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- The Cape Town Postcard -




 A few years ago during a typical, lively, boozy evening in the parish of St John's Wood, where I used to live at No.66 on the infamous road that is called Abbey, a 'learned graphologist' was invited by some good friends of mine to analyze their handwriting. ("He sought in graphology indications of capacity and disposition.") - I was told later by the hostess, that, as fate will have it, while refilling his glass, the 'LG' caught sight of a postcard on the table. A postcard that I had rough-scrawled in a state of some.... and posted to her from South Africa where I was on vacation. As you do, when you are.

Anyway, apparently grimacing intently over said missive, he suddenly declared with much excitement . . "Ye Gods and little fishes WHO on earth is this person?", or words to that effect. He then proceeded to analyze every loop, slant, cross and dot. Bear with me I will get to the point but methinks this true tale is more fun with a whaddyacallit... preamble? So. . .

The various proclamations of the learned graphologist were carefully noted and written down by the kindly hostess. And it came to pass upon my return to London she showed me said notes. There were a dozen or so observations. I began, with an eyebrow raised and a wry smile, to read down the list. Among the various generalities I saw - 'very creative', 'powers of observation', 'diplomatic as a means to an end', 'preference for the colour blue', 'over blown sense of own importance', 'fantastic lover' etc. (OK. I made that one up). I read on down and arrived at the penultimate sentence. I paused, I blinked and read it again, then I read it again. The sentence was, "I would not like to live in this person's mind for more than ten minutes!" - I forget what followed. Well you would wouldn't you? I went back and reread, "I would not like to live in this person's mind for more than ten minutes!" He wouldn't... No, he would not. Indeed!

After some consideration, on balance (Ha Ho), I had/have to agree with the L G'ist that, without the benefit of my unique mixture of nature and nurture, given the choice, which you may well presume that I have, though you'd be wrong; I'll tell you - My mind is often not a comfortable place to dwell. Vocation Mews... Starfire Avenue... Hypocrisy Street...Wake-Up Alley... Gruesome Gardens... Gnostic Grove... Doh Drive... Lowlife Heights... Triangle Square... AND YET - And at last here comes the point. Dear Jon has not just 'lived in my mind' for a mere ten minutes. He has spent months, seasons, eons in there. I am amazed, humbled, amused, fused, grateful and perhaps most importantly often reawakened by his labour of love. Thank you Jon.

Peter Sinfield. Aldeburgh UK. Christmas 2000.


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