Author Archives: Scribe Doll
The Busker
It was a voice carried by the wind through the semi-deserted streets of a Norwich Sunday afternoon. A voice that sang not into your ear but into your heart. I started walking towards it. He was standing outside NatWest Bank, … Continue reading
Clocks Take a Step Back, So Take a Step Forward
It’s my favourite day of the year. I go to bed with a feeling of hopeful anticipation, after setting all the clocks in the flat back by an hour. As far as I’m concerned, I’m going to wake up to … Continue reading
No (Proper) Post Today
Scribe Doll is busy packing and saying goodbye to Brussels. For further information, see Westvleteren. Scribe Doll
The Castle of Translators
Seneffe. H. is beaming as we walk into the courtyard. It is girdled by a horseshoe of former 18th century stables, now turned into guest rooms. In front of us, beyond the railings, are the tall trees belonging to the … Continue reading
Pandolfi’s Violin
There’s a twinkle in the eye of the violin in Pandolfi’s sonatas. He teases, provokes, confuses – then bursts out laughing. An impish laugh, part-threatening, part-joyful. Now, he plays the notes measuredly, mathematically, in deference to the accompanying continuo, and now … Continue reading
Homesick
Wind-swept, East of England skies. Shapeshifting clouds. Swirls of white puff that stretch into mountains, curl into castles, swell into dragons, rise into chariots, then metamorphose into angels. Skies mottled with lead-grey, steel-grey, velvet grey with undertones of purple, shades … Continue reading
The Red Room: A Farewell
The news of the Red Room closing down reached me at a time when I especially feel the need for continuity and something solid under my feet. I am preparing for my fourth house move in eighteen months. A few … Continue reading
On the Train from Norwich to London
The journey from Norwich to London was supposed to take two hours. It took a little over four. When we left Norwich, all seemed on schedule. Then they got us to leave the train and wait on the platform in … Continue reading
Pictures of Saint-Gilles
In the heart of bas Saint-Gilles, the cobbles of Le Parvis are lined on both sides with cafés, brasseries and a couple of Moroccan cake shops. Tables are put outside at the first glimmer of elusive Brussels sunshine. People sit … Continue reading