Based on the Spilhaus Projection 1942 – the world’s first ocean centred map projection created by Athelstan Spilhaus, a South African oceanographer. Forgotten for a while the map is now circulating on social media – a recognition perhaps of our concern about the impact of human activity and global warming on the 71% of the… Continue reading The world according to fishes…..
The story…. I am usually in the process of knitting something and usually I am knitting the same wool for the second or third time. The mistakes I make are varied and I rarely learn from them but I do eventually produce finished articles, some of which I wear. I am an expert unraveller. Last… Continue reading Unravelling
You do not need to hug me… You do not need to hug me for me to know I’m loved I do not need you in my space to know that we are us We do not need to share a table for communion Hands do not need to touch in namaste…shalom Just turn your… Continue reading A poem for social nearness at a distance 2020
This is the time to be slow, Lie low to the wall Until the bitter weather passes. Try, as best you can, not to let The wire brush of doubt Scrape from your heart All sense of yourself And your hesitant light. If you remain generous, Time will come good; And you will find your… Continue reading In self isolation ….
This piece was written nine years ago, just a few weeks after the death of my father. It marks a beginning of sorts, the point when my explorations into the lives of my ancestors became my own ‘journey’. Since then the quest for ancestors and stories has spread and deepened and there will be much more… Continue reading Who do I think I am?
On the eve of a General Election I want to share this poem of the American philosopher and poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti that, until it was shared by a friend today, I had not read Pity the nation whose people are sheep, and whose shepherds mislead them. Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages… Continue reading Pity the nation…..
Red stones aglow in midsummer sun on a rock set in a fishful, oil-rich sea, resting awhile, a little while, in the warmth, the calm here so rarely found. This rock, it seems, is very old and so far from its birth that it can tell of heat and cold, of collision and division,… Continue reading On Ronas Hill, Shetland, in midsummer
Today is the thirteenth anniversary of my Mum’s death and it seems an good time to share again a poem written last year about the experience of visiting the place where she was born (Carlisle) and where her (and my)ancestors lived. During the past year I have discovered much more about our ancestors and the… Continue reading This place, that time….