There are mornings when the page is so brilliant white that to make a mark is terrifying. Sometimes the best that I can do is begin to write without thinking and allow the words to flow without any conscious meaning. The purpose is to make the mark. To blot the page. To scratch some words [...]

Daydream believer Fantasy weaver Narcissistic deceiver Receptive receiver Conceptual cleaver Saturday Night Fever Lean on the leaver Loving the diva

Friggatriskaidekaphobia is the big word for the fear of Friday 13th.The word itself is more frightening than the day I would say. I think that the chances of things happening that could be regarded as ‘bad luck’ are possibly increased due to people changing their routine and behavior due to friggatriskaidekaphobia rather than any real [...]

one door closes another door opens knock knock who’s there? opportunity opportunity who? opportunity knocks

spaced out round about faith’s doubt sound it out let it go live it slow watch it grow where we go hollow moon shone too soon sun can croon sung in tune bite the dust cause a fuss needs must who to trust? closed door dance floor ask for more that’s for sure can’t wait [...]

Today is the anniversary of the birthday of French Philosopher (and more) Michel Foucault (15.10.26 – 25.06.84) which prompted a bit of nonsense in my head; A philosophical man once said I would like to get into my head when he finally did he confronted his id and spent the rest of his days in [...]

there was an old man from somewhere who wondered about into nowhere at considerable cost he found he was lost until in the end he arrived there

I fall I fail I swim I sail I screw the nail a bucket or pail on the road or rail to the top and tail in gush and gale I hi you hail we tried the trail up and down the dale for the holy grail the rod the rail tell a tall tale [...]

I know this blog was intended to be about me writing something every day this year but on this occasion all I could muster was this doodle. Sometimes this is how I feel – like a jug head. A bit like one of those old fashioned Toby Jugs and I’m full to overflowing with ‘stuff’. [...]