Time and Magic

Magic and Time Time, at some points and places, stretches. Days seem longer, the mind translates the passage of the sun in ways which are not, perhaps, normal. When I was eight, my family moved to Stromness, Orkney. The month…
Magic and Time Time, at some points and places, stretches. Days seem longer, the mind translates the passage of the sun in ways which are not, perhaps, normal. When I was eight, my family moved to Stromness, Orkney. The month…
Of Edgelands and Imagination We live around 12 kilometres, or 7.5 miles, from the ocean. Here, as I have mentioned, the ground begins to fold and hills rise around us, stretching above crinkled, complicated valleys, all the way down to…
My, aren’t you dark and cold? Here, in the town at the end of the world*, where the railway and road run out of room and the sea has a beginning, the light is always magically special. This is the…
Where my work is going and what new releases you shall see, with additional rambling about mental health and the world burning. I recently threatened to post a blog here and, worryingly, it looks like that threat came true, if…
The following was originally posted on my Not A Travel Writer sub-tumblr. As tumblr dies following its ridiculous self-destruction, I have decided to correlate all my previous posts, from several places, here. It makes sense and, crucially, means I own…
The following was originally posted on my Not A Travel Writer sub-tumblr. As tumblr dies following its ridiculous self-destruction, I have decided to correlate all my previous posts, from several places, here. It makes sense and, crucially, means I own…
The following was originally posted on my Not A Travel Writer sub-tumblr. As tumblr dies following its ridiculous self-destruction, I have decided to correlate all my previous posts, from several places, here. It makes sense and, crucially, means I own…
The following was originally posted on my Not A Travel Writer sub-tumblr. As tumblr dies following its ridiculous self-destruction, I have decided to correlate all my previous posts, from several places, here. It makes sense and, crucially, means I own…
This is Stromness. More specifically, this is a path up the hillside, from near the harbour towards the primary school I attended, once upon a time. Stromness remains the only town or village I have ever felt close to calling…
Expect more on Operation Rising Cream soon. Needless to say I have yet to make a definitive decision on the whole matter. When one has spent years of one’s life working on something, one wants the best for one’s work.…