Summer solstice

It’s the longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, and I’ve just finished what I know will be the best book of 2022: Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson. “You stroke each of the dogs’ heads and watch them cower at your gall. You’re descending at a hellish pace but there’s no fire... Continue Reading →

A holiday adventure

Two words rumble around my dreams all night: ferie and urlaub. Different languages, none of them mine, for the same thing. The 6am alarm dispels the words and whatever meaning they might hold. The drawn up blind reveals a greyer and more humid day outside, like the mystery of the dreams and words clouding over... Continue Reading →

Sunday 8 December 2019. Afternoon

There's a bridge in London between two different kingdoms. One is magically imaginary, the other is brick cold reality. Crossing bridge over the lake in St James's Park, to the east you can hint the rooftops of a city in a another world; Minas Tirith perhaps, or a city yet unnamed and there for you... Continue Reading →

Whuthering Heights

I've always been a Jane Eyre person. When I first read Whuthering Heights I could tell it was the superior novel, but emotionally I've always felt more connected to Jane – a caged bird of a 'free human being with an independent will'. Whatever interpretations I've read of it, from The Wide Sargasso Sea to the short story... Continue Reading →

Meteorological autumn

Robert Macfarlane’s word of the day.    The light is more golden this morning, the hew the leaves will soon turn. But the warmth of summer has returned with nostalgia for the gone as well as longing for the coming. Transition brings both anger and grief. I want to get away as much as I... Continue Reading →

Orenthal James

He transcended race when everyone else was black or was white he was neither and both the Man and a Brother. Athlete and actor, husband and father; handsomely faced, handsomely paid was worshipped on the altar of fame, his high fall heightened by the Dream he personified and his crash landing softened by the Movement... Continue Reading →

A Map Story

The little shit is fast. Faster than me, even though she's smaller. Across the grass, over the flower bush hurdles, slower across the lava of the gravel path, then over the next flower hurdle, and as I pick up pace by the birch trees, CC's gaining. Not good. I'm a year and a half older... Continue Reading →

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