‘where moth doth not corrupt’ My memories of Yugoslavia are like gold in that they will not tarnish. Unlike the whale bones in the Hvalsalen in Bergen that Kathleen Jamie writes about in Sightlines, they don’t gather dust. They don’t … Continue reading
Tuesday. It snowed a lot on sunday, after friday’s snow had half melted and the streets and pavements were dark and dirty, and it’s still here, still white, though it mostly dripped off the branches in yesterday’s brief sun. Yesterday … Continue reading
Here’s a story with a good and easy ending (easy to tell), but I haven’t worked out how to tell the middle. I went to give blood a few years ago, at the anonymous, cosmopolitan donor centre in the West … Continue reading
“This morning I woke up at 10.30 – gone downstairs, she’s doing the mail. –any mail? You’ll have to come back in an hour’s time. Walked round the block – go back – we’re doing change over, come back at … Continue reading
The sculpture makes you aware of the extraordinary self absorption of those who sit or lean or put their bags and rubbish on it. And there are now four big wheelie bins along side.
This gallery contains 17 photos.
the little girl with the cautionary tales of Struwelpeter the girl almost hidden the girl abused inside and outside the glassthe girl with a strangerFA girl and new threat to SvenHeidiAttention Smokers! the new childrensame old rubbish posing
My grandfather and his cardinal texts moved in with us soon after he began to lose his mind. It must have been at the beginning of the 1960’s. One of the lessons the old school master liked to repeat was … Continue reading
 | judith on when the wheels come off |
 | MYna on … |
| Myna on A dream come true (and an easy… |
| Myna Trustram on into the past again, naturally… |
 | jonathan trustram on Ely Diary |
like a little black book 