A dull colourless sort of day, early December, large wet flakes of snow drifting idly to the ground, then mostly surrendering themselves on contact.No sun. This morning I read Devotion by Patti Smith, an intimate and intriguing look into writing…
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You know August can sometimes feellike the cruelest month,even though it’s not got the harshnessof winterthe sometimes colourless, bleak and bitter coldthat will comeit just has a transitional feelof things about to changeof letting goof losingthat for some reason finds…
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You know, I tell himI think I am on the edge of dark and lightthe very top of that damn roller coasterand I am holding on for dear lifefingers over eyesuh-oh.. he saysyeah, says I two days ago, I tell…
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I wanted to write something today,but I haven’t had the timeI find if I don’t get started early,it’s too easy to get caught up in thoughts of what really should get done anxiety is highthat’s where I would startI know…
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