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Travelling in Place

Or When Does Going Back Turn Into Going Around in Circles? I used to keep a diary. Regularly. Or at least until it became clear that I was using it to carry on conversations with myself. (I used to be schizophrenic, but we’re better now…) So I eventually gave it up...

Hurry up and Wait

Or “That Was Great! Could You Please Repeat It, But Louder This Time?” Back in the thick of the second documentary. Talking about yourself is like handling a sharp sword – you can just as easily stick yourself with it as parry questions and strike deep to the...

Memory Lane

Or Where I Illustrate Walls, Inhabit a Ghost Town and Impersonate a Frenchman, In That Order An old acquaintance just sent me three memories out of the blue from 30 years ago: “One was your bedroom in your parents’ house in Ollalla – you’d wallpapered it in...

Behind the Rain

Or Under the Ridge-Line How I wish I had invented that title.* The month of October is going to be about as full as it can be and still squeeze myself into it. The art book project is nearing completion, I have a painting of Beowulf to do, sketches to deliver, the...