June 15, 2015
in Photographs, Poetry
A Secret Salvation
Monday morning wet in the window-framed garden,
Author: Adrian Scott
June 12, 2015
in Poetry
Step One – I am Mad
The way to pass through the aperture of freedom to an unforced future.
June 11, 2015
in Poetry
Walking with My Wife
Walking in the woods with you, voicing the ebb and flow of our hopes.
June 11, 2015
in Photographs
Finding a Place in the World
I didn't accept my place in the pack, I railed against it, tried to change it, kept assessing it, and expecting it to change, that my position in the pecking order was something I could change by the will and work of my ego and
June 10, 2015
in Photographs
The River
It contains a kind of magical quality, not the ridiculous optimism that many Christians seem to engage in: that belief is an insurance policy against tragedy and pain. This magic works through reversal, downturns inconstancy, instability, uncertainty, unpredictability, and invites, by its very flow, the
June 5, 2015
in Reflections
Now I am 54
In honour of others, especially Matt Haig (see his book 'Reasons to Stay Alive'), who have been open and honest about their own mental health difficulties I post this blog in the hope that none of us need suffer in silence and feel as if
April 22, 2015
in Poetry
Blossom
This is the week, in Sheffield, when the blossom is at its best. Blossom As you drive past the hanging blossom of the cherry tree, you are moving too fast. Their pale luminescence an unnoticed glory, a promise, year by year, you fail to keep. But one day soon you will stop, get
April 17, 2015
in Poetry
Meeting my Father-in-Law
Yesterday would have been my Father-in-Law Donald Malcolm's 90th birthday, what a man. Here is the poem I wrote for him remembering the day we fist met. Meeting My Father-in-Law Your warm and bearlike hand grasped my slim, collegiate palm more turned to turning pages than industry and grind. At
August 12, 2014
in Poetry
There is a Stage
There is a Stage There is a stage called the present moment that you are constantly stepping onto. If you concentrate you can sense its curtain call just under your navel, that union of courage and instinct. A breathing anchor that keeps you right here in the present action of your life. A whole cast