If I loved you, I would tell you this
Robin Black
Scribe, Melbourne, 2010
ISBN: 9781921640421
PB, 268 pp   $32.95

This is very welcome addition to my short story collections shelf.

It has been said that, while in a novel there is a need for a plot and the development of characters, the short story need be no more than just that: a fragment of life, an interesting tale with a cameo of characters.  Then you come across a writer like Robin Black and you learn that a short story can be a novel in miniature.  (more…)

Happy Birthday to this blog.  One year ago tomorrow I wrote the first ‘From the Kitchen’ and this blog was born. (more…)

The earth is cloud-hidden and the sky a range of blues.  Yes, I’m flying again.  It seems to be a new habit, writing while travelling.

Certainly, viewing the earth from the perspective of 35 000 feet makes a difference when thinking about things.  This may be why people sit on top of mountains to meditate.  Of course, one can meditate anywhere, but being able to sit with eyes open and see a large part of the earth’s surface spread out below automatically gives a different quality to the meditation.
Hurtling through the air in a closed container is also not the same as floating and gliding suspended from a paraglider.  Paragliding, or hang-gliding, forces a more intimate relationship with the atmosphere – the air currents and thermals.  There is immediacy, as there is with sailing. (more…)

I’m about to take off again, literally.  Flying to Perth for a stint of work, to be ensconced in a hotel for four days.  Apart from the décor in the rooms and the colour and quantity of the marble in the foyers (or lack of it), one hotel in Australia seems to be much like any other, especially if I don’t venture outside. (more…)

I am in the middle of upgrading my computer, with a new hard drive and new operating system.  I temporarily have no spell chequer to catch those odd words that I mist when proofing.

I try so hard to get things write, that I sometimes miss the obvious, such as failing to see that what I’ve written makes no cents; I get bogged down in the detail and no longer see the bigger pitcher. (more…)

For almost a week, my life has had a different rhythm to it.  I’ve been attending a Tai Ji retreat in New Zealand. (more…)

I’m sitting here, exhausted, after completing four days of intensive work – mostly non-physical, but long hours of concentration and attention to detail and including a night away from home. The word ‘exhaustion’ is the one that rolled off the pen, but is it accurate? (more…)

I dislike tests.  They are meant to judge a person’s fitness for an aspect of life, or to ascertain how alive a person is.  It is very difficult (if not impossible) to design a test, the results of which are useful.  The designer of the test makes assumptions, some based on known facts about the person being tested, such as their knowledge, upbringing, background and state of mind. (more…)

Speaking to a business owner just before Easter, I commented on looking forward to a blessed few days off.  He said that, not being a practising Christian, he would be working most of those four days.  He doesn’t believe it is right to take something that is not rightfully his. (more…)

It’s easy to feel at a loose end, the sense of an absence of anything to do.  It’s a strange notion and conjures up even stranger images.  What is it a loose end of?  Am I following a piece of string and then come to the end of it, dangling loosely in my hand?  What does this string represent?  Security?  Guidance?  Imperatives? (more…)