Lincoln of the Woods: Chapter 1

Horse.

And there he was standing in the rain – but not feeling.

And there he was standing in the woods – but not seeing.

And there he was standing by his horse – but not hearing.

Lincoln.

Lincoln of the Woods.

The wind dropped like an elephant on a zip wire.

Too Quiet said Lincoln to himself and not to himself.

‘Too Quiet.’

And then he understood, the winds had beckoned Snow.

The silence he was hearing now, was snow

Lincoln de los bosques

Lincoln de los bosques
ahora.

1 de noviembre de 2021 + Sin categoría
Lincoln Of The Woods (Extracto)
por Alyster Gynn
Extracto de mi libro ilustrado (que no se publicará pronto), "Lincoln Of The Woods".

“Con un golpe de su cuchillo contra el pedernal, enciende un fuego en la nieve. La leña es de color ámbar y brilla como la luna de arriba. Los animales se acercan y se sienten aliviados al sentir el suave y cálido aliento de Lincoln. Esperan su historia y la cadencia de sus tonterías soporíferas.

Sopa de pan y calabaza. Lincoln lo esparce. Lo da. Lo calienta. Lo ofrece. Los viajeros perdidos y la mujer sin nombre lo toman, lo huelen y lo comen, e incluso el perro callejero sonríe a través de esos mordiscos sustanciosos y cariñosos.

... y su historia continúa

Digamos que el corazón es tan grande como los océanos que vemos y los océanos que nunca hemos visto. Digamos también que la capacidad de amar es más que esas estrellas. Más de 3.657 autobuses de dos pisos. Más de 178,800 rollos de papel higiénico apilados, más largos que un trozo de cuerda y más grandes que Elvis y más grandes que Levis.

Imaginemos que el Amor es eso.

(Bosteza. Un búho ulula. El perro rasca una pulga).

… E imaginemos que el Odio, en comparación, es del tamaño de una lenteja. Imaginemos eso. (

(El fuego en la nieve crepita, escupe, susurra, brilla y baila)

Se imaginan.

Es una noche estrellada.

¡Gracias a dios! reflexiona Búho - no hay tono burro rebuznando Kumbaya esta noche "

Lincoln av Skogen

Lincoln av skogen
Lincoln av skogen

Swedish





nu. 



1 november 2021 + Okategoriserade
Lincoln of the Woods (extrakt)
av Alyster Gynn
Utdrag från min (kommer inte att publiceras snart) illustrerade bok, "Lincoln Of The Woods."

"Med ett slag av sin kniv mot flintan tänder han en eld i snön. Tändningen är bärnsten och lyser som månen ovanför. Djuren närmar sig och är lättade över att känna Lincolns mjuka, varma andetag. De väntar på hans berättelse och takten i hans sövande nonsens.

Bröd och pumpasoppa. Lincoln sprider det runt. Ger ut det. Värmer upp den. Erbjuder det. De vilsna resenärerna och kvinnan utan namn tar det, luktar på det och äter det och till och med den herrelösa hunden ler genom de rejäla, vårdande betten.

...och hans historia fortsätter

Låt oss säga att hjärtat är lika stort som haven vi ser och haven vi aldrig sett. Låt oss också säga att förmågan att älska är mer än dessa stjärnor. Fler än 3 657 dubbeldäckare. Mer än 178 800 rullar toalettpapper staplade högt, längre än ett snöre och större än Elvis och större än Levis.

Låt oss föreställa oss att kärlek är det.

(Han gäspar. En uggla tutar. Hunden kliar sig på en loppa).

…och låt oss föreställa oss att hat, i jämförelse, är storleken på en lins. Låt oss föreställa oss det.(

(Elden i snön sprakar, spottar, viskar, glöder och dansar)

De föreställer sig.

Det är en stjärnklar natt.

Tack gode Gud! begrundar Uggla – ingen tonhöjd åsna som bräker Kumbaya ikväll’

Seagulls

I am so happy listening and feeding seagulls.

The Candle Of Hope

The Candle Of Hope.

Walking through the streets of Looe, Cornwall – the Christmas lights do look beautiful this year. Despite their flashing brightness – there is a jaded, less convinced feel about them.

A response to and from the Pandemic? A ‘do as we always do’ …but with some uncertainty? A little whisper of gossip, of trepidation. This year is unlike so many other years.

Light.

I like to see things from different angles. I am not saying it helps or it gives any insight. I am saying – I like to see things from different angles.

