Sunday, 23 July 2017
this is the land of the fairy and the dragon. the fairy is the dakini, tibetan female protector of the way, she drinks blood from the skullcup and is the power that is channeled through the three bladed magickal dagger called Phurpa. They are daughters of Kali, of Lilith, and they haunt the moors and lonely places.
Incredibly proud too, to be announcing the publication of a slender splendid poisoned chalice/chapbook by Sd/Mb bearing the imprint of Philip Best's publishing house 'Amphetamine Sulphate'. Entitled 'Talisman Angelical', and brilliantly edited/assembled by Philip, it will be available come September
I have a particular fondness for what I might term 'fairy dragons', small misshapen beasts with ragged auras of the fantastic. As a child this manifested itself in a love of spiders, dragonflies, moths and in particular, the insect known as the 'devils coach horse'.
Larger examples I have found in our ex-feral cats and yorkshire cob horses. Now if only we could have orcas in our reservoirs.... (only joking, I hate the moorland reservoirs, and intend to blow up the dam walls and flood the Aire valley)
Wednesday, 7 June 2017
Thanks to Magreb for gathering and asking some meaningful questions, then editing and illuminating my garbled responses. This can be found at: http://magreb.org/2017/06/skullflower-eng/
Miss Emily's Tiki bar, Y'all...
A new track, celebrating redness by the forger is on skullflower.bandcamp.com, entitled 'lake of burning pitch', and there are also t shirts, in a variety of psychedelic distress, in the merch section:
Friday, 14 April 2017
light years ago they nailed a jewish prophet to a cross
the cross is a crossroads, a gateway
the interstices of spirit and matter, whether straight up or slantwise, something enters (jackal, anubis is the enterer) something alien entered the human lifewave at golgotha, at which point I further submit; the 'holy ghost' is the wholly other, a spirit every which way as inhuman as our dark god.
Pendas fen: Defend this land, walk this land. Elgar walked the hills at Settle, in Pendas Fen he says he returns, haunts, to see the light on water, broken in rills and trills as it falls on stream river and brook. When Heathcliff has gone beyond, they both return to haunt the moors they have loved, like Elgar, Emily, WB, we will return, for nowhere in this arrangement of whirling atoms is there any spectacle for me, as lovely as light on this english water.
Thursday, 16 March 2017
our huge heartfelt thanks to Alexey and Sofia, Gael, Phurpa, Philip (Sound!) and all who attended what was our best show in forever...
And an appreciation to the patriarchs and saints of the gold clad holy russian orthodox church who have knelt and crawled and prayed on the hard road of bitter redemption, where when you least expect it you may be borne up in the arms of winged angels to find yourself dizzyingly suspended over inverted churches and squares to ring like unhinged cracked and true church bells swinging in an empty sky of purest azure, Amen.