Day 2 // Ultramarathon Training: Why am I running?

Because my life matters to me.

Because I have been invited by Burning Man to sing the Call at Black Rock City 2017, so I began to listen deeply to the internet for the longing of Burning Man to return to the Oneness of all being.

Because within that aural intensity, I was invited by the Jackrabbit to participate in the Burning Man 50k Ultramarathon.

Because I signed up as quickly as breath flows through a flute, without trembling.

Because I want my lungs, my wings, my baal and baad carriers to pump as divine engines, and a training programme will help them grow.

Because I am moving to London, and the marshes of Walthamstow are singing to me.


I ran a little too far today, along the Thames path from Tilehurst to Caversham. Heavy rain overnight lingered on the early summer morning as a dense, wildly perfumed mist. Frothing elder, baby oak, tight ferns and slender leaf hawthorn edging my favourite stretch of the Thames for 7 miles. I ran as much on the ground as through my thoughts – of leadership, of Islam, of my friends, of my producers, of a fresh love in my garden and how it might grow – until I stood between two dangling weepers opposite the house in Caversham that Daddy nearly bought in 1997, the house owned by Mr Horseman. I always pause here, on the opposite bank of the river from my father’s aspirations, and pledge to honour his dreams. I cannot help myself, I am his daughter. I’ll have a good house by the river for you, Daddy, for when you’re old, just you wait.

Stood between the two willows, their long tousled branches sweeping against my shoulders and elbows, three Egyptian geese appear, as surprised by me as I am by my slow, years long conversion to self-acceptance. I mean, really, as if something so beautiful and strange could be found right here, in Reading, beside the Thames.

Egyptian Goose.jpg

 

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What is the greatest?

So, did you know that it is forbidden to ‘sing’ the Islamic call to prayer? Apparently, if the vowels are excessively elongated and the call becomes more like song, then people won’t understand what is being said to them. Who knew?

I intend no disrespect to Islam. But this weekend I will be singing to call five times, between 6pm Saturday 25th and 6pm Sunday 26th February, at the (in)xclusion 24 hour live art festival. Cannee freckin wait. xxx

Right now, I’ve got some viral Stockholm-fever following my weekend of intense arttings at the Stockholm Independent Art Fair. And by that I don’t mean that my Scandanavian self has become a media frenzy. Me’s got bogies is all. But please check out Paul Dunca, he’s me new fave vampire.

Rrrright.

AALLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH AKKKKKKKBABABABABABABABBAAAAARRRRR.

etc

sneeze

kisses. x