll be recounted in a second, I heard.

That’s a forecast, the wind tells me these things



            The space is being prepared – for a landing



Landing!



Myth from India and myth from Ireland

Bethan tells us – sit down sit down settle now



Magic horses pissing and filling up the lake



Fish blew in land in 1800s

Storm Euan happenings again again



In Loch (Lough) Neagh Ney Nay – NEIGH!



Euan came back



                        These are stories they come again and again



Lay man Secular man

He lived in Aviemore    
                               

    <As your weatherman, you can expect that I’ve been there and yes yes I have – it was cold, terrible conditions, lovely place.>


He saw a horse in a field and it glowed

The horse glowed

He saw magic

Magic horse, magic field, magic time, magic eyes ?



A landing of magic in Aviemore.



Back to neagh that wasn’t neagh that was neigh

Image can be story

In this one,

here, there are kings and sons

suns

and stuff

a pre-christian God…

Bethan doesn’t know how he offended a god but he did so

so the horses were killed

            Magic well

            Horse

            Swell

The world overflowed

The world became Loch neigh

A daughter drowned, she was buried on the shore.

Another daughter became a mermaid and her dog an otter

She sang, her song reverberated through and a monk came, he heard it, I’m hearing it.



Neagh, neigh, magic horse,

NEIGH!

Magic tales:

Trails, pails, snails, Thales, whales, and Gaels.

Fish gales, marsh quails, inhale, exhale,

assail, unveil.



In this world, an overflowing –

Such worlds do overflow



Capstone atop wells, capstones sign to me.



Daphne and Apollo

Eochu and the Loch



They arise from the sun & dawn



Tea break. Weather report:



We’re dancing on the shore

We’re tracing moments of the tale

We’re landing in another realm,

Another time, another rhyme

Another world



Florence has a folk story from Wales

The story of Gelert the dog.



A prince & his dog



            We’re telling stories now



They are like each other’s protectors



War breaks out, a baby needs protecting.



The prince told his dog his commands

Protect the baby

But he returns to his dog

Drenched in blood

Dead dog

Only it was soldiers that he killed, not the baby



Ancient time, ancient rhyme



A voice came down the chimney,

Telling a woman to eat her pets

So she does.



These are the winds telling me stories

Remains of stories

Memories of a storyteller.



Big eggs



The minutes matter



            She gave birth because

            She was cursed

She fucked a bull in a wooden bowl. Handmade



These stories make eyes flutter make symbols appear



-we can only guess how – we can only guess why.



What does Edie see

What does Lucy see



Lucy says she’s thinking about other things





Horses in my dreams

Like waves like the sea

They pull out of here

They pull, they are free

I have pulled my self clear

Pull stretch lands apart

Mabel has blue hands she’s been pulling

Wind pulls wind shifts

Slow horse

Pale horse

Horse aflight

Horse alight

It’s windy our here

It’s likely going to get cold tonight



Snow can be expected when you least expect it



Bethan played it for me

Horses in my dreams



Rivers out of river

Out of horses out of fish.



This horse – the horse created in dust – has been here for generations



They abit they’re galaxies

Stars and moons

That pull the sea, pull the ocean,

Make the tides

This horse tells me the weather. He is a source. He is how we forecast.



Pour water on your feet



Breathe out your mouth



Get out of breath



And you’ll be there too



Transportation portation

Portal cation

Instant morph shift

Create a bedland,

Emerge a bedland



These are instructions of the horse



We’ve been on land for a while now


©GeorgieDuBoulay
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