caught red handed

doctor, doctor ... tell me honestly ( sigh, gulp, shudder ) ... is it ... writer's block ?

damozels in dystresse ... the same old stuff in room 50a at the V and A

a small counter epiphany in the norfolk room

waiting somewhat vacantly for a recital by the fabulous guitarist Laura Snowden, i was admiring the elaborate gilded carvings and thinking how marvellous it was when the craftsmen of the good old days managed to position the mirrors exactly halfway between the objects and their reflections

a short walk on the edge of a sussex field

magpies

one thing leads to another, as all philosophers know ...

a cast-iron phoenix in crowhurst churchyard

Three beautiful things … 10th October 2010

A long train ride to visit a friend I’ve neglected in the cancer ward in a south coast hospital.  And a long wait until visiting time.  The patient is sleeping, or is she already gone ?  No, the wind is whistling through the valve in her throat and they’ve removed the stomach tube and they've attached the help-yourself-morphine drip.  In mournful silence, I turn to search for a chair and then the old familiar smiling voice whispers from the pillow, “Hello, stranger!”  “Stranger than fiction!”, I reply before we embark on a three hour conversation.

Darkness advances as the train pulls out on the return journey and we pass the beach at low tide.  Three men with spades, for all the world like grave diggers, are silhouetted against the twilight waters.

Falling asleep in the loved one’s embrace, and waking there some time later, refreshed and healed.

the old press at the traditional cheese dairy in stonegate before they finally moved it to the barn

chez micawber ce matin ... a little ray of sunshine creeps in between downpours

from our own correspondent

stuff at the v and a

stuff at the royal academy