Saturday, 29 March 2014


Molly was exhausted... Andrei had escorted her to the pizza shop the day before and she thought she had remembered where to go when he told her this morning...

It was her first time alone and she had become so confused by the different platforms, new sights, smells and sounds, and endless people coming on and walking off the train. No one seemed to even notice she was there as they pushed and shoved their way along their predetermined paths. She had recalled what Andrei had said, but before she realised it she was on a route that no longer looked familiar... And when the doors opened briefly, she was not quick enough to respond. It was too late. The doors closed once again and she was carried off to a new place...

Andrei had walked with her to the Baker street station and they had ridden the tube together to the first interchange at Edgeware Road where they would part ways for the day. This is where it all went wrong.

"I will have to run to catch my tube" said Andrei.

"But see that set of stairs?" He nudged his nose in the air to Molly.

She nodded. Big eyes looking up at him and trying to pay close attention to his every word... She had only just met Andrei and he was so kind. He had taken her in that first day to show her around East Putney and taught her how to get a free meal. Molly felt a little scared to be separated from him. She had trouble understanding the voices and it was rare that a word would escape that perked her ears from their familiarity.

Molly looked over at the set of stairs...

"Now when the doors open Molly, you follow those stairs to catch the train on the green line that will bring you to where we were yesterday. I will need to catch the yellow line for where I am going" he said with a kind look of reassurance. As the train began to slow, the doors opened and he gave her a little loving nuzzle before he disappeared into the distance.

Yesterday, after their stop at the pizza shop, Andrei had brought Molly to Regents Park where they had spent the day frolicking in the lake and the night under the quiet darkened sky. Upon waking this morning it was therefore a new route for her once again when Molly and Andrei got on the tube at the Baker street station. Surrounded by the narrow streets and what felt like towering buildings had made her feel disoriented from the moment they left the park. And now she was alone...

Friday, 14 March 2014

A Mare Among Colts and Stallions

Amore was quite gentle and trusting when it came to outsiders. She did not have the same apprehension that other may have when meeting a new individual. This blind trust of hers had gotten her into trouble and her loving nature was such that she did at times put herself in harm’s way.  Amore had come across a number of colts and stallions in her life that had wounded her quite severely. Yet, she was fortunate to have a few deeply devoted kith and kin that had renewed her trust and enabled her to maintain her belief that kindness and warmth were the norm rather than deceit or malice. Her past had created in her a barrier that in recent years had slowly begun to crumble.

(Wikipedia:Contact us/Photo submission) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (], via Wikimedia Commons
Even as a mare she would give into her need to bond profoundly with another to the point that the choices with whom she would unite were dangerous. But bit by bit she had initiated building ties. She was not always certain of the stallions or even the mares within this new herd. Nevertheless, there were several carefree yearlings that had renewed her fragmented spirit. The yearlings were those toward which she could easily place her trust, care and devotion. As a result, this new herd with which Amore had been running with had created a sense of security in her that she had not felt in a long time. Perhaps it was the loving interchanges between her and the yearlings. She had recently come across a stallion who seemed equally wounded that had captured her attention. Still, this new stallion was nonchalant and their brief interchanges had created within her a sense of urgency that was pulling her from Amado. Amore had lived many lives prior to her domesticated prison and the acceptance into this herd reminded her of the devoted and tender moments of years past. Moments to which she clung as she galloped across the wide expanse to melt away her sorrows…

Sunday, 2 March 2014


The chance meetings are those that sometimes bring about the most inspired thinking… The pleasure of such moments is what has guided my own narrative process. This week, I was given the lovely gift of a story. I would like to share as it brought back some of my own happy childhood memories…

“Mommy, why is the cat naked?”

It is one of those rare moments from my earliest flashbacks of childhood, where I have more memories of the story’s retelling than the actual event itself.

According to family lore, I dashed around the house, cherry-picking garments of various shapes and sizes from plush animals, toy boxes, and the back of the chest-of-drawers. Everyone had a good laugh watching me try and coax the mystified feline into a fashion show. Growing up, the tale was told and retold around the dinner table, or on long family outings. The laugh at my expense was softened with the implication that I had always been an outside-the-box thinker. Yet, when I reflect back on the story now, I wonder if I was actually staring into the box, rather than outside of it.

The box, in this case, is an assumption that is so obvious that it is rarely discussed: The biggest difference between humans and animals is our lack of nakedness.

When we make lists of our simplest needs, we always include clothing with food and shelter. Yet, we are born naked into this world - a trait we share with every animal. Adam and Eve frolicked in the nude, of course. That was one of the virtues of the Garden of Eden. But if a reality check is needed, a simple flip through an old National Geographic magazine - or a stroll through a nudist colony - will quickly dissolve any sentimentality for the days before our ancestors found the fig leaf.

Children love to play dress-up. They understand that all clothes are costumes. They see them for the symbols that they are, and the signals they communicate. Because adults are simply children with independence, empowerment, and money, we continue the act of playing dress-up throughout our lives. Fig leaves aside, the earliest pieces of clothing were probably the skins of animals. To wear fur in pre-modern times was actually conservationist in its symbolism. Just as native peoples would ceremonially sacrifice the animals of the hunt in order to honor them, so would they have lasting remembrance by donning the skins of their prey.

In a postmodern world, most of us find the idea of wearing fur antiquated and socially unacceptable. But, as humanity becomes more removed from the natural world, as our planet loses its ecological diversity, as societies continue to value short-term profits over long-term sustainability, I could foresee a surging interest in wearing animal skins. This will not be framed as copious displays of wealth, but a natural extension of the organic movement. Just as the ingredients, locality, and farming practices of one’s food has become part of the narrative of one’s political identity, I anticipate the textile market moving in a similar direction.

And, perhaps, that most succinctly answers the question of why people wear clothes and animals don’t.

People are political animals.

Like everything else in life, it seems you can blame it on politics…;)

~Dan le Magique Man

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