Epic kitesurfing

The session yesterday was absolutly epic. Easily the best I’ve done yet.

I managed to get going both ways along the beach (the onshore F4 was perfect), and zipped down to Bracklesham and back many times. Sunburned and knackered today, but looking forward the next time!

Han remembered her camera, so put a photo up at some point.

Beach life

At Bracklesham Bay on Saturday where we arrived at high tide and Liv did a couple of ten second kite surf runs that looked spectacular and Mama and I tried to body board in wild surf.

Then, to East Wittering yesterday, at low tide, where Liv did so many longer and more impressive runs I stopped counting. The water was positively warm for swimming. We even saw the naked jogger, though he appears to have had an injunction slapped on him, because he was wearing shorts.

I managed to leave my camera behind on both days so here’s a photo of someone else kitesurfing.

High tide on East Wittering beach creates perfect shallow lagoons, ideal for Kitesurfing. Mixed in a with a stormy English summer evening.

Hallelujah

Any more verses, anyone? Or improvements? (In terms of writing time, I’m with Bob Dylan – see below.)

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He grew whiskers on his chinnigan
The wind came out and blew them in again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He took six biscuits from a tinigan
Put them back and drank some ginigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He went fishing with a pinigan
Caught a whale but threw him in again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Took some rubbish to the binigan
Looked inside and saw his twinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Climbed a tree and barked his shinigan
Took off yards and yards of skinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Played a game but had to winigan
Found out soon this made him sinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Tried very hard, never to spinigan
Learned at last to smile and grinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He kicked up an awful dinigan
Everyone said he must not sing again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He grew fat and then grew thin again
When he died he had to begin again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

well a concert with that happy soul should cheer mama up! what price le cirque du soleil???

He’s the man

Leonard Cohen: his wit, warmth and wisdom

ON THE REAL-LIFE SUBJECT OF HIS SONG, SUZANNE
“I touched her perfect body with my mind. Mostly because she was married to a friend of mine and I couldn’t touch her with anything else!”

ON THE BREAK-UP OF THE SIXTIES FOLK MOVEMENT
“Everybody went for the money. Everybody. The thing died very quickly; the merchants took over. Nobody resisted. My purity is based on the fact that nobody offered me much money.”

ON HIS STATUS AS A POET
“I always thought of myself as a competent, minor poet. I know who I’m up against. Dante, Shakespeare, Isaiah, King David, Homer.”

ON DOUBLE DATING WITH IGGY POP
“I visited Iggy in the studio. Somebody showed us a clipping with a personal ad, a young woman looking for ‘a man with the mind of Leonard Cohen and the body of Iggy Pop’. We wrote a polite letter suggesting we meet sometime, both signed it and placed my telephone number under it. The girl answered. Unfortunately, her only interest was in leading profound conversations.”

ON BOB DYLAN
“Dylan and I were having coffee in Paris a few years ago. He was doing Hallelujah in concert and asked me how long it took to write. I said, ‘Oh, the best part of two years.’ He said, ‘Two years?’ Kinda shocked. And then we started talking about a song of his called I And I. I said, ‘How long did you take to write that?’ He said, ‘Oh, best part of 15 minutes.’ I almost fell off my chair. And the thing is I lied. Actually, it took me closer to five years. Of course he lied, too. It probably took him 10 minutes.”

ON MELANCHOLY
“If I had a recipe against melancholy I would sell it in bottles and would soon be an enormously rich man. But don´t worry, I am often melancholic but I do not suffer any more from it.”

ON RELIGIOUS FAITH
“I’m not very strong on faith. I’m much more interested in experience than belief. My experience indicates without doubt that there is the embrace of the absolute. You’ve had it. When you embrace a woman and kiss her lips you forget your name. That’s the experience of the absolute.”

ON THE FUTURE
“The future is already here, and it’s always been bleak. The whole place looks like a butcher’s shop. Probably always did.”