On March 17th my world was rocked by the death of one of my literary heroes, Sir Derek Walcott. Sir Derek was born in Castries St Lucia in January 1930. St Lucia is one of the Windward Islands in the Lesser Antilles of the Caribbean. His father, a Bohemian water colourist, died when Derek and … More Feasting on Life
There’s a heaviness in my spirit that I cannot shift a slow, malignant malaise, seeping treacle-paced through vein and limb and bone I am a stone sinking, titanic, into deep morass There’s a heaviness in my spirit viscous, like long held grief formed from nights of silent mourning and fitful sleep massive, ungainly, glacial … More Weight
Jim that sweat soaked rat, drives me hard every day each time I swear in my heart never to return, the next day I’m back again to ‘feel the burn’ I’m a glutton for punishment keen to win the ultimate six pack of glory in a silent hell of achy muscles protein shakes and … More Jim
I’m finally taking the plunge and writing a project about my father. I have had this idea bouncing around in my head for way more than a year. It will be a compilation of all the hilarious, outrageous, shocking, wise and acidly sarcastic things my father has said throughout his life. Only now, as an … More Papa Bear
The boy who broke my heart had a face with character handsome, not cute hooded eyes that switched on a dime from tenderness to hate; rarely cried. lips luscious for a man with a perfect cupid’s bow that loosed countless lying arrows into my naive and gullible heart. worshipped my body made … More Caution! Fragile.
We’re in the ‘month of love’ with Valentine’s Day only 10 days away. I don’t buy Valentine’s Day though. All the ads and the chocolate; the frenzied hype over one day a year that’s not even official, it all feels a bit forced. In my book, a holiday is not official unless I get to … More Red Roses?
I joined a 500 words a day challenge to force myself to write every day. It has not been going well. I started off fired up. I woke up half an hour earlier every morning the first week to ‘get it in’ before tackling the responsibilities of motherhood, a full time job and the basic … More How to Not Write 500 Words
Pens equal permanence. I cannot stress enough the exquisite pleasure I felt when I entered high school, and discovered that we would be allowed to use pens for the majority of our written work. I had arrived; no more lead pencils whose marks could be erased on a whim. Instead, everything I wrote-wrong or right- … More Blue on the Brain
A while back I wrote a poem about words. Well, that’s not exactly right, the poem is about a lot of things; perception versus reality, truth versus lies, the whole idea that words are a little bit like porn. Maybe harmless in small doses, but wildly insidious and addicting, one word leads to another and … More Word Porn
I think I have said before that I love words, I love reading them. I love saying them- letting them roll or leap off my tongue. I love discovering new words and finding ways to use them in everyday conversation. I wonder at the word choices people make when expressing themselves. Why we choose some … More I love Words