Without success, I am trying to write an ending. I have selected some novels from my bookshelf to see how they do it. Welsh (Trainspotting, 1993), Wilde (The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1890) and Woolf (The Waves, 1931) are huddled together at the end of one shelf. I decide that, between the three of them, they should … Continue reading Thinking of Ending It
When children do it, it is said to be normal; their imaginary friends are thought of as the captivating make-believe workings of a lively mind. When grown-ups do it, and are either silly or plucky enough to tell anyone, they are in danger of being looked at askew (at best) or being told to immediately … Continue reading Imaginary Friends
‘Put the phone down and live in the moment!’ – hasn’t that been the refrain for some time now? I get it, and mostly I try to do it. However, from time to time, I do love to excuse myself from the present and become so absorbed in capturing the moment that I’m removed from … Continue reading Orphan Photographs
Hadrian’s Wall: a defensive fortification built by the Romans in AD 122 in the reign of Emperor Hadrian. Coast to coast, it runs for 73 miles from the banks of the River Tynenear the North Sea (a little east of Newcastle) to the Solway Firth on the Irish Sea (a little west of Carlisle). Back … Continue reading Walls Between Us
Small things. That’s what it’s all about. A look, a turn of the head, a word, a phrase, a nod, a smile. Either from a stranger or a friend - it doesn't matter. If you take time to notice the detail, it will always give you pause; take you out of yourself. It might be … Continue reading Detail
I’m better. Pretty much. The fire in my head has been doused. T. told me to drink hot whiskey. I didn’t. Not because it wasn’t a good idea, I just forgot to uncork the bottle of Bush each evening. Y. suggested I gently tap below my eyes, from the bridge of my nose to my temples, tracing the … Continue reading Dream Angus
To pursue whatever you set your mind to with the joy of a six year-old child: that’s said to be how we should seek to live. This supposes that every six-year old child embraces all of life joyfully, which they probably don’t, as personality and nature come into play. Largely, though, small children do seem … Continue reading Innocence
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
Attached to my fridge is a black and white photograph from Hallowe’en 1978. It’s of me and my two sisters standing in the back garden wearing cobbled together costumes. M. is draped in a white sheet with two holes the size of 50p pieces roughly cut out at eye level; the cloth gathered at her waist … Continue reading Samhain
My Edinburgh Press 