Category Archives: Biography

To walk visible…at last

Was your fierce teenage femininity woken up and crystallised by Emily Brontë’s “Wuthering Heights”? Mine certainly was. I know I’ve thought of re-reading “Wuthering Heights” many times over the years – what stopped me, caused hesitation? Did I fear disappointment with what engaged me so as a girl like when you try to visit the most magical books of childhood and they’re just not the same, am I more squeamish of the dark than I used to be, or was it the thought of comparison…with where I am now…that I most dreaded? For, where is my inner Cathy, where are my wild moors; have I sold my life out to the Lintons, made nice and put wild plaything away? Or am I still promising them to myself “tomorrow”? Continue reading

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A week in Wales day one: “Pause – Rewind – Play”

A subtle change in geography for a week has gifted me an action replay of the changing season from woody Winter into vividest Springtime. It makes me realise how much we get to enjoy that moment of pure, poised potential when we stop rushing forwards all the time; to appreciate that unique moment of held-breath before exhalation, of dynamic stillness “just before” something occurs, when the possibility of it “happening” first makes itself known and yet hasn’t…yet. Like a delicious pause in the progression of our own evolution, we get to hold both the “before” and “after” in the same moment, a perfect dovetail joint of both and to know all of it as a complete picture, just as Source gets to experience it, outside of time and space. We get to sense the absolute perfection in all of it; all the variables, the possibilities, the before and afters, the stages in between. Our lives are a continuous progression of such moments of pure potential…if we but knew how to recognise them (as Nature does her best to show us)… Continue reading

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Woken up by Roy…again

“The goddess of the wishing well…the sweetest mystery I ever saw wandering the paradise that was the day before” but then “I became a god of thieves and sold the sunlight, burned the leaves, I killed for fun, shattering a paradise, living on the run. So came the storm and we were blown another age from hearth and thrown upon a whim, I threw my only chance away, tore her limb from limb”. Celebrating exactly thirty-eight years since Roy Harper (who doesn’t mince his words when he talks about the thrashing, bashing and banishing of the divine famine) woke me up (the first time) at age nine, his music becoming its own gentle summer stream coursing through the landscape of my life.
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When you lose something you find something

Talking about a day of two loses on a very different scale and yet all strangely synchronistic…joined together by a song lyric. And there’s nothing like the “loss” of a living artist (though their offerings live on and on) to bring their work and motivations sharply into focus as we are suddenly inundated with retrospectives of their life’s output via every cultural channel there is; its like everything they were about is suddenly distilled down into an extraordinarily potent brew that we all get to take a sip of (if we choose to). So, maybe saturation in the mentality of an artist who never feared his most obscure offerings being ridiculed or rejected is just what is called for right now in a culture where popularity is courted as a measure of artistic success; a timely reminder that our best output, most probably, lies in a dark room from which we create our own version of light in a state of oblivion as far as the opinions of others are concerned and with no sense of an audience peering in at us. Maybe true creative genius is only unleashed once we learn to please ourselves above all others… Continue reading

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New perspectives on a woman’s prime

My mother always used to say that she never felt a day over 27 and, true to form, lived bizarrely devoid of any sense of being a particular age right up until she was diagnosed with cancer of the liver … Continue reading

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The making of an artist

For some time now, I’ve had a half-formed post just hovering there without the words having arrived… All I had to build it on were some photos from the galleries taken on my recent visit to Nottingham Castle Museum in … Continue reading

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Four legs (and a pair of wings)

This morning, through it was raining, I had in mind to head off on one of the long forest walks I often do but to take a different path to usual. With the new splurge of energy and good health … Continue reading

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Newness breezes in

This morning, I feel like Virginia Woolf in ‘The Hours’ (which I rewatched just the other night); with misted look in my eyes, I find I want to announce “I believe I may have a first sentence”. And this is … Continue reading

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Journey home

Settling back into my writing, this rainy September, I seem to have been waylaid by yet another movie just begging to become the subject of a post and that’s fine, I’m off in the flow and if that’s where the … Continue reading

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