I’m currently deep in the depth of mathematical research into the equations behind genetic fractals. I’m also ever looking for the next thing to do. Regular work bores me quickly and right now my work is as regular as it gets and I can do it with my brain in sleep mode. The only redeeming hope is that the work is temporary and Continue reading Why thinking is a bad idea, if you want to get somewhere good
Over the holiday period, my mind tends to find its way out. Out as in, out of the rut and constraints of the life I have built around me. Out as in, out of these self-inflicted boundaries that keep me safe and stupid. Continue reading Epiphanic explorational moments
There was a time when my job had me travel all over the world. In style. I’d be jetting to all the nice places in the world, often receiving VIP treatment. That had nothing to do with my stature as a human being but was a reflection of my role in an industry that deeply regrets the good old days of travel more than anyone else. The airline industry. Continue reading Travelled time
If you have been fortunate enough to see a living shrimp in its natural habitat then you will agree on two things with me. First, they are magnificent creatures with their combative pincers, their science fiction like eyes, hyper-balanced legs on stilts and that powerful whip of a tail that allows them to flick to a new position so fast, that your eyes won’t follow. Continue reading The last Eden
Today’s postcard is from St Hospice at Cap Ferrat in the South of France.
Cap Ferrat is split into two capes, a small one, sticking out like a thumb to the east and a big cape, the stretched fingers to the west. The fingers is where all the expensive properties are. On the thumb cape the properties are also in the 10+ million Euro range but they would appear to be family owned and probably never change hands. This gives this part of the cape a feeling of established continuity. Continue reading Postcard: from a war grave at St Hospice, Cap Ferrat
Today’s postcard is from St Paul near Vence, just above Nice on the french Riviera.
St Paul is a medieval village perched on a hill top. Just outside the wall of the citadel is an inn named “la Colombe d’Or”, the Golden Dove. This unassuming inn became a favourite haunt for artists in 1920′ and after. Continue reading Postcard: Art in the Provence
Another postcard, this time from Cannes in the South of France.
Cannes, of film festival fame. Red carpets and paparazzi, this is “spot the celebrity” land. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t recognise Bruce Willis if he punched me in the face or Nicole Kidman if she embraced me in comfort, berating bad Bruce. So, sadly I won’t be recognising any celebs today. Continue reading Postcard: Cannes, the old affair