Five people holding hands and dancing in a circle. Dance (La Danse) is a 1910 painting by Matisse. The bodies are painted red, they dance on a mound of green, the backdrop behind them (sky?) is blue, and they are naked. The colours are vibrant – two primary colours, one secondary – and the simple, primitive style … Continue reading Gotta Dance
‘Bomb the hill, bomb the hill!’ He scoots off. ‘What’s he saying?’ I ask the dad. ‘He’s saying he wants to bomb the hill.’ So, I had heard correctly. ‘He’s two years old and can barely say my name, but he can say ‘bomb the hill’? You need to go to parenting classes. What does … Continue reading Bomb Hills Not Countries
We’re not quite done with it yet, but as good as. Just a couple more days and we’ll be into a new year with fresh challenges. Are you glad to see the back of 2020, or were there some things about the year that surprised you and that you secretly quite liked?
‘That's the trouble with reality, it's taken far too seriously.’ It’s a line from a song that’s trapped in my head, dancing around in there as I encourage its sentiment to take root. Back in the nineties an Irish band called An Emotional Fish had a hit song, ‘Celebrate’ and that’s what the line is … Continue reading The Trouble With Reality
Social isolation – no difference there then! C. said that to me last month when we were teetering on the edge of the lockdown and we laughed in mutual understanding, each of us paid up members of the Loner’s Club; that not so exclusive band of members who spend too much of the week hanging … Continue reading Few and Simple Pleasures
Having been alerted to my own haphazard use of the full stop I now see it abused everywhere. There is one particular book I am reading. In this book it is placed most unconventionally. Places where you wouldn’t expect. Everywhere. Are full stops. Littered with profligacy. Strewn. Thoughtlessly. Needless to say, it’s driving me mad, … Continue reading You Never Learn To Do It
I passed a man on the street this morning walking towards me with a cardboard box over his head. It was a huge one. I can only guess at what it once contained – a microwave oven or a shipment of bananas or a consignment of flat pack garden furniture – but this morning, as … Continue reading There Are Worse Things
Yesterday, in the Scottish Poetry Library, a lady with a carrying voice and hair the colour of candyfloss was telling stories to a group of children. Both her hair and her voice, I discovered through close watching, were useful in commanding the children’s attention. The hair was a wig, of course, and the voice had … Continue reading Powerful Pink
“Could you send me the name of the wine you brought when you came for dinner the other night?” Ping. Back came an immediate response: “Canny Mind.” Gone are the days of wines being named after the vineyard, the land where the grapes are grown or the winemaker himself. Château Des Maures, Cloudy Bay and … Continue reading Canny Mind
How often have you heard it said, in hushed tones, through gritted teeth: ‘X is driving me round the bend’? It’s a common one, isn't it? Certain people press your buttons; their words, attitude, and general droning on drives you nuts, yet the person next to you is unaffected, it rolls off them like rain … Continue reading Round The Bend
My Edinburgh Press 