Anorak Magazine

We are very happy to be featured in: Anorak the Happy Magazine for Children (The Myths and Legends edition). We like the Doggy Bowie cartoon best of all.


Ed and Will in Anorak Magazine

Ed and Will in Anorak Magazine

Two Spanish Poems

Two works by Spanish poets, which we read and thought oh!

Have them both:


“Proverbios y cantares XXIX”

by Antonio Machado
trans. Betty Jean Craige

Wanderer, your footsteps
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, we have no road,
we make the road by walking.
As you walk you make the road,
and to look back is to see that never
can we pass this way again.
Wanderer, there is no road,
only traces in the sea.



Walking Around

by Pablo Neruda
trans. Robert Bly

It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.

Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great
to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.

I don’t want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.

I don’t want so much misery.
I don’t want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.

That’s why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist houses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

There are sulphur-colored birds, and hideous intestines hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,
there are mirrors that ought to have wept from shame and terror,
there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical cords.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,
my rage, forgetting everything,
I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic shops,
and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:
underwear, towels and shirts from which slow dirty tears are falling.

The Art of Paul Cummings

This is NOT about the well-established digital artist who works for Saatchi, called Paul Cummings. Find him everywhere elsewhere. We don’t know him.

This post is all about another Paul Cummings, who we met in Avebury at midsummer last year.

HMP by Paul Cummings

HMP by Paul Cummings - Chalk Pastel 835x595 mm

“You reckon that’s pacified your Gods? Cos it ain’t pacified mine”.

Click to read more, and see all the pictures… (more…)

The Songs We Sing

This post is an article, which can be freely distributed on any other website or publication as desired. For an introduction, photographs or recordings, please contact us.

The Songs We Sing

or, how we understand traditional music’s importance.

Christmas sing-it-up

woodland winter songs


Cartoon Cut Out “Ed and Will”

A man from St. Austell once sent us a picture.

We were flattered, because it was of us, and it was very good.

Ed Will by Trystan Mitchell

To find out more, please read on…


Cut Out Figures

The best way to make these yourself, is to right-click on them, ‘save the image-as’, then open them and print them yourself. Use medium-weight card, for best results.

Good luck. If you succeed, please send us a photo…

Press More for cut-outs


Kate’s Middle English Verse

This verse was sent in to us, by a lovely person named Kate, who we have met only through this webbed medium.
She has just gone to be a milkmaid in Ireland, we’re told, which seems an obvious choice for a young lady fresh from literary studies.
The verse is written in middle English, Chaucer’s Tales language, and we like it lots.
We’re promised it will “one day be a printed epic”, which sounds very good indeed.
Here it is:


Her on lond, a tale withoute lesinges:


Thre folk of man wandringe geten livinge,


Thre menes song singeth of haslewode,


Hem wend awei – the best of al manne fode.


Hem slepen al withouten hous or hom


For liken hem in wildernesse to rom.

Thank-you Kate. And if anyone wants more of the same or similar, let us know, and we’ll make the connections.

Thought for the mile vol.7

“If humanity does not opt for integrity we are through completely. It is absolutely touch and go. Each one of us could make the difference. ”

R. Buckminster Fuller

Paul Cummings Vs Paul Cummings

The first Paul Cummings artist lives in London, and makes digital art. He is closely associated with Saatchi.

His single piece of art, “Road Side”, seen below, is shortlisted to win the  £25,000 Threadneedle prize. BBC tell more here.

"Road Side" by Paul Cummings

Road Side by Paul Cummings

The second Paul Cummings artist lives in Wiltshire, and often paints with coffee, toothpaste, and cigarette ash, the only materials available in HMP.

His work, called ‘Lydon’ or ‘We’re So Pretty’ (below) was also in a competition. It was made with chalk pastels, during a period of liberty. and Paul took first prize, to walk away with a cheque for £100. Local papers tell more here.

<a href=”” title=”Lydon by Paul Cummings by A Walk Around Britain, on Flickr”><img src=”” width=”400″ height=”378″ alt=”Lydon by Paul Cummings” /></a>
Lydon by Paul Cummings

Lydon by Paul Cummings

SO…the question is NOT which do you prefer, though tell us if you want.

The question is: what puts Paul Cummings the first in position to contend for a prize fund 250 times bigger than Paul Cummings the second?

Two pictures, two artists, one name, and 250 times the money. A very marked difference.

If, like us, you feel a desire to even things out (but unlike us have the means to do so) email us here, and we can arrange contact with Paul 2.


Thought for the mile vol.6

“These families, who had formed the backbone of the village life in the past, were the depositories of the village traditions, had to seek refuge in the large centres; the process humourously designated by statisticians as ‘the tendency for the rural population toward the large towns’, being really the tendency of water to flow uphill when forced by machinery.”

Thomas Hardy – Tess of the D’Urbervilles