a magazine page of autobiographical thoughts and insights .. .
‘I’ve always enjoyed writing and thats all I want to do…
I’m not sure why I ever stopped writing ~ was it 9/11?’
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… is born ugly, wet and covered in blood, mucous and bodily functions. The effluence of my short life – I’m a Writer, Artist and Blogger ~ poems, essays, articles, reviews, opinion + comment.
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an introduction and a welcome .. .
WELCOME to a page where all I talk about is myself in a fairly posturing attempt to make you like me .. . This is something the character and personality that is edenbray is not particularly good at right now.
I have always aspired to a more Bohemian life and lifestyle although you really might not think that if you met me in the flesh for I appear such a pleasant fellow, more akin to Dannie Kaye than Ernest Hemmingway, likeable and loveable.
The character that is edenbray lies somewhere beneath the surface and always has. An enigma and partizan who feels things deeply, is wounded easily and cares not for the trifles of the petit bourgeois one sot. Those same social graces and pleasantries that I appear so comfortable with and happy among. The truth is, that lately I admit I have become a little scary as 9/10 months of Isolation has caused the pretence of the socially acceptable to fall like one of those goddamn masks we all have to wear right now. The mask has just fallen to the floor and left me a little naked and a lot exposed, not a pretty sight some might say.
Read on then dear reader and learn a little more about the man behind the words in this magazine of notes because hey, guess what, you may even like what you find for believe me ‘the bear’ is really still much a possum and the scent you sense more akin to blossom .. . than to musk .. .
. .. edenbraytoday05.01.2020 .. for a brand new year 2021
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an essay .. .
I feel my most alive – when I am writing.
When I was a child I took part in a game of ‘Indians’. We were cubs on a weekend retreat in the country, somewhere near Guildford in Surrey. We were staying in a wood cabin. Two players were selected from the group as ‘cowboys’ to round up the remaining ‘Indians’. The game was a ‘tag’ game and two cowboys had to ‘tag’ the ‘Indians’ and thereby make them ‘cowboys’. We wore handkerchiefs tied round our heads to assume our ‘Indians’ role-play. We were given so many minutes to disappear into the area of bracken, scrubland and a further wood of birch and oak. I buried myself in an area of dense bracken with nettles, some of which stung my bare knees and I listened carefully as the boys ran around excitedly tagging each other, shouting, squealing with laughter and enjoying the game and that ‘thrill of being caught’ as boys tend to do.
My heart was pounding as I lay in the bracken and the day travelled on and the sun dipped to make it cool and damp. I changed my position several times, running to the woods, hiding in bushes and then returning to the bracken as I heard the hunters getting closer and closer and then gradually drifting away, while more and more ‘Indians’ were caught and began ‘hunting’ also. The game had turned into hours as the area was large and the boys searched thoroughly. I continually tightened the bandana round my head as it absorbed the sweat from my brow and drifted down my head.
I had begun to feel wild and very alone as the day progressed, like a character from William Golding’s dystopian novel ‘Lord of the Flies’ or a true wolf cub as our society club imagined we were. I ran … and hid … and crept … and felt the sweat … and the muck cling to me … from the bracken … and the dust … and the trees.
Eventually Mr Street the pack leader and our ‘Arkala’ blew his whistle to end the came. I, still hidden in the bracken, felt remote, strange, wild, unsociable, – ‘Indian’. I wanted the game to be real and to continue forever. Eventually I emerged from the long grasses something like an astronaut plucked from the ocean and reunited with his comrades with cheers and back slapping. It had been a memorable game, a great game and I and maybe a couple of others were never caught!
It is like this when I am writing. I have been hiding in bracken but when I write I step out from the undergrowth, out into the light and I can hear applause and back slapping .
… join the shebang, read and follow my work and please leave me a marker just to say you dropped by and leave some comment also, for my ego and my interest.
thanks for reading ~ edenbray
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edenbray ~ a writer and artist .. . since 1966
edenbray was born and raised in Cheam in Surrey, UK during the 50’s and 60’s and after leaving school in 1966 at 14 years old he worked constantly for 55 years as a draughtsman, artists agent, furniture warehouseman, removals technician and hospital porter before switching to self-employed for 30+ years as a freelance graphic artist before owning 3 art materials, craft supplies, picture framing and gift shops. 1 in London and 2 in Lincolnshire. The 2nd, in Boston, Lincolnshire was closed due to arson and the subsequent 3rd also held an Artists Gallery and provided art classes for all ages. He then worked as a sales advisor for an established Department Store from 2005 – 2020.
… edenbray loves Art, Literature and Sport. He began following Chelsea FC after seeing the young Jimmy Greaves in 1958 and began following American Football and especially the San Francisco 49ers in 1985. He started playing Walking Football at 64 years in 2014 and has continued into his 70th year. He is a keen advocate and active member of this growing sport.
… edenbray has an affinity, an appreciation, a love and respect for women due in part to being raised solely by his wonderful mother Roma Joan from the age of 11 and he genuinely enjoys their company. He has been happily married since 1976 and together with his wife and sole life-partner Ruth, they have raised 4 children. 2 girls and 2 boys. All 4 of his children are happily married with great and individual life partners. He has 4 grandchildren 3 of which are boys and 1 a sweet girl. Both his sons are artists in their own right. One working in graphic and computer design, the other has an MA in fine art which he also teaches. One of his daughters creates hand-crafted silver jewellery and the other is just a beautiful flower and works ‘in care’. They are all wonderful children.
… edenbray has always enjoyed writing and has written creatively and seriously since 1966 when he left school. He has also enjoyed painting and drawing all his life, a family tradition and skill … He has had 2 successful solo Art Exhibitions of his paintings in various mediums and had poems printed in several anthologies. Recently, 55 years of creative writing has been catalogued and published in 24 pamphlets of essays and verse. edenbray is currently working on his next solo art exhibition set for August 2022 and entitled ‘seventy one’.
… edenbray has been posting his written poems, essays, short stories and a novel he is currently working on to this blog over the past eleven years … edenbray welcomes comment and criticism of his work. Many of these poems are available to purchase in a a series of pamphlets – Go to > https://edenbray8.com/edenbray-pamphlets-and-publications-to-purchase/ for more information and to purchase any of these titles!
24 edenbray PAMPHLETS AVAILABLE TO PURCHASE .. .
… edenbray runs several other blogs you might like to visit. You can click on the links below to visit any of these sites :~
edenbray 1 – SITE ‘A’ – the original edenbray blog which began in 2010 and has received over 31,000 hits to date > https://edenbray.wordpress.com
Da’ Bear’s Renamed ‘No-Diet’ Blog – for those who struggle with their weight as I do> https://wordpress.com/view/dabearsyo.wordpress.com
also FOLLOW edenbray on TWITTER > @edenbray8
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edenbray connects with his irish/gaelic roots
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edenbray .. .
a photo gallery .. .
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