-
robot serendipity
Thinking about yesterday’s blog post about items in one’s home that have meaning, it reminded me of a funny incident that happened to me back in 2010. I was on my way to London, and stopped in a café (which is no longer in existence) to get a decent meal into me before the cavalcade of airport security, waiting rooms, flight, collecting luggage, train journey, and bus jaunt that would deliver me to my destination. The café was one of those cool joints with books and nifty knick-knacks arranging in pleasing ways, and I spotted this diorama of objects. (This has subsequently become of my favourite photos, so I was…
-
adorning our lives
Over the years I’ve become increasingly careful about what new items I bring into my home. I’ve spent several years paring back book collections and ornaments to remove anything I don’t truly appreciate. I established my simple formula before Marie Kondo’s Spark Joy became a revolution, but from what I understand (as I haven’t read the book) it gels quite closely to her system. I ask myself is the item 1) functional or 2) beautiful? If it’s both it’s unimpeachable, but it should hit one of these criteria. What is lovely to one person is hideous to another, therefore this is a wholly personal exercise. I’m not entirely without sentiment,…
-
at home
I visited my parents for a couple of days recently. They have a lovely home and a beautiful garden, thanks to the hard work of both my parents. My mother had a small arrangement in a little vase by the kitchen window, which looked amazing in the sunlight. The weather is completely bipolar at the moment – one minute happy, glorious sunshine, and the next moment despairing grey skies and hailstones! All aided by gusting wind. But, whenever we had sun I tired to take advantage and snap some images. The close up of that flower display was magical when the light hit it right. When I had a small…
-
trampling virgin soil
Today is a good mail day. Not only did I get a cheque for my short story “Home” from Tim Deal at Shroud Magazine, but I received the latest edition of Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, which is always cause for celebration. It contains a new story by Maureen F. McHugh, whose molecules are imbued with awesome, and whose writing always pulses with genuine emotion. I can’t wait to read it, and the other work by an impressive line-up of talented writers. In the meantime I’m enjoying my stint in research-world, one of my favourite places to explore. Sometimes I discover entire new continents, and stand upon the shore breathless at…
