Fevered musings of a Saturday afternoon; or the G(u)ilt of Gilt; or Her on her Best Religious Behaviour

Any Saturday - all Saturdays, even - are splendid. This is a priori, and not for us mere mortals to question. The one I'm thinking about in particular was no different, except that instead of seeing me at home, in bed for most of the day before I go sing for my supper all evening, this one saw me in Koh Samui, sitting in the shade of a giant Buddha, surrounded by a sea so green, it made my heart ache with longing. Thinking. Writing. Playing.

Here are a few scribblings, in no particular order.

We take turns

you and I

playing at the air

to each other's sea.

The religious is the secular here; the everyday.

Consider this Big Buddha:

I consumed and meditated at his feet.

Of the two states of being,

I have a little white dress to show for the former.

Lists of a Saturday afternoon

Worship comes in many shapes:

bowing

kowtowing

ringing, singing, throwing, clicking

with a smile

a laugh

a grimace

fervent ardour

noise

silence

writing

givingcaringsharing.

What do gold, pink, yellow, blue, orange, red and maroon have in common?

Colours apart, the tones build, come together to create the aspect of the Buddha.

All religions need bells, colour; sound and light

to bedazzle - dare I say it - bewitch.

As religions go, this is a happy one -

Throw things at the deity, and he won't smite you with a bolt of lightning.

At least not immediately.

Isn't that saying a lot?

Theirs is not an angry God; not one born of the desert.

His are aqueous transmissions.

It seems fitting

to write

on yellow here.

Gilt~G(u)ilt~Y as charged, m'lord.

Of Sound

Some ring but half-heartedly.

Is it better than not ringing at all?

All the ostentation serves to evoke is its lack:

If every binary only works in conjunction,

This opulence evokes starkness, non-being, non-time.

After all, faith,

that most deadly of all things,

is g(u)ilt-laden.

Is it wrong to catch someone's eye in a temple?

What does it mean to be asked to "dress respectfully" whilst the heroes of yore

ride their murals and tigers topless?

What is the connection between my legs - bare - and how I feel about the Buddha?

If it is so as to not distract the monks,

Why, let them look the other way, I say.

As always

As always,

It is in the aspect of the fingers:

They point~arch above and away.

Palms close differently, hands join differently

everywhere.

Thailand is big on its hands:

This avatar's perspective is broken by his outsized one -

It is held straight, forward, palm-first, up and out,

bidding you 'stop', traveller

bidding you peace

harmony.

These statues are modern-day P(eace)-olicemen.

An observation

Does one approach him wide-eyed, hair amiss, dress askew?

Or does he like his devotees well-coiffed and contoured?

By all means, comb your hair

In the shade of the Buddha

Pose for your picture

Against the sea;

Why, it's sunny today, and the islands look stunning.

Comb your hair

in the shade of this giant Buddha.

Just don't say you did it for him.