Jun 04 0 comments
literature

no, i’m not leaving exactly as i came.

When Hans took his first step away from her, Sophie cried
out: ‘Wait.’ He wheeled round.

‘Thank you.’

‘I was thinking of saying the same to you. Thank you.’

Hans walked down Glass Alley. His shadow glided from one
window to the next. Sophie stood watching him and her eyes
felt cold. She was still aware of the pang in her gut she had been
feeling since she arrived at the café, yet she felt strangely content.

She hurried down two streets until she caught up with Elsa.
He strode towards the market square. Looked at from above,
from a high balcony or a slit window in the Tower of the Wind,
they might have seemed like two insignificant creatures, two
flecks on the snow. Looked at from the ground, they were two
people weighed down by life.

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May 28 0 comments
doodlings, photography

the moon is hanging in the purple sky.

June is imminent, which can only be a good thing [despite the weather's attempt to convince us otherwise] as it promises a crop of delights. John Power is paying an acoustic-clad visit to my hometown [for me alone, surely], there’s another flirtation with The Stone Roses to be had on some big London plain, plus an inevitably brilliant reunion with that little-known Somerset farm at the month’s end. Even my anorak’s excited, frankly. Meanwhile, I beg, do walls get any better than this?

May 09 0 comments
music

He looked at me with a funny face and said,
‘Are you sure you wanna go just any place?’
I said, ‘If you ever loved someone the way I loved that man,
surely, Mr Ticket Agent, you could understand?’

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May 07 0 comments
photography

please remember: my life is in your hands.

Apr 27 0 comments
photography

well i followed her to the station with a suitcase in my hand.

April. Food (as ever), booze (as ever ever), weather (at last), streets (only the best). Photos below. Do enjoy! Meanwhile, I’m very much looking forward to May. It’ll bring more of the above/below, plus the birthday of the year and some much-longed-for visitors. And as for June, I am yet to find the words.

 

 

 

Apr 18 0 comments
music

Apr 13 0 comments
literature

I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafés and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring. Suddenly to care very much and to sleep to wake with it sometimes morning and all that had been there gone and everything sharp and hard and clear and sometimes a dispute about the cost. Sometimes still pleasant and fond and warm and breakfast and lunch. Sometimes all niceness gone and glad to get out on the street but always another day starting and then another night. I tried to tell about the night and the difference between the night and the day and how the night was better unless the day was very clean and cold and I could not tell it; as I cannot tell it now. But if you have had it you know.

Tags: ,
Apr 04 0 comments
doodlings

but the key was mine
(i keep a spare one every time)

Pipelines, super-sized Sunday roasts (thank/you/Jesus), rush hour headphones, friends like you wouldn’t believe, breakfast beers, trainers, rum carafes, Neal Street, fresh garms, still snowing, back to Big Hands (William, it was really nothing), porn star martinis, champagne sorbet, giggly mornings, train journeys, hope, side streets, cava in bed, dearest Manchester, new girl syndrome, this is for lovers (running away just for today), lock, stock, and two smoking barrels. That’s about all life’s saying these days.

Mar 29 0 comments
doodlings

Last night is a smoky blur – another session at the pub with Klaus
and his friends. But this is not one of those hangovers where you write the
day off to darkness. It is the more interesting kind, where destroyed
synapses are reconstructing themselves, sometimes missing their old paths
and making odd, new connections. I remember things I haven’t remembered
before – things that do not come out of the ordered store of
memories I call my past.

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Mar 27 0 comments
doodlings

above there are no stars tonight,
just northern skies – reflected light upon your face.
people think stars rule our lives,
some people they think otherwise – they can be replaced.

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