my life as a artist
come on sun, you can do it
Thursday 20th December 2007 11:52 PM
Sometimes the sun doesn't even get out of bed these days. It sleeps all night, and then during the day, sulks under a duvet of cloud, listening to Smith's records. It's started going to sleep halfway through the afternoon now, and I'm getting a bit worried about it. I think it might be depressed, or maybe even on drugs.
It's difficult to know what to do for the best. Suns, by their nature, always want to be the centre of attention, and are very strong willed, and once they get in a mood, they can be quite openly stubborn, and as we all know, can't be distracted by novelty.
I've talked it over with my landlord, Mark, who as a farmer should know about these things. He says that the one thing that always cheers them up is a blood sacrifice, and tomorrow, if I want, he could kill one of the beautiful white geese. I didn't feel comfortable with that, so I talked it over with the beautiful white geese, and they thought that given time, and left to its own devices, the sun would probably just snap out of it.
To my mind, Mark's idea is too pro-active, but on the other hand, I find the geese's attitude a bit laissez faire, so me, Jimmy the donkey and Molly the pony, have decided to involve the sun in a drama-therapy session tomorrow morning. We're going to do something based on 'It's a Wonderful Life', and encourage the sun to take the part of James Stewart, and, if he can find his motive, Jimmy the donkey is going to play Clarence the angel. I'm going to play the bridge and Molly the Shetland pony is going to be the river of attempted suicide and rebirth, and we might let some of the chickens be chickens.
Rather like the sun, I've been a man of small ambition this week .I've resisted the as-advertised-on-TV temptation of driving sixty miles down the M1 to the Meadowhall shopping centre, because it's a 'world of shoppertunity', and have instead been staying in bed, listening to Smith's records, and not sulking, but reflecting on the inordinate amount of birthdays coming up next week.
Apparently, on Tuesday, it's going to be the birthday of Jesus, Horus, Adonis, Bacchus, Mithras, Nimrod and Hercules. All of them were born of virgins, and in light of their subsequent achievements, it does beg the question, 'Do families need fathers?'
I expect they'll have a massive, full-on party in heaven, but if the sun's still on a downer, they're going to have to keep the noise down, otherwise there'll be hell on. Jesus is hilarious when he's had a few, so tomorrow morning, you can rest assured that me, Jimmy, Molly and the chickens are going to give it everything during our drama-therapy session. If Jimmy can genuinely discover Clarence the angel's motive, and I can stretch to being a bridge, then I honestly believe we can turn the sun around.
Comments
minka left a picture of the sun and a message which ses please under an ivy covered log... lo behold today it came out in midwales!!! solstice love to ya...
bethelhedz Marko, helly, minka, nina, isaac, sally, dux, richie & sue... plus homa & zigg
Posted by beffel , on Saturday 22nd December 2007, 3:20 PM
who was nimrod, rory? since i don't see any sign of the sun, maybe you can enlighten me
Posted by hippy out of the horn , on Saturday 22nd December 2007, 6:48 AM
the sun isn't yellow, it's a chicken
Posted by bob , on Friday 21st December 2007, 8:15 PM
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