Peter Lay - Publications
Yellow Over The Mountain
By Peter Lay & Zaiming Wang
Yellow Over The Mountain is a conversation between two people, dual written in both English and Chinese, about the beginning of an unfinished journey to seek life through aesthetics of art and philosophy.
The journey began in June 2014 with an exchange of ideas by email. However, the words in this book have been mainly taken from text messages and emails between March and June 2016.
It is told in a largely metaphorical way transforming into a philosophical journey of life, love and art in a mythical world where parts of the ‘self’ become animals, people and plants and share a unique relationship with each other against the backdrop of a failed marriage
Such is life.
Both Paperback & Kindle editions of this book can be purchased on Amazon.
Book Cover Design by Jason Conway of Cre8urbrand
'Such Strange Philosophies'
I am pleased to announce the publication of, redbootsman ‘Such Strange Philosophies’. This is a collection of songs, poems and other writings covering a period from 1969 to 2015
Paperback version (ISBN: 9781786109255) available from Amazon.
Thanks to, Steve Lambley (Photo), Sam Dixon (Bootprint), Calvin Williams (Ancient Vegan Proverb), Paul Kalis (Breathe, No Drill (extract), Josephine Lay (Coincidences, Your Face, April 2015)
The essence of living is the not living every moment thinking of the past or the future.
The essence of living is to enjoy each moment unchained to the past with no concern for the future.
It is not that you negate the past or never plan for the future but there are times when you should abandon yourself to the moment.
I’m like a Sybarite – my brain is hard-wired into my sensory perceptions. Each touch of my fingers on the soft flesh of my love brings exquisite pleasure; the thrill of texture and smoothness; of moisture and movement, to caress – to be caressed, is happiness beyond compare.
This is my heaven and I want no more – immortality does not attract or concern me for I can not conceive of an existence without my body; without its senses, without taste, without art, music and love, and the perfumes of life and the richness derived from them.