It was J.’s idea to go. I would have missed it, or should I say, overlooked it, as I walk past there all the time. However, whilst I like to think I take in my surroundings, it seems I’m beginning to become blind to what’s in front of me. It was a photography exhibition in … Continue reading Photograph In A Drawer
“It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won't see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew I turned my face away And dreamed about you” (Fairytale of New York, The Pogues) “Is anyone going to help me peel this bottomless bag … Continue reading Can’t Make It All Alone
‘Life can only be understood backwards, but it can only be lived forwards.’ These are the words of Søren Kierkegaard, Danish philosopher, theologian and poet. I was at a conference last week where one of the speakers, from Denmark, drew extensively from the work of Kierkegaard. When he told us he was going to delve … Continue reading Young and Old
I’m finding it hard to let go of the weekend. It was such a lovely one, pink whipped morning skies and trails of orange cloud by evening; the evening (when measured by the availability of light) being 3.30pm. Neither my mind nor body have quite made it to Monday and I’m hankering to be back … Continue reading Pigs Might Fly
In both the religious and the secular world, November is the month of remembering the dead: the ordinary dead, the glorious dead, the forgotten dead. Remembrance Sunday fell this month and people are still wearing their poppies (a smattering of white now joining the red). They are probably worn for different reasons: to respectfully call … Continue reading Past Glories
I’m back in Ireland for a visit, on the windy north coast. Two years ago I was jettisoned back here, life interrupted, everything suspended after K. died. It was an unreal time, those early months. Your world contracts to the size of a snow globe, sometimes calm, but often shaken – those little white flecks making … Continue reading Those We Miss
I wonder about the point of writing letters to one’s younger self. Have you come across it? This fad of passing advice backwards down the years; bestowing the benefits of hindsight to the younger you, to the he or she who no longer exists? I came across a selection of snappy one-liners from a broadsheet newspaper … Continue reading Nostalgia
I’m beginning to see Edinburgh as my town. Beginning to. The crowds have descended for the festival, and, as I weave my way through them, I think: “I live here. I know where I’m going (geographically speaking), while most of these people don't. I’ll still be here on Tuesday 28thAugust, when they’ve all disappeared like … Continue reading Our Town
I re-watched ‘Before Sunrise’ recently. It’s the first in a trilogy of films by Richard Linklater, each set (and filmed) ten years apart. In the first film (set in the mid-nineties), a young couple meet on a train and, in a spontaneous gesture of youthful foolishness and adventure, disembark at Vienna and stay up all … Continue reading Girls On Trains
No matter how much I cull my packing when I go on holiday, I always bring too much. I’m getting better, but I am slow to learn that three weeks away does not mean three times the clothes; really it doesn’t (emphasis for my own sake). And, since I’ve been abroad, not once have I thought, … Continue reading Attachment
