Tag Archives: writing
My Citrine Quartz Ring
My friend F. gave me a ring two summers ago. Even elegant Autumn stomped in this year, perhaps sensing that subtlety was wasted on us. The bay tree on our balcony is waterlogged, the French windows are streaked with rain, … Continue reading
Posted in Odds & Ends, Uncategorized
Tagged Citrine, friendship, katherine gregor, rome, scribe doll, writing
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Through a Zoom Lens*
My favourite thing after I wake up in the morning is to step out on the balcony outside my study and stand beneath the vast expanse of the East Anglian skies. The pigeons are generally sitting on the railings or … Continue reading
The Lady of Paris
When I first saw her, a few weeks ago, while crossing the Pont Saint-Michel, she looked like the ghost of a bygone age, her earthly life a memory, her soul gone from the stone. Grey against the bleak, overcast night … Continue reading
Posted in Travel
Tagged katherine gregor, Notre-Dame, Paris, polyphony, scribe doll, writing
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New Moon, New Month
The crescent of a new moon is slowly emerging through the darkening sky. A pale silver at first, now with a bright, almost golden glow. A waxing new moon. A middle-aged lady in the flat down the corridor, when I … Continue reading
Paris, 14 Juillet
We were in Paris this time last year. I was enjoying the buzz and feeling shortchanged: we don’t have national holidays in England, at least none that carry any kind of historical significance. No religious holidays except Christmas and Easter, … Continue reading
Posted in Odds & Ends
Tagged Bastille Day, katherine gregor, Notre-Dame, Paris, scribe doll, writing
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Reconnecting
The fountain pen feels heavy in my hand. I haven’t written for a long time. I mean written – not typed. That I do every day, all day. Click, click. Irregular, hollow. I tap the plastic keys, one letter at a … Continue reading
The Hour of the Book
The day is drawing in and I’m rushing to finish translating a page. I need to look up a word and that slows me down. I don’t like to stop mid-page but if I don’t leave now I’ll be late. Do … Continue reading
A Shapeshifter at Play
All the windows are locked. Curtains closed. Blinds pulled down all the way to the sills. Even so, its chilly breath hisses through the tiny gaps and reaches my knees. There is an occasional tremor in the candle flames on … Continue reading
Early Autumn Wedding
“Are you having any readings?” “No.” “Have you brought some music?” “No.” “Do you have rings?” “Yes.” The elderly registrar smiles with a hint of relief. At least one traditional feature. She tells those present that photos are not permitted … Continue reading
Milan: Behind the Façade
I guess it was appropriate that my first conversation in Milan should have been about fashion. H. and I just had lunch at Stazione Centrale and were leaving the restaurant, trolley suitcases in tow, when I noticed a young woman … Continue reading
Scribe Doll 