‘Squeeze my hand. Just try. Feel my fingers on the back of your hand. Can you feel them? I’m holding your hand. I’m pressing it gently. You try to do the same back. Good. That’s it. I felt it. I’m going to roll you over on your side now. I’ll do it really, really gently. … Continue reading Where’s John?
Welcome to Monday, the up-and-at-it day underpinned with a note of forced jollity used to chivvy oneself along. It’s easier to start the week when it is bright, like it was this morning, waking, as I did, to a light sifting of snow on which the sunlight bounced to sharpen the blue of the sky. … Continue reading The Personality of Days
I’m talking disappointment that’s not the end of the world, one that’s somewhere between a blow and an inconvenience, yet, when it hits, it feels like the end of the world to you. In it goes to your body to be registered in your bones and muscles, nothing as violent as the proverbial punch in … Continue reading One About Disappointment
I didn’t know burial grounds were so full of life. Cemeteries filled with crumbling stones dating back one hundred, two hundred years, hidden and forgotten places known only by lonely dog walkers, head-dwellers, and retirees, places like Warriston Cemetery where the dead sleep while new growth teems with life. My friend took me there earlier … Continue reading Warriston Cemetery
Bed early one night this week, exhausted from busy day. Body collapsed into deep sleep. Woke at 6am and read more Raymond Carver short stories. Read two in a row, both about alcoholism. ‘Careful’, then, ‘Where I’m Calling From’. Used to have a copy of a thick anthology of that name – ‘Where I’m Calling … Continue reading So What?
I have become accustomed to the online life; even those things I thought I would hate to attend virtually – like an online book festival – it turns out I rather like. Last month, I joined some talks by writers organised by Liverpool’s Writing on the Wall annual festival. One speaker was Ben Okri. There … Continue reading Doubt
Edinburgh is very pretty this morning now with thick snow everywhere, it makes the day seem extra bright. My last post was long, so here's a short one: two poems I've written about snow. Snow, by Eimear Bush Softer than the moon, Dimmer than a torch, Last night it lit my room, I wakened to … Continue reading Thick Snow Everywhere
Kindness is fashionable, thank goodness. Be Kind is emblazoned on t-shirts and pullovers, it is talked about as an attribute, cupped like a new chick in our hands as something we have forgotten but need to rehabilitate and restore into the everyday. This reminder is a good thing – because it is true, we all … Continue reading Old and Wise
I love the part of being home that allows me to meet up with old friends, small reunions that taste so much sweeter after these long months of social confinement. The days of the open door and of ‘come on in’ have not quite returned, but the outdoor replacements – beaches and backyards, park benches … Continue reading Old Friends
Edinburgh is neither boastful nor pompous, which is not to say that this is a modest city. I’m not saying it’s in any way conceited, but I would characterise it as a place that quietly, but most assuredly, knows itself. It is definitely not a city given to swagger. It doesn’t strut like Danny Zuko or wiggle … Continue reading Dressing Up Box
My Edinburgh Press 