Category Archives: writing

Blog of the month

Federation of Writers Scotland have a feature called ‘Blog of the month’, and I’m delighted that this month’s blog is Subjects, objects, verbs. FWS’s editor asked me this:

“… you have provided a brief note on the blog’s genesis, I wonder if you could expand that a bit – what your aim is in creating the blog, how do you hope it might affect readers?”

That’s an excellent shot across the bows, I thought! Straight to the heart of the matter – just what am I doing here, friends, and what are you getting out of it?

I had a long think, and tried to write a reply that was honest, and as b.s. free as I could manage. You can read my reply here…

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drawing breath

Trees can be very big, and some of them are very old. Their character and way of life is complex, in many ways hidden, and very different from our own. They can make us pause and they can make us gasp.

drawing breath is a collection of twelve poems arising from a collaboration with visual artist Tansy Lee Moir.

I’ve made booklet with the poems, some photographs, and some of Tansy’s drawings, and I’ve also made a series of recordings of readings.  Hope you like them!

You can find links to all of these and more about our collaboration here.

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step

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the walker gliding
vertical
between
then
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&
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then
the cursor sliding
rules
a moment
now
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Stravaigin’ the scrow

handleHow long is the scroll? Continue reading


52: a bucketful of permission…? 

Review: ‘The Very Best of 52’ Edited by Jonathan Davidson, Jo Bell & Norman Hadley. Nine Arches Press, July 2015.

 

bucket_and_spade-1I have a confession to make when it comes to poetry … I’m a bit of a slow reader. Generally collections of poetry aren’t that long, but it usually takes me quite a while to work through a whole book of poems.  I tend to dip in and manage to read one or two poems at best and then need to stop for a while.

I find the same thing with visual art – I’m not one of these people who can readily hoover up three galleries in a day.  When you find yourself walking briskly past a Caravaggio with barely a sideways glance, I think it’s probably time to stop. Actually, the stopping ideally happens in front of the painting. But long enough in front of enough art, and I’m simply done for the day. If my brain is a bucket, it must just be less like the kind that they use in open cast mining, and more like the sort you take to the beach… Continue reading