write as if you had got loose & could run away downhill whatever anyone called after you
"At night she couldn't sleep for the whales that came breaching up through the house's watery foundations, rent apart the floorboards to flip through, circled the bed in sharkish lines until that is what they were: sharks made from all the letters he'd used to describe them..."
My live-in landlady for three years was Joy Hill. She had been employed by Raynor Unwin to help Tolkien keep his papers in order. She had some amazing keepsakes and some even more amazing stories of the chaos of his office. Distinct sense it was like the records house in the depths of Minas Tirith.
Twenty-one curlews single nodding their beaks into the turf of the Police Scotland Headquarters playing fields.
Alan Garner: never enuff said. Powsels and Thrums by Alan Garner review – the magus speaks www.theguardian.com/books/2024/s...
A rich collection of poems, talks, memoir and enchantments from the life of Alan Garner
"Sad handfuls of green air Hang in the gloom. The sun Nails tatters of foxfur On the bark of larch and fir." From Firewood by Norman MacCaig
Paint them? I did. Played mainly against a friend who had a Polish army and a French army (I mostly lost to both). Ottomans? Loved the Jannisaries and the elite cataphract cavalry. Scenery? Cloths over books for hills, lichen for trees, resin houses to scale etc etc
My social deaths were apocalyptic.