Persistence of memory Fragments

What remains – ghosts 1

I’ve built up a bow wave of subjectivity over the years about ghosts. I grew up in a very lapsed-methodist household, my mum’s background was very low-church, she liked singing hymns in the kitchen at Sunday tea time. My dad sometimes, but very rarely made me say...

Brighton, before the fall

When I was a kid and on into my teens I used to dream about the stars moving. I mean, I know they are actually moving, but then I could see them in 3D shifting and jittering, I could see the satellites and spacecraft in amongst them like an animated model right there...

Babylon’s Burning

I’m reasonably open about the fact that I have a mental health condition, I suffer from anxiety. I talk about it occasionally on social media, friends know, but I haven’t ever made any kind of thing about it apart from writing a thinly veiled piece about facing fear...

Cambridge – persistence of memory

My mum grew up here. Her and therefore my ancestors were here for hundreds of years working as maids and cleaners, labourers, cartmen, and brickies, laying the railways, further back pulling the root veg through the surface of the peaty soils to the north or tending...