(My) ‘Old Man of the Sea’ Part of a greater body of work I am on the cusp of… with writings unfolding, and words intertwined. Sea spray and weather worn, like the rocks tumbled in the oceans. Softened and storm sculpted. My dad has spoken to me… in riddle and in clarity… these last months. So grateful
“Onwards to pass home. Stopping as skylarks spotted. Rising from field. A flitter of wing, whirring in vertical lift. As they do… then song ascending.” My Aberdeenshire, Tifty childhood home, surrounded by arable landscape. Farmland fields, with crops in rotation. Ground nesting birds. Stubble fields upon harvest. Grasses blown in breeze. The soft “shush” as the wind passed through
Best friends for me, are for life. I’ve one best friend who has pretty much been in my life FOREVER. From primary 3 all the way through… and still now. Bike rides, playing on hay bales, building dams in streams… to barn dances and road trips… holidays and daft funny drunken nights… Through all of it. One of the
The day my daughter finished primary school, we got ready as normal. Ate breakfast, and with radio playing, just as we were away to leave the house, a song came on. When I Grow Up, from the musical Matilda. As a wee one, my eldest watched Matilda on repeat. Transfixed by the story. The characters. The warmth of
May has been filled with many magical moments. Beginning the month with a trip to Toppings in St Andrew’s for a book talk with Angela Harding. A printmaker and writer, Angela’s work and story is hugely inspiring for me. Lovely to get the chance to chat and converse with her. Nights such as this enliven our spirits. A ladybird
The life of me, felt a little much in April. I chose to find a sanctuary in my creative space. Hiding away in my studio, and drawing, painting and writing a great deal. The tiniest of details, bringing the quiet I required. I have used, for many years now, my art and my writing, as a form of creative outlet.