Last night I spent three strange hours in front of my MacBook. Normally, time with my MacBook is at worst obligatory (bill paying, filing tax returns, marking papers – none of which is particularly strange) and at best treasured (writing, reading, listening to music). So – yesterday evening I co-delivered my first live online teaching… Continue reading Virtual class
Right now I am at the end of a particular kind of tether – the house rental tether. Last year we decided to sell our home of seventeen years in order to downsize. Having tried to buy various houses, each of which fell through for a different reason, and not wanting to lose our buyer,… Continue reading Water, water, everywhere
Sometimes good things come out of disappointments. Sara and I had planned a Writers in Residence event at the University of Brighton for late April, themed around collaboration and site-specific work. Speakers and space were booked, but the date was too close to exams, and on the night we found ourselves in a small circle… Continue reading Making ‘Vacant Possession’ – a site-specific performance to say goodbye to a house (written by Sara Clifford and Clare Best, directed by Nicola Blackwell)
I returned home yesterday from Ripon College, Cuddesdon, in Oxfordshire. I think I’ll be going there again. What a privilege it is to be able to abandon routines, even for a few days. I’ve done a couple of terrific Arvon courses over the years (one was when I was putting together my first full collection,… Continue reading Apples, wires and being alone
I can’t quite believe I’m now seven years post-op. What is it about seven years? Some urban myth that every single cell in the body has renewed itself in that time (skin is quick to renew itself in seven days, bones take longer – several to seven years, and it seems most other organs are… Continue reading Seven-year itch
Sometimes I wonder, just wonder, if I should try and take life a bit slower. Then I do try and it doesn’t really work. Because one thing that living with the threat of inherited disease has done for me is to make me very determined to live as fully as possible. I give myself over… Continue reading A day
I’ve finally done it. After thinking about it for several years, I’ve signed up for the Swimathon. On April 27th I’ll be swimming 5 km (just over 3 miles), that’s two hundred lengths of the local Leisure Centre pool. The swim is in aid of Marie Curie Cancer Care. Swimming has always been one of… Continue reading Swimathon
I set out from the UK with seventy copies of Excisions and forty copies of Breastless distributed between my checked case and my carry-on. Arriving in Boston, it was suggested that I was a geologist/rock-collector. En route from Boston to Montreal this was modified. ‘This is heavy!’ exclaimed the kind and very strong young woman who somehow… Continue reading A long weekend in Montreal
During the days and weeks after surgery, the only thing I wrote, apart from emails and short notes and shopping lists, was my journal. That writing kept me going, it was a necessary link with my old self, and a way to watch myself become my new self. 2 January, 2007 All I really want… Continue reading The compulsion to write
