2018

the sounds of 2018

operatic voices rising, my own included, then falling away
the whirr and grind of the sanding machine
the builder rolling paint onto the walls: up, down, up, down while I worked in the other room
the purr of an engine as I turned on the car and started to drive
screech and yank and bang of furniture moving and plumbing
floorboards giving a sharp loud smack as I pulled them up
beeping hospital machines (I thought I was done with those)
the murmur of danish tv shows
the blissful sound of silence
a finally tuned piano
my first strum of a guitar
and, towards the end, the new cat miaowing and galloping around. Read more

30 Questions

Pinched from the wonderful Abby Norman, whose book I read earlier this year and found very relatable. She asks herself these questions once a year so I thought I’d do the same, using them to kick of the month of reflective posts I usually write as we approach the end of the year.  Read more

A Decade On…

I turned thirty this year, and uncharacteristically for me I both spoke about it and celebrated it a little bit. In the course of reflecting on leaving my twenties, I thought about some of the things I’d done over the last few years, and it turned out there were a lot of them.

As the end of the year creeps closer I always find myself reflecting on what I’ve done over the last twelve months and what I might like to do over the next twelve. However, in the words of Bill Gates, “Most people overestimate what they can do in one year and underestimate what they can do in ten years.” I really saw this clearly when I looked back over the last decade: there were a few patches of time in which I felt I wasn’t doing much, or moving forward with my life, but when I reflected on the decade as a whole I realised how much I’d got done.  Read more

2017

the sights of 2017

the grey sofa covered in grey blankets, and grey me lying there greyly
half-stripped wallpaper
a purple laptop with flickering screen, nestling amongst white bedclothes
a piano covered in dustsheets
plants at the end of the bath, fronds dangling near my toes
the glaring bright of the bathroom light: an attack
my face in the mirror, a white death mask
hospital monitors
candle flames
and smoke rising from a cauldron.

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