I broke my tooth last night. Now my tongue runs along a jagged edge and it just doesn’t feel right. Afterwards, my concentration was lost and I burned my arm against a scalding hot pan. The burn overlaps a previous scar, from a previous accident. I am thinking a lot about the marks the body acquires as it passes through time and space. 28 looms large. I still have 4 limbs and am able to practice for hours a time. Escaping serious injury, I have survived my time in London remarkably unscathed.
Maybe this due to my superior sword skills. I am currently studying the Qing Ping system of swordspersonship. LimaZulu scents the air with a heady but necessary dose of political correctness. The tassel arrived for my sword today, it is Sky Blue. A Sky Blue Life by Maxim Gorky still on the shelf. Tomorrow, a pair of Vanilla Black-Outs will arrive for Onyeka. They should enhance her game. I use the tassel to wipe away the blood of my enemies. Crimson blood and sky blue silk will make a suitably elegant and fitting end to life…
And so I notice a dark London shadow stalking my every footfall. I spend a lot of time over on Northumberland Park.
You can see the tip of the Shard from Tottenham. An altercation, he unsheaths his sword. I grab the shard from the distance and ward off my detractor.
Increasingly, the residents of LimaZulu are being given the same haircut. It is known as the LimaZulu Cut. A likeness of outputs, I suppose is to be expected. Into the mix we go and arrive out on Hermitage Road, fresh-faced and content but still angry with the world. I wonder where the aforementioned hermitage was. Certainly, I have been reading about the history of The Sheikh Nazim Al-Haqqani Sufi Mosque on St Ann’s Road, which was used as a training space for some serious Seni Silat Haqq Melayu back in the 1990s. The other public spaces where this Silat was taught were Tottenham Green Leisure Centre and Palmers Green Park. All of this from Douglas S. Farrar’s gorgeous Shadows of the Prophet: Martial Arts and Sufi Mysticism. The building here became a traveller’s lodge (Zawiya) where a man called Pa’ Ariffin began teaching Silat. From Farrar’s book: “Advertising was condemned as a ploy used by those who commoditised martial arts to make money. There was an implicit critique of capitalism in the creation of a boundary between the alienated realms of commercial activity and the sacred realm of silat training,” (page 210). Farrar describes the old convent as “a large Victorian building with dirty red brick walls… [a] maze of cold stone and hard wood, with multiple staircases and dozens of corridors giving access to halls, offices, apartments, and classrooms…” (page 200).
I remember the old St Ann’s Convent in Stoke Newington, just over the road from the primary mystical experience… This structure didn’t fare so well.
Though Chartered Town Planning and Development Consultants Brooke Smith Planning note that the “scheme required careful negotiations with English Heritage but has resulted in a stunning new flagship property…” So that’s alright then.
I talked at Re-Drawing the Maps. A presentation on Bagua Armswings on the Friday night. I think that all who attended had a good time.