What did you mean?

When I found you, you were ragged. So dusty. Sleeveless in the cold of your neglect. Though metal-rimmed. Built to last. Bumping through the decades, from storage to storage.   But what did you mean? You were and are a demo. So: Did you spark a tryst? Give words to some unspoken love? Why didn’t … More What did you mean?

Beyond the frame of favourite movies

  Beyond the frame, there are the answers. Hidden explanations of tantalising scenes. Those ‘what’s down there’ queries.  The curiosity of ‘who’s that, and why him’? The seductive, inky details that fill in the blanks on my imagination’s map. Those fleeting blinks of spaces and places that make my pupils dilate. These secret places that … More Beyond the frame of favourite movies

Back to Work

  A Treasure Map. In my workaday pockets, brushed by inky, clammy fingertips. Once pristine, lacking any wrinkles. A land to discover. Now dog-eared, yes, but also gilded with love. My memories, awoken by this talisman? Emerald roads, scarlet paths, like veins- All leading to wide- sweeping beaches. Undulating hills with cloud-shadowed flanks, now just sleepy … More Back to Work

Nurture

Early morning Sun lit your strong hands as you cradled the roots. Brows knit in concentration, tenderly lowering the blooms. Patting the soil as softly as I used to dry your tiny, unfurling limbs, when this was your bath. Your deep, Brown eyes look at your handiwork, then duelling crows on our rooftop drew you … More Nurture

Pearlescent

All it took was early Sunday light spilling across the onyx- hemmed pearly squares; fresh bright glaring light picking out the delicate mosaics between them. My son had set up the board within pulsing sunlight from the window, with all the fierce focus and sensuality of the young and keen. Harnessing the beauty of the … More Pearlescent

Brutalism

I love Brutalist Architecture. I love it. I love the size and the shape and the colours (or lack of colours) of it. I feel strongly about it. To me, it is anything but brutal. It is sublime and sculptural, and makes me feel immediately fascinated yet humbled whenever I see it. As an appreciator … More Brutalism

Fire

A friend has asked me to write about Fire. As a subject, I immediately think of it as a double-edged sword. Beautiful and seductive if tamed, though evil and repulsive if left to its own devices. Heavenly or Satanic. Tantalising. I have always felt an affinity with the fellow who asked me to write this, … More Fire

Aberystwyth

I lived on the seafront for two years. For two out of three years of my degree, my calendar was dictated by the waves and seasons. June sunbathing on the stony shore after lectures. November kitchen tea-sipping, whilst  gazing at waves battering Victoria Terrace bringing with them pebbles that strafed the road. Cycling down the … More Aberystwyth

Ralph Vaughan Williams

His music.  Lakeland fells. Inseperable, for me. Overwhelming both, as sunlight emerging from banked clouds. Transported. Once engaged always awed by the scale of rockface or score. To listen is to fly and soar like a bird. Spinning upwards. Turning over.   Pure daydreams. As intense as scaling a peak. Looking down at the world … More Ralph Vaughan Williams