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One of the pleasures of books is their sheer physical appeal. I love the slight ripples in exquisite papers, the smell of the ink, the pressed imagines, the leather of a binding, the embossed title, and the sound of the … Continue reading
Recently I’ve subscribed to my morning read on my kindela. I miss the classified adverts which were fun to read, but pointless as I rarely replied to them. I miss walking over to the corner shop, saying hello, and picking … Continue reading
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The old typewriter was a large part of my childhood. I made my first attempts to type on its stubby olive keys, under the watchful eye of my father. I was not aware of the emotion attached to my childish … Continue reading
A camera travels 