Fogwalking

I feel I should be commenting/posting more here but I'm finding it difficult to keep in touch with many people. I want to just disappear a lot of the time now. Sometimes that feeling moves towards suicidal thoughts. More often it's a fantasy of walking out of the world, at least for a bit. Finding a scrap of wood that seems deeper than it should be, and following the path all the way in. Or watching a cloud-shadow move across the grass and stepping into it, as if it could sweep me somewhere else. Or finding a rickety door in a garden fence that doesn't lead into a garden at all. I should do something with the images.

Pottering through a few Studio Ghibli films at the mo. I enjoyed Kiki's Delivery Service, even if the love interest looks like Where's Wally (I might have shouted Drop him a few times).. I read Machen's The London Adventure last night - bought it recently as a well-done gift for getting the Harrison essay in. It's an odd little gem. Machen talks about the book he wanted to write - which would have been psychogeography before its time, I guess - but never gets round to it. Instead he happily rambles on about inconclusive poltergeist cases, random coin-collections washed up on a beach, story ideas he never fleshed out, encounters with Freemasons who think he's one of them. I love its digressions. The edition I've got is from 1928. Machen was still alive, and though he claims his story-telling days are done, he hadn't yet written N.

A couple of links:

This  blog is excellent if like me you like old shop facades and ghost signs. Meanwhile, over on Wormwoodiana Mark Valentine discusses the postcards Thirties wireless enthusiasts used to exchange with each other.  I'd like a few myself!