Observation

The stories we tell ourselves

When I wrote this piece, I was questioning the idea that our experiences make us who we are; a belief that had, until then, provided me with both justification and reassurance. I’d come across the work of Kahneman who suggests that it is not an experience per se that we remember; what we remember is…

All in the name of research

I’d have to say that one of the best things about being a writer is that you can justify anything under the guise of ‘research’. Okay, maybe you can’t justify anything anything, but you can pretty much justify most things. As long as it isn’t illegal. Or immoral. Or bad taste. But everything other than…

Rarely linear, sometimes chaotic, always meaningful

One of my dear writing friends wrote to me recently, saying that she thought she shouldn’t be blogging because she felt that her semi-regular posts which touched on a range of topics made it look as though she had five personalities. ‘Your posts don’t strike me as being inconsistent at all,’ I reassured her. ‘If…

Beauty

Look. Do you see? There in the lengthening shadows, in the dappled light kissing the roses. There, where each petal caresses the next. There. Look. You will see.

I’m sorry wind, but I’m just not that into you

I don’t like the wind. It makes me agitated and unsettled. I think maybe it’s because my body struggles to settle into its own rhythm amid the noise and chaos of a windy day. Everyone in my family feels the same. Anytime we’ve ranked the weather elements on a likeability scale (yes, I have the…

The man

His eyebrows sit neatly between the boundaries set for them. They are so striking in their symmetry that at first you don’t see the way his left eyebrow arches slightly higher than his right. How it lifts even higher as he enquires as to your health. How his lips disappear into his mouth as he…

A sense of occasion

In a previous post, I wrote about not being much of a photo taker and that my favourite photos are the imperfect ones; the ones that capture life as it unfolds, rather than life working to a script. In today’s world of the camera phone, it can be hard to remember there was a time…

Does the kettle really have emphysema?

‘Why did you call your blog The Kettle has Emphysema?’ no-one asked me ever. In the absence of any data, I can only assume that this means one of three things. It’s obvious why No one is curious (translation = no one cares) The one person who is curious just hasn’t got around to asking…

For the (photo) record

I don’t take many photos. It doesn’t matter if I’m at a family wedding, catching up with friends I don’t see very often, or on some amazing travel adventure (remember them?); you just won’t find me behind the lens. Lately I’ve been thinking about why this is. The best reason I can come up with…