Sluggish

Sounds as it’s felt, feels, heavy lumps of steel pin us down as we drag ourselves through this notion, slow motion movement. Can’t think, shoulders sink to chest want to, rest but wait for this, to play out. There’s four in the garden. A family, their bodies stick to brick by brick by brick leaving…

Responsibility, he said.

On a trip to the lakes – not the ‘North’ as people describe anything above Birmingham, or dare I say Manchester. Keep going. No not Scotland The bit in between Not Newcastle The vast land between – where from my Grandma’s house we’d stand side by side in upstairs windows, craning our necks to see…

Space to grow

I’ve been thinking about this one for a while. But couldn’t quite figure out how I wanted to say it. Or what it really was. A few months ago I was on a train to Bristol – it was busy and I was eating a Leon. And the message came back. I’d also had a…

Space please

Hemmed in by a man in a blue puffed coat Bun skimming the curved edge of the door As we jolt with the turn of the train. On a Monday evening I do Pilates Becoming aware of the natural curvature of my spine And the extent to which I push out the lower lumbare I…

Lunch time musings

Blue sky thinking. Soaring planes and white footprint trails Puncturing clouds on their descent Away from here. Squealing breaks on the rubbish dump truck and black sacks that leak peelings from family dinners. Hands raw from the cold air hold plastic boxes filled with pasta Dry cement sits between bricks stacked knee high in squares…

Smack That, Rhiannon Faith.

Written in response to a show I saw last year. Trawling through the docs on my laptop, and opened it up. Wondering what more we can do.   Fruit cider from paper cups and popcorn handed out in cardboard cones. Teeth furry from a rhubarb and custard sweet, unwrapped within seconds. Champagne or punch they…

Rule breaker

A friend of mine recently asked me ‘What are the rules?’ – A question I’d never given much thought to. Now I’m remembering the importance of asking these questions, of prompting one another to remember. I’m also trying to be braver with my writing – to get it out of the never ending notes on my…

An exchange.

And so it begins, as always, with a conversation. An old housemate, a friend. Sharing a love for ink on the page, words spilling out in unexpected places, at unexpected times. Let’s do this together, we decided. I’ll ask, and you respond. So the exchange begun. At a table for 2 on the second floor…

Aware of it all.

The notes on my phone are cluttered with these – bursts of thought, all spilling out on the tube home. Tuesday, August 20th. Annoyed for not making it in – For not stopping to peer through the window of the cafe that promised words and the girl who reached out. Felt – And not for…

Moving on

I’ve recently moved house – Things weren’t quite what they seemed. I wrote this on Friday evening, eyes wide from wine on board the Northern line home. Then feels different to now. It’s Sunday – a flame flickers and vanilla fills the air. Pass a bottle of wine sings from my speakers and pink lillies…

Ritchie Street

Teenagers smoke under twenty storey flats, whilst the swings of their youth sit patiently waiting for the wind to move them along – like the good old days. Grey looms ahead whilst drops skim my cheeks. The lights are on in a window three floors up and a bottle of red stands alone looking out at…