Writing

The Blog

  • From different positions, and for different reasons: how do we challenge the efficiency and separation that govern our lives, and the places in which we live?
    On the move When I was young, I was constantly on the move, like many children who clamber, climb, crawl and run about, getting used to the brilliance of their bodies. As I’ve aged (though I’m not that old), I’ve given less time to carefree motion, and focused more on other things, things that either […]
  • Compost for the dream city
    This will be a journey of leaps, of steppingstones. It might be best interpreted as a way of thinking, a model which might imprint odd images onto the general structures that help us see the world. Ready? The graveyard of ambition. Where dreams go to die. These sayings stick in some people’s minds when they […]
  • Connection, experience, value…then lunch
    I bite my nails. I try to be surreptitious when I do this in public but holed up for months under lockdown there was no need to disguise my bad habits. I wrote my dissertation partly about this experience. Much of it was concerned with the identity of places and people. I felt like I […]
  • Closer, but further away
    I do not live in Bath, though I am resident of two studio spaces: EMERGE at Sion Hill and The Studio at Palace Yard Mews, Bath Spa’s Enterprise & Innovation Hub. People work and interact within these studios temporarily, occupying spaces, coming and going. The organisational and spatial structures of these studios encourage an interrupted […]
  • Patterns, everywhere
    Place is a pattern of rhythms. I wrote the start of this on a train. I write this part at the desk in my bedroom. I work from the morning up until lunchtime. Sometimes I work downstairs at the kitchen table. The house is south facing, so the light that comes in through the windows […]
  • The Screaming Seagulls
    Almost the end of March. It is warm and the seagulls are screaming. The sun is turning buildings into blinding instruments. Bottles clink, and I like to think they are filled with alcohol. A shadow passes overhead. That spindly, isolated bit of heather Indicates left. I cannot see the whole of its dance. Someone on […]

Follow My Blog

Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.

%d bloggers like this: