The tongue is more akin to a lasso than a harpoon, The way it winds itself round words. Some tie knots in strings and cherry stems, but this wet mouth-dwelling muscle of mine Weaves spells with slight and sinew. In my nose, right now, is the smell of the dark over my primary school on… Continue reading Weds 14th Oct ’20, 20:08.
Today, I am trying my best to have a duvet day. I emphasise "trying", as I can't adequately say how hard I find it to relax. Even if I seem calm, it's rare that I feel I truly am: there are always varying degrees of disquiet simmering beneath the skin, I so often feel that… Continue reading Friday 25th Sept ’20- Diary.
'Britishness, Race And Identity: Let's Talk', an earlier incarnation of which lives on this blog, published by Asian Woman Festival on their blog. Immensely grateful to contribute and be able to work with the incredible humans in this courageous, innovative space. Keep your eyes peeled and go show them some love!!
* I carry in my face the same disquiet as my grandmother.The same clenched tension in the jaw,teeth pressed together like they're mouldingindents in clay- When I took this photograph, I felt like I was smiling. I was calm, content, felt softly sparked throughout: I guess my head is as a bulb with a burnt… Continue reading Cara: A Portrait.
(Mon 5th Nov 18, 18:28.) The second whiskey-laced homemade hot chocolate in three days: it is Bonfire Night, after all. I imagine scaling-down to Borrower size, the subject of rogue experimental science and diving into my dark lilac scalloped mug, the intricate embellishments of birds, botanicals and butterflies encircling the inside rim a lullaby mobile… Continue reading Velvet, Amber, Autumn, Umber.
Nostalgia is an incredibly personal, piercing pain. I had on the radio earlier and heard 'Dead From The Waist Down' by Catatonia (between 15:30 and 15:35): it was introduced as one of their less-played tracks, perhaps it is now, but I remember hearing it quite frequently when it was out. I was a child in… Continue reading Notes on Nostalgia. Monday, the 18th of June, 2018- 16:36.
(Sunday, the 3rd of June, 2018, Somewhere between 22:00 and 22:20.) I step out onto the porch and the air, once more, wears the tantalising aroma of coriander. I suspect this perfume- herbal, citrus, reviving- stems from some foliage in the neighbours' front garden arrangement, But its root, like this spirit-dipped Summer evening breeze Swirls… Continue reading Sparkling Twilight.
1.56pm. Saturday, the first full day of May's primary bank holiday weekend; I am dreaming of strawberry ice-cream, ruby-studded, demure spoonfuls pooling into pink As my hand warms up stainless steel, blood-heat radiating from neck to head. The European heatwave has everything coloured-in: Coal wisps rise and waft from some neighbouring barbeque Swirl through the… Continue reading Saturday, the 5th of May, 2018.