Letter From Arcadia
There Be Dragons DP The clocks have long gone here, strictly living by the sun and the moon. The autumn fair threatening to be an autumn foul, after the frost the flood, deluge after deluge. Whilst you keep bodies in the freezer heavy rain here turns the ponds to leaf soup, natural acid [...]
Andrews of Arcadia – November Exhibition
6 November 2008 // Arcadia //Caught By...
ladies and gentlemen my new website selling vintage fishing tackle for the soul: www.andrewsofarcadia.com has been online for exactly a month and has had a great response with visitors from uxbridge road to uruguay. to mark making it this far i am staging an exhibition of new stock or november which includes a host of [...]
Letter from Arcadia
ja clocks went dark on a squint-eyed moon. garlic and silver onion bulbs purchased at the autumn fair not for a song but an aria, from dordogne dog-track onion sellers, winter onions like white-chocolate pop-ups, russian eyeballs to dib in straw beds next first quarter, betjeman’s cupolas, the purple garlic the colour of a breton [...]
Letters From Arcadia
DP The big moon came up here, too. It rose from behind the Betjeman church tower and lastly over the Heath, a real Bram Stoker pudding, the owl screeching at noon and the church bells ringing as if by themselves. The leaves in the trees catching fire everywhere and the banks of No 2 Pond [...]
Letters From Arcadia
Stab In The Dark ja i had the winter mix weighed out, the solstice brew uncorked. migrating carp & the winkle-pickers flown in on a delivery of east winds, birdman tarred & feathered against the gales. even had the roasted chestnuts on the stove and the cold-times water chosen for the sign that points me [...]
Letters From Arcadia
Birdman Spotted Again DP There he was again in the oak wood above Moors Pond, the Birdman of La Brisardiere, having taken the wrong turning along the Seine and come up in an old bomb crater in the Kent countryside. From there he took the Hop Pickers path he knew from ancient memory until he [...]
Letters From Arcadia
‘Carp Crunch Hits French Banks’ ja fags for the colonel for rounding up the gang, the great drain robbers of frensham still in their jail stripes. you nabbed the leader and stole the show. your eyes lit up this time, not the dog’s. i must try the seance rig myself, going to the seine with [...]
Letters From Arcadia
‘Flood Of Perch At Freezy Water’ DP Whilst you were finding your gypsy feet again on the banks of the Seine and catching lean carp as supposed to the Jerrybags that inhabit the pits in the back garden of the Palace of Versailles, I was out for the first trip of the autumn. Blue black [...]
Letters From Arcadia
‘Grape-Shot Of Wrath’ ja thanks for your retro-blaster, the diamond dogs and one sergeant pepper on a midsummer jig, a doctor hook and the ferrule hound with the latching eyes; deserves its head on a bankstick with two rods between its ears. perch-trained i hope. while you were brewing guy fawkes crumb for fly tipping [...]
Letters From Arcadia
DP Whilst you were being a la carted off to the stocks for the crime of poaching a forty one pound porker a brigade of backwoodsmen from the old country were brewing up the biggest riot since the hayrickers went off a few centuries ago.
Caught by the River