This is the lighting of the first advent candle. The candle of Hope.

And this is what I will call this picture, to be painted before Christmas day.

The photo was taken on Monday 6th December 2021 at about 2am.From East Looe side, looking toward the bridge. Inbetween The Petrol Station and The Old Bridge Surgery.

Kilminorth Woods

Early Morning Walk, Kilminorth Woods, Looe, Cornwall.

Scapegoat

Public

Public

Refuse To Be The Scapegoat. If you are The ‘Fallguy’ a cobweb will catch you and bounce you and spin you into your own truth. Challenge and Change Will Happen. Live and Thrive in the Wilderness and come back telling Stories of Hope.

Alyster Gynn 2021

Rock That Look

I was late for Church this morning, but joined in half way through with the singing. It was quite wonderful. ‘Stir Up Sunday’. I was passed a big bowl of Christmas Pudding mixture by beautiful children. I gave it a stir and smiled a lot. I smiled and meant it with all my heart. I didn’t wear my usual Suit and Cornish tie. This time I went with a casual look. Pink Floyd T shirt, Denim jacket, Thermal long Johns, Pyjama Bottoms, Wetproof trousers and Nike trainers. It is a beautiful day. I sat on the beach front for a bit. I had a conversation with this cloud.

‘Lincoln des bois’ (extrait)





pas publié prochainement), 'Lincoln Of The Woods.'
« D'un coup de couteau contre le silex, il allume un feu dans la neige. Le petit bois est ambré et brille comme la lune au-dessus.
Les animaux s'approchent et sont soulagés de sentir le souffle doux et chaud de Lincoln. Ils attendent son histoire et la cadence de ses bêtises soporifiques.
Pain et soupe de potiron. Lincoln le répand partout. Le donne. Le réchauffe. L'offre.
Les voyageurs perdus et la femme sans nom le prennent, le sentent et le mangent et même le chien errant sourit à travers cette morsure copieuse et nourrissante.
... et son histoire continue
 Disons que le cœur est aussi grand que les océans que nous voyons et les océans que nous n'avons jamais vus. Disons aussi que la capacité d'aimer est plus que ces étoiles. Plus de 3 657 bus à impériale. Plus de 178 800 rouleaux de papier toilette empilés, plus longs qu'un bout de ficelle et plus gros qu'Elvis et plus gros que Lévis.
Imaginons que l'Amour est cela.
(Il bâille. Une chouette hulule. Le chien gratte une puce)
... et imaginons que la haine, en comparaison, a la taille d'une lentille. Imaginons cela.
(Le feu dans la neige crépite, crache, chuchote, brille et danse)
Ils imaginent.
C'est une nuit étoilée.
Dieu merci! médite Owl - pas d'âne de ton de ton qui braire Kumbaya ce soir'

Wonderful Church Day

Riverside Church, Looe in Cornwall. It’s was a wonderful Church day. …Aaaaawwww it was so lovely. The Church was packed. We sung ‘Love Divine’. The whole sermon by (Biddy Bishop) was about ‘Love.’ Off for a walk in the sunshine now.

Lincoln Of The Woods (Extract)

Extract from my (not soon to be published) illustrated book, ‘Lincoln Of The Woods.’

‘With one strike of his knife against the flint he starts a fire in the snow. The kindling is amber and glows like the moon above. The animals draw near and are relieved to feel Lincoln’s soft, warm breath. They wait for his story and the cadence of his soporific nonsense.

Bread and Pumpkin soup. Lincoln spreads it around. Gives it out. Warms it up. Offers it up. The lost travellers and the woman with no name take it, smell it and eat it and even the stray dog smiles through that hearty, nurturing bites.

…and his story continues

Let us say that the heart is as big as the oceans we see and the oceans we have never seen. Let’s say too that the capacity to love is more than those stars. More than 3,657 double decker buses. More than 178,800 rolls of toilet paper piled high, longer than a piece of string and bigger than Elvis and bigger than Levis.

Let us imagine that Love is that.

(He yawns. An Owl hoots. The dog scratches at a flea).

…and let us imagine that Hate, in comparrison, is the size of a lentil. Let’s imagine that.(

(The fire in the snow crackles, spits, whispers, glows and dances)

They imagine.

It’s a starlit night.

Thank Goodness! ponders Owl – no pitch tone donkey braying Kumbaya tonight’

Hunger Strike Finished