jackie scutt writing


write-now
It's February. Another birthday has passed. Another creative writing class has started. I'm still choosing courses online.
While it's not the same as sitting in a group with others, there are advantages. There are participants logging in from other European countries as well as different areas of Scotland. It makes for a lively mix.
Hopefully some new stories will emerge over the next couple of months ...
I have spent the last weeks doing some bookmaking. Karen, my co-collaborator on Blue Hand Press, is doing less printmaking because she is immersed in music and becoming an awesome drummer!
Karen shared a line that was going through her head and it became the title of something in the style of a lyric. The words then became part of an experiment with a new bookbinding technique using some paper I picked up in the Borders.
Here are some snapshots.
3.2.22



The platform slopes towards the track
I wore a black wool coat that flapped
as I walked unfamiliar streets
some people stared with dead-eye
others with skewed intent
I dreamed of skaters on a pond in a wood
as I stepped through slush in my flimsy boots
I passed a toy shop window and
the puppets sprang to life
I waited all night in the hotel room
I didn’t take my coat off
I ordered an egg in a café
and hung my coat on a peg
when I put my knife and fork down
my black wool coat was gone
the black wool coat that flapped
as I walked unfamiliar streets
the platform slopes towards the track
don’t look back.