I love browsing in shops for clothes, but recently I’ve become confused. Sartorially, I no longer know who I am. I’m drawn to the colourful prints and jersey dresses of Seasalt, White Stuff and Fatface, but I’m not a yummy mummy with a Labrador and a husband who works in…
Category: Blog
Evening classes/ The company of strangers
Before COVID and the mass experience of solitary confinement inflicted upon single people who lived alone, one of the standard pieces of advice handed down to lonely people and single people, who were considered the one and the same, was to get out and meet people. As if this were…
Not alone in the Highlands
I was once lucky enough to be awarded a writing residency in France, in a village where Robert Louis Stevenson had spent time with a colony of Swedish landscape painters. At last, I could fulfil my teenage fantasies of being a writer in France, a country, unlike Australia, where creative…
The interior landscape: sitting down
In London, I lived for five years in a tiny bedsit with no couch and a single bed. There was no room for a table, either for dining or work; the obliging landlord installed a small benchtop that I used for both. When eating, I lifted my laptop to its…