Deena Omar 2009

Stunned to realise my first quote was identical to Steve Long's from Pilgermann. I chose it pretty much at random. I handwrote it and left it, late last night, among some flyers in the 12 Bar Club, Denmark St, in between sets by Satan's Cock and Sergeant Buzfuz. Here it is…

One wakes up every morning and puts on oneself. Everyone has experienced this: the self must be put on before any garment, and there is inevitably a pause as it were a caesura in the going forward of things before the self is put on. Why is this? It is because our mortal identity is not the primary one, not the profound, not the deep one. No, what wakes up from sleep is not Tiglath-Pileser or Peter Schlemiel or Pilgermann; it is simply raw undifferentiated being, brute being with nothing driving it but the forward motion imparted to it by the original explosion into the being of the universe. For a fraction of a moment it is itself only; then it must with joy or terror put on that identity taken on with mortal birth, that identity that each morning is the cumulative total of its mortal days and nights, that self old or young, sick or well, brave or cowardly, beautiful or ugly, whole or mutilated, that is one's lot.

from Pilgermann

Earlier, I tucked the following inside a copy of Bob the Builder comic, in the Camden branch of Sainsbury's. I had been flicking through the Pedalling Man collection and it jumped off the page and threw a snowball at me…

London City

I have London, London, London-
all the city, small and pretty,
in a dome that's on my desk, a little dome.
I have Nelson on his column
and Saint Martin-in-the-Fields
and I have the National Gallery
and two trees,
and that's what London is - the five of these.

I can make it snow in London
when I shake the sky of London;
I can hold the little city small and pretty in my hand;
then the weather's fair in London,
in Trafalgar Square in London,
when I put my city down and let it stand.

from The Pedalling Man

My whole day seemed to oscillate between sweetness and darkness and these words mirrored my feelings perfectly.

Happy (and sweet, and dark,) Hoban Day.

Deena Omar 2008

I 4quated all over the District Line and Fulham! The first yellow sheet was given directly to the amenable woman in the coffee shop at Fulham Broadway tube station who guarded Gundula's bouquet while I went to the lav. I placed it on her table just before I left and didn't hang around to see what she did with it. The second in the lavatory of the Metro tapas bar on Effie Road (in which Adrian and myself raised a glass or several to Russ and his past, his present, his future and the moment in the moment and all of the moments that will be - in the bar that is, not the lavatory). The third on a leaflet stand outside Nicolas Off Licence on Harwood Road. The fourth on the District Line platform at Earl's Court on one of those metal boxes that sit there (don't ask me what's inside them; one of the many mysteries of the London Underground). The fifth on an eastbound tube, tucked into the edge of the window frame. The sixth was back in Camden, near a checkout in Sainsbury's. At that point, I reflected on my 4quations and felt jolly pleased with them. I declared the seventh 4quation one of rest and and irreverence; I tucked it inside My Tango with Barbara Strozzi which I dropped into Adrian's workbag when he wasn't looking.

There is only one place, and that place is time.

from The Lion of Boaz-Jachin and Jachin-Boaz

Deena Omar 2007

For some reason, I got stuck in my own stillness on Sunday and spent the day re-reading most of Her Name was Lola and huge chunks of Pilgermann. The latter sent me into a strange dark space as it always does. On Monday, happily, my stillnesses blurred into motion. Can't resist Underground quotes - I love 'em, I sometimes feel like I live on the bloody London Underground, I'm in a long-term dysfunctional relationship with it. Here's my first quote:

Sometimes in the underground I close my eyes and the sound of the wheels on the rails and the surging and swaying of the carriage become the rolling passage in the darkness of my mind.

from The Bat Tattoo

This was left under a copy of Metro on a northbound Northern Line tube just before I got off at Kings Cross, and another copy of same was left tucked into the leaflet rack behind a leaflet about Oystercards.

My second choice was:

We are all of us a succession of stillnesses blurring into motion on the wheel of action.

from Fremder

One copy left on a pile of photocopy paper in my staff workroom, the other amongst leaflets in the waiting room of my audiology clinic where I went to get my hearing aid fixed (only the best people wear them, you know).

All had the sa4qe url, book title and Russ's name on them.

Seem to have wheels on my mind this year.

Both choices were partly inspired by Olaf's gorgeous graphics.

No idea if anyone found them.

Deena Omar 2006

London 2006. My first SA4QE. Kleinzeit was my first Hoban book. My first 4qate was the first mention of the yellow paper. Seemed fitting to place it somewhere in the underground, so I carefully tucked it into the edge of the map of the underground on the northbound platform of the northern line at Mornington Crescent. It looked great in all its yellow glory and I felt sure that, despite the emptiness of the platform at that moment, someone would soon come along and not be able to resist reading it. However, the train brought with it an enormous gust of air (as it always does) and, as I boarded, I noticed my yellow paper diving off the map, swirling about madly for a moment before landing gracefully on the floor, still clean on both sides and as yet unstepped-on.

Kleinzeit got out of the train, poured into the morning rush in the corridor. Among the feet he saw a sheet of yellow paper, A4 size, on the floor, unstepped-on. He picked it up. Clean on both sides. He put it in his attaché case. He rode up on the escalator, looking up the skirt of the girl nine steps above him. Bottom of the morning, he said to himself.

from Kleinzeit

This next one I couldn't resist. Camden Town is my local tube station, the one I use almost everyday. The station was packed with weekend visitors and tourists and the usual Saturday afternoon mania. I just had time to place the paper next to the `Please stand on the right' sign at the bottom of the escalators before the wind seemed to carry me, the crowds, the escalators and, for all I know, the yellow paper, up and up into the light.

Camden Station is the windiest tube station I know. Coming up on the escalator with my hair flying I felt as if I was coming out of a dark place into the light, and I laughed because that's what I was actually doing.

from Turtle Diary

Leaving the windiest of tube stations, I headed for the Ladies public toilets situated on the traffic island at the bottom of Camden Parkway. The stairs lead me once more underground, to the entrance and a No Loitering sign. In a cubicle, amongst a flattened empty can of Red Bull and a discarded needle, I loitered awhile then placed the following:

There aint that many sir prizes in life if you take noatis of every thing. Every time wil have its happenings out and every place the same. What ever eats mus shit.

from Riddley Walker

My intention was for the next 4qate to happen in St. Michael's Church on Camden Road, near the station. I sensed I would need to be particularly furtive 4quating in a church. It was not meant to be, however, as the church was closed, so the following quote ended up folded and placed between `A history of African Christianity 1950 – 1975' and `Laboratory Earth' in the MIND second hand shop just over the road. I like to think it was very happy there.

There is a mystery that even God cannot fathom, nor can he give the law of it on two stone tablets. He cannot speak what there are no words for; he needs divers to dive into it; he needs wrestlers to wrestle with it, singers to sing it, lovers to love it. He cannot deal with it alone, he must find helpers, and for this does he blind some and maim others.

from Pilgermann

My last 4qate, also from Pilgermann, was in the monstrous and soul free zone that is the Barbican Centre. I had intended this quote for a cinema, but ended up here for a concert and putting it behind something by Kafka in Farringdon's (the bookshop). Like all the others, the quote was followed by Russ' name, relevant book title and the SA4QE url. So, somewhere in here is the story of my first SA4QE.

One of the great things about the Kraken is not always needing to explain.

…a story is what remains when you leave out most of the action; a story is a coherent sequence of picture cards: One: Samson in the vineyards of Timnah; Two: the lion comes roaring at Samson; Three: Samson tears the lion apart. That's a story but actually the main part of the action may have been that there was a butterfly in Samson's field of vision the whole time. The picture cards don't show the butterfly because if they did they would have to explain it. But you can't explain the butterfly.

from Pilgermann

Happy Birthday Mr. Hoban. Happy Birthday Kraken.

Love Deena

Deena Omar - profile

Some-Poasyum quiz winner, London