Upon A Painted Sea

Last night I went to see a wonderful production of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by the Tiger Lillies at the Southbank Centre. It looked like the fever-dream of a Victorian set designer and the music was dark and wonderful. Anyway, it reminded me of quite how much I love the poem. It is both nightmarish and beautiful, and even contains living corpses at one point (joy). So, rather than me waffling on about it, I thought I'd just stick it on my blog for everyone to enjoy.

The Rime of Ancient Mariner

by

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Part I

It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
Mayst hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.
`Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropped he.

He holds him with his glittering eye - 
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

"The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.

The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon -"
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

"And now the storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And foward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken - 
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came;
As it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moonshine."

`God save thee, ancient Mariner,
From the fiends that plague thee thus! - 
Why look'st thou so?' -"With my crossbow
I shot the Albatross."


Part II

"The sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hollo!

And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.

Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung."


Part III

"There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye - 
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;
Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:
Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;
Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame,
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.

And straight the sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?
And is that Woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that Woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
`The game is done! I've won! I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
My life-blood seemed to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
From the sails the dew did drip - 
Till clomb above the eastern bar
The horned moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly, - 
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my crossbow!"


Part IV

`I fear thee, ancient Mariner!
I fear thy skinny hand!
And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown.' - 
"Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest!
This body dropped not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,
A wicked whisper came and made
My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And the balls like pulses beat;
Forthe sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky,
Lay like a load on my weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Nor rot nor reek did they:
The look with which they looked on me
Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;
But oh! more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse,
And yet I could not die.

The moving moon went up the sky,
And no where did abide:
Softly she was going up,
And a star or two beside - 

Her beams bemocked the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway
A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship
I watched the water-snakes:
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they reared, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire:
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.

O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare:
A spring of love gushed from my heart,
And I blessed them unaware:
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.

The selfsame moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea."


Part V

"Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from heaven,
That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remained,
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
I was so light -almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed ghost.

And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the moon
The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools - 
We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope,
But he said nought to me."

`I fear thee, ancient Mariner!'
"Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest!
'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
Which to their corses came again,
But a troop of spirits blest:

For when it dawned -they dropped their arms,
And clustered round the mast;
Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,
And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the skylark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe;
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep,
From the land of mist and snow,
The spirit slid: and it was he
That made the ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune,
And the ship stood still also.

The sun, right up above the mast,
Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion - 
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,
I have not to declare;
But ere my living life returned,
I heard and in my soul discerned
Two voices in the air.

`Is it he?' quoth one, `Is this the man?
By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross.

The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, `The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do.'


Part VI

First Voice

But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing - 
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?

Second Voice

Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast - 

If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him.

First Voice

But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?

Second Voice

The air is cut away before,
And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.

"I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;
The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapped: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen - 

Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring - 
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sailed softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze - 
On me alone it blew.

Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
The lighthouse top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own country?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray - 
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light,
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:
I turned my eyes upon the deck - 
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood!
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart - 
No voice; but oh! the silence sank
Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turned perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third -I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood."


Part VII

"This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineers
That come from a far country.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve - 
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,
`Why, this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now?'

`Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said - 
`And they answered not our cheer!
The planks looked warped! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere!
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
That eats the she-wolf's young.'

`Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look - 
(The Pilot made reply)
I am afeared' -`Push on, push on!'
Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl where sank the ship
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips -the Pilot shrieked
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
`Ha! ha!' quoth he, `full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own country,
I stood on the firm land!
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!
The Hermit crossed his brow.
`Say quick,' quoth he `I bid thee say - 
What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech;
That moment that his face I see,
I know the man that must hear me:
To him my tale I teach.

What loud uproar bursts from that door!
The wedding-guests are there:
But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are;
And hark the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company! - 

To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
Old men, and babes, and loving friends,
And youths and maidens gay!

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small;
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
Is gone; and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn

FrightFest 2013

And so, after some time to recover, a trip to Croydon, a trip to Brighton, a migraine, a visit to the Tate Modern and a spot of house work, it is finally time for my FrightFest Top Five!!! (Behold an excitement only expressible through three exclamation marks.)

In no particular order...

1) The Last Days A brilliant Spanish sci-fi film in which the population of the world are suddenly struck down with a fatal case of agoraphobia and our hero must make his way across Barcelona to find his girlfriend, without stepping foot outside. I'm a sucker for films where people have to travel across dangerous environments to find the person they love, so this ticked a lot of boxes for me. It's a little cheesy, but I really got into the characters and could barely breathe with tension at some points.

2) Banshee Chapter The creepiest film of the festival, with plenty of moments where something unnameable is coming up the stairs, or lurking just around the corner, and I jumped like a baby kangaroo. A must watch for Forteans and those interested in conspiracy theories, it takes the MK Ultra experiments and adds on a little HP Lovecraft. The more I think about it, the more I like it.

3) No One Lives The first 20 minutes of this are like a million other slasher films, and I really felt like I knew exactly where the whole film was going. Then something completely mental happens and it turns into the sort of splatter-fest I just adore. Completely over the top, completely ridiculous, completely irresistible.

4) Big Bad Wolves It's so hard to describe this film in way that would make anyone want to watch it. It's dark and violent; it's about revenge and torture; yet it's also genuinely funny. I still can't believe how much I laughed. This film is just so well made, the writing, the directing, the cinematography, the acting, everything is superb. The directors are planning an Isreali cowboy film next, and I reckon that'll be amazing.

5) You're Next I thought this was going to be one of those horrifying home invasion films that keep me awake at night. Without wanting to give anything away, this was less scary than I thought it would be, but also a much cleverer and better film. The story can basically be summed up as the worst family holiday ever. There are some nice little cameos and Sharni Vinson is brilliant as the new girlfriend meeting the family for the first time. I hope it does well in the cinema, because it's awesome.

Now, I probably could've done a top ten, but I hate blogs that are too long, so here are some films that deserve a mention and a watch; Curse of Chucky, Haunter, Hatchet III, bits of V/H/S 2, 100 Bloody Acres (especially if you liked Tucker and Dale...), The Hypnotist, Hammer of the Gods, RIPD, Dark Tourist, The Conspiracy, Odd Thomas, We Are What We Are. Gosh, that's loads. What can I say? It was a great weekend.

The Five Step Solution to Pointless Flapping

I managed to get myself in a totally unnecessary flap today. It started when I discovered that I have left my new skirt down in Plymouth. Then, while looking for my oyster card I realised that I had left it in my jeans pocket, the very same jeans that were, at that very moment, whirling around in the washing machine. It was one of those days in which everything took more time and energy than I thought it would, and I didn't really end up doing most of the things I had planned.

However, instead of this post turning into a session in which I moan at and about myself, here are some of the things I do to stop myself feeling stressed. Take note, this may be as close as I ever come to writing a self-help book.

1) Take a deep breath and remember that I have plenty of time tomorrow to dye my hair and make some biscuits, and even if those things don't happen, it's not the end of the world. The hair and biscuits elements are pretty specific to today's flap, but taking a deep breath and putting things in context is always a good idea.

2) Make a list. Now, I'm not really much of a list writer, but even just taking a moment and mentally listing what needs to get done can make everything seem a lot less scary and more manageable.

3) Go on YouTube and watch something a bit cheesy but fun. Today, I have chosen Don't Worry Be Happy by Bobby McFerrin and it is making me feel a million times better.

4) Play with one or more of my pets. I've cuddled the kittens and Tommy. I'm fairly certain scientists have proven this to be good for you, so you don't just have to take my word for it, but it really is very hard to feel stressed when there's a cute little creature on your knee.

5) Finally (because I like things going in fives, and I dislike long blog-posts) put something random and enjoyable on the TV or whatever entertainment device you prefer, and just allow yourself to become immersed in something completely meaningless, but really fun. I've watched a lot of Australian MasterChef this evening, and now I'm going to hop on to Netflix and watch an Arrested Development or two.

There, isn't that better. Flap over.

I'm off to FrightFest tomorrow (yay!). I'll let you know what's good from that next week, once my mind and body have recovered a little bit. Oh, and I'll tell you all about the Plymouth Wrestling Association, which I was going to write about today until my flap started.

Can I have a P please, Bob.

In the spirit of Sesame Street, today's letter is P.

P is for poisoned, which is how I felt this morning after going to the pub last night. Remember those heady days when I had amazing alcohol tolerance and didn't really get hangovers? Gone.

P is for potential, as in the potential for a wonderful evening out watching the younger members of Zoonation street-dance their way through Groove on Down the Road at the Southbank Centre tonight. I saw Some Like it Hip Hop a couple of years ago, and that was brilliant, so I have high hopes.

P is for Plymouth, the land of pirates, pixies and pasties, where I shall be heading tomorrow to visit my brother and sister-in-law and see the Plymouth Wrestling Alliance in action. Might not quite hit the heights of Wrestlemania in Miami, but should be lots of fun and I'm really looking forward to a little holiday.

And finally, today's number is 3. Why? Because three is the magic number.

Day Five: Home Tattoo

There's a saying that if you want to make God laugh, you should tell him your plans, and I feel that this sums up Momento Maureen's Fantabulous Week of Challenges perfectly. I thought that Lego Shelob would be a nightmare to make, but it was a breeze; I didn't have most of the ingredients for my biscuits; it took ages to find my Romero dvds; those paper-zombies were a complete pain in the bum and then there was today. Over eighteen months ago (Christmas 2011) my dad got me a Tribal Tattoo pack including jagua ink, traditionally used for tattoos in the Amazon. My plan for today was to finally use this pack to make a nice temporary tattoo.

But...

I looked through the book, grasped the basic instructions, had a design in mind and then realised that the little pot of jagua ink had dried up. Damn and blast!

Thankfully, I had an ace up my sleeve in the form of my Mum (occasional tattoo designer being one of her many talents) and her multicolour set of permanent markers.

This little beauty is now on the inside of my right arm for as long as it lasts. It's funny, because as a child I often got into trouble for drawing on myself, and now Mum's doing it for me! That's what's great about being an adult.

So, despite various set-backs, and chuckles from whichever form of deity you choose to picture, all the challenges have been successfully completed, and I even managed to blog about them all on the day they happened. I'm giving myself a big pat on the back, and offering a vote of thanks to you, Beautiful Reader, for coming on this slightly random journey with me.

Day Four: Zombie Army

Thank you to the people who made my Fold Your Own Zombie calendar. It's not your fault that I'd only made one zombie all year and decided to catch up all in one go. Making one paper zombie is fun, turns out that making seven really isn't.

There you go. My evil paper-zombie army, the fiddly little shits.

Tomorrow: Home tattooing!

Day Three: Zombie Marathon

I have sort of completed the George A. Romero Zombie Movie Marathon Challenge. I've watched the first four, and given that Diary of the Dead and Survival of the Dead are sort of a re-boot, and not quite as awesome as the earlier films, I may not bother with them today. Having said that, once I've been sociable and played with the kittens a bit, I may go back and watch them. My options are open.

Anyway, here are some thoughts that arose during the eight and a half hours of film watching. Warning: May contain the odd spoiler.

1) I love how old fashioned Night of the Living Dead is: the zombies are blamed on radiation: they don't confirm that the "unburied dead" are arising until an hour into the film: there's an actual "The End" screen at the conclusion. Classic.

2) The tragedy at the end of the first film is that the brave Ben ends up just as dead as the cowardly Cooper. Death doesn't play favourites, or as Homer Simpson said, "blue m&m, red m&m, they all end up the same colour in the end."

3) Top tip: before starting a movie marathon, it might be advisable to find the dvds in advance. The only positive about how long it took me to find Dawn of the Dead (1978) was that I found all the other George Romero zombie films while looking for it.

4) So many great quotes across all the films, but it's safe to say that my favourite is, "When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth."

5) I love how often they just punch zombies in the face in Dawn of the Dead. I'd never noticed that before.

6) I like Day of the Dead, but it's not my favourite. I think that's because it focuses so much on the collapse of human relations, or, in other words, it's jam-packed full of arseholes. Having said that, it does contain the immortal line, "I'm running this monkey-farm now, Frankenstein!" I wonder if I could fit that into an everyday conversation?

7) I love how, as the films go on, the zombie crowds become more interesting. It starts with just some dead people, and grows to include nuns, butchers, clowns, ballerinas etc.

8) God forbid I ever get eaten by zombies, but if I do, I hope I have the presence of mind for my last words to be "Choke on 'em."

9) I love Land of the Dead more than it's probably cool to admit. It was the first Romero film I was old enough to see in the cinema, and I went to the very first showing at the Cineworld Wood Green. Big Daddy may well be the coolest zombie ever.

10) They really don't use the "Z" word all that often. Peter says it once in Dawn and Kaufman (Dennis Hopper in fabulous form) says "Zombies, man. They creep me out," but that's about it. They mainly get called ghouls, creatures, stenches, and walkers.

Blimey, I think ten points are enough. Thanks to Jago for sitting on my knee and helping me write this.

Tomorrow, I create a Zombie Army!