All the things I do instead of writing…
Whenever anyone asks me what my best job was, it is without hesitation that I say waitressing. I worked in a large traditional cafe-brasserie with a terrace, in the middle of touristy Heidelberg, in Southwest Germany which is mainly populated by American tourists, as well as pretty much every other nationality. The Americans stood out,... Continue Reading →
I will take the time to write down my day yesterday. I am not sure it’s of any interest, but on the rare occasions when I have written about the minutiae of my youth, I find it quite interesting to look back on. It doesn’t quite have the madeleine effect of transporting me back to... Continue Reading →
I am forced to write something. I must write something before the train gets to Milton Keynes, otherwise I will once again not have written anything. That would mean I'd have to be doing something other than writing, which is mostly working, sitting on trains, playing violin, losing all enthusiasm for exercise, worrying about my... Continue Reading →
Few things could surely be less important than breaking a teapot, in the wider scheme of things. I keep impressing upon my children that the path to happiness does not lie in more possessions. I try not to get attached. But where teapots are concerned, it is oddly sad when they break. We got our... Continue Reading →
I am never sure if I have changed, or if the world has changed around me. I'm 48, so I'm pretty sure it is a combination of both factors. I correspond to the old adage of " if you're not a liberal when you are young, you have no heart, and if you are not... Continue Reading →
The most striking thing about the reaction to Timothee Chalamet's comments on ballet and opera being irrelevant is that all of the reaction has focussed almost entirely on ballet. No one has shown up defending Siegfried. No one has talked about what Idomeneo means to them, how the music moves their soul. They've talked about... Continue Reading →
I often feel as if, with all the time I spend away from my family, my life revolves around planning holidays with them. Little islands in the hideous swirling maelstrom of tides of fortune that my working life feels like. Our whole family unit is built on the hope of adventure, of some vague idea... Continue Reading →
I don't think it's a stretch to assume that almost everyone who has ever had a relationship has had an unsuitable one. In fact, it's quite likely that if they believe they haven't, they are either still in it, or they are very slow learners. As humans, we don't really like making mistakes, and we... Continue Reading →
It is currently February in London. Winter weather has quite a wide range of temperatures in the UK, although it is less variable in the South. Daytime temperatures are between 1 and 12 degrees, with occasional dips lower or bursts of spring-like weather. And yet, so many people dress exactly the same for the entire... Continue Reading →
When you are young, you are replete with unearned pride in your novelty.It is the sound and fury of those who are seduced by ideas from Nietzsche, Kant and Rousseau. There is nothing at stake for them, so they can enjoy the nihilism and self indulgence of claiming that human nature is both free and... Continue Reading →
The resting writer 