At the bridge of the failed painter, I stoop and check the sagging timbers before placing one foot, then the other, on this sorry decrepitude. It cracks and pops like a first fleet ship, but the sounds are not ominous; more the rattled wheezing of an invalid friend. I proceed with care,sucking the thumb pricked on its splintery balustrade. Ahead, lies the gate and welltrod path and, branching like spider veins, the merest hints of tracks―overgrown, leading to a wilderness filled with possibilities. I stand and consider. Buttoning my duffel coat—a veteran of the moth wars, I step off the path, and into the weeds.
©L.M.Noonan



ballardian blues

J.G. Ballard's death--April 19th; escaped my notice...so inwardly focused, so selfishly embroiled in the machinations of my personal world have I been.
Science fiction has been my hidey hole, my refuge since primary school. 
I cut my teeth on John Wyndam, devoured anything by Philip K Dick and have an entire shelve in my sci fi library devoted to the works of Brian Aldiss.
'The Drowned World' remains my favourite Ballard novel.
Did you know that  the adjective Ballardian .– in the Collins English Dictionary is 1: of James Graham Ballard (1930-2009), the British novelist, or his works. and 2: resembling or suggestive of the conditions described in Ballard's novels and stories, esp dystopian modernity, bleak man-made landscapes and the psychological effects of technological, social or environmental developments.
For those who'd like to read more
rip_jgb3

1 comments:

Colette Amelia said...

so what have you been doing to pass away the while? Good to hear and see you!

5 May 2009 2:18 AM

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