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.




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.