Thursday, February 28


she finds tension that feels old, old, and releases it with a clear bright pain

Wednesday, February 27

Buddhist service

today I go through the motions, feel nothing
something changes all the same

Tuesday, February 26

lost day, a million small stones have trickled through my fingers

Monday, February 25

Sunday, February 24

an empty foil case, the cherry pie in my tummy, kaspa's, caroline's, dawn's.

Saturday, February 23

forty minutes drive to a craft fair in a tiny village hall to buy a bag of rhubarb & custard boiled sweets for £1

Friday, February 22

the burbling of blackbirds. the light almost gone. underground, roots - growