Nine Pictures of Light

I’d been sitting here in the polytunnel reading a novel where a funeral was about to take place in an art gallery. Prince had been singing on my phone, his song about Dorothy Parker fading into ‘High’ by The Blue Nile, when I noticed something strange happening with the light. The blue sky had turned …

The Abbey: At the crossroads

Continuing with what’s turned out to be a day of thinking about crossroads in Wavertree I’ve now spent an hour or so taking photographs of the one around the Picton Clock, a mile or so further out of the city than this morning’s bleak experience at Edge Hill. And we’re not dealing with bleakness at …

Bleak: At the crossroads

I’m standing at the crossroadsBelieve I’m sinking downRobert Johnson The first of a linked pair of crossroads stories. In ancient blues mythology the crossroads would be where the down on their luck likes of Robert Johnson would go to make a deal with the devil, in exchange for their souls. But though I looked for …

On the Garston Shore

This was a cold Easter Monday afternoon walking somewhere Sarah had discovered on her bike a few weeks ago. Or rediscovered really as it’s somewhere we’d come and walk years ago, many years now. Long before it had a sign up and a map announcing itself, back when it was only leftover land where Liverpool …

In Days Full of Silence

On living like a nun and other quiet thoughts In yesterday’s blog post about reading I sort of apologised for not writing much on here lately. And this morning, today being a sort of holiday, I thought I’d say a bit more about what I’ve been doing instead. Which as you can see I’m describing …

Reading Differently

I haven’t written much on this blog in these last few weeks, though I have done a lot of writing of the PhD I’m working on. That’s where I’ve been. Long and early mornings of writing in the polytunnel where I mostly work, followed by afternoons of walking, thinking and reading. Sometimes academic kinds of …