the stage stands, cold and bare. tonight there are no decorations, no enraptured audience waiting for the performer who waits in the wings. she stands on tiptoe, eyes on the clock of her smartphone, patient and tentative. she's in jeans and a white t-shirt, as dressed down as she can make herself. this is supposed… Continue reading patience

like a tea kettle

water drips down the side of the tea kettle as it fills under the tap, making a quick hissing  sound as it's placed on the stove-top to boil. the condensation forms fast, tiny water drops spilling over and slicing ribbons through the sheen of water. in the next room, she's talking. she hisses an emphasis… Continue reading like a tea kettle

tracing paper

the sketchbook is splayed across the table, thin gauzy papers stacked in a bundle several inches tall. the pages have worn smooth, soft, as if from years of being handled and rehandled; the cover stained with a coffee splash and various ink scribbles from testing pens. it's an imitation of paper at this stage, lightly… Continue reading tracing paper

a kitchen tale

i'm working through the kitchen cupboards, piling the tables high with ingredients and sifting through them to find the right combination. it was originally intended as a birthday cake, but then i realized i had got the month wrong - now, it's going to be a "just because" cake. actually, on reflection, cupcakes might work… Continue reading a kitchen tale

in transit

she's a wanderer. she leaves traces of herself everywhere that she goes, trailing bits of forgotten stories like silk scarves trailing on the wind - perfume hangs in the air when she exits a room, toothbrushes bought in bulk and left like some sort of dental gingerbread path. in the evening is her favourite time… Continue reading in transit

Letters to Euturpe: 60

I think I might be getting a cold. My throat's been scratchy today, which is never fun. On the bright side of things I received in a small shipment of wool today, which is always fun. I've just loomed a few more rows of a hat, and this wool is very thick - it does wonderful… Continue reading Letters to Euturpe: 60

scrabbling at tile (400)

the tiles are stacked, five deep, in rows around the room. if i unfocus my eyes they become towers, columns of origin unknown, narrowing down the room into a tiny cell-like space. this is what i get for buying them two or three at a time when there's space on the credit card, and laying… Continue reading scrabbling at tile (400)