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Monthly Archives: June 2013


Sometimes you cling so tight to the rock face, you become so intimate with it, that the fear and the pain becomes a sort of love.


I have this recurring dream.

I’m walking on a path, going somewhere, and gradually the path is getting steeper and steeper until I’m having to scramble rather than walk, and eventually I’m clambering up an almost sheer cliff face.

So long as I keep moving I can just about hold on, I won’t fall unless I stop and look down, but I never manage to get to the top.

I mean, I know what it’s telling me, this dream, but I can’t even frame a response never mind figure out how I’m supposed to actually fix it.

post script: just remembered, one time when I had this dream I actually told myself  ‘I can’t do this any longer.’

But the next time I had the dream I just kept on climbing.


I read somewhere that violence is a frequency.

Whether physical, emotional, psychological.. whatever, it’s all coming from the same place. I guess that’s true, certainly my own experience of violence is that it’s a certain extremely pure and unpleasant thing. The sort of frequency that would make your ears ring, and not in a good way.

But if one emotion is a frequency then perhaps all emotions are.

Love is a frequency.

Compassion is a frequency.

Ambition, desire, appetite, passion, loneliness, happiness. All are notes in some cosmic musical scale.

All the emotions we feel are a sort of music, sometimes harmonious, sometimes disharmonious, mostly, probably, somewhere in between, the soundtrack of our emotional state. Life is a symphony of emotions.

everyone’s a critic

My girl Ruthie never reads anything that I write; she’s not interested. Every now and again she’ll glance at something I’m working on but mainly it’s not something we share.Out of the blue the other day she said she thought she should take an interest in my writing so I dug out The Heaven Field on my kindle (my original MS got eaten up the first time my macbook went to crap) and she scanned the first chapter, clicking through each of the pages after a gap of two or three seconds, then put it down. I left the kindle with her that night and, tonight, I found it lying exactly where she’d placed it.

Unimpressed, I guess.

Anyway, prior to giving her the Heaven Field to read, I read through the first sixty-odd pages myself and thought, wow, when did I manage to write this good? I mean, there are errors – errors I can’t change as I don’t have the MS to edit – and there are simple typos I’d love to change, but mainly it reads as I want it to read.


Drove with Jackson up to Edinburgh on Friday. He’s got a match coming up and needed a visa.

It was the first sunny day in what seemed like weeks and we were stuck in a car for ten hours. Never mind, Edinburgh is a beautiful town.¬†Wish I’d been able to do some sightseeing.

Driving through East Lothian on the way home we stopped near East Linton and looked at the Pencraig Brae standing stone. 3,000 years old, and then some, standing on a perfect line between Bass Rock and Traprain Law.

I love this land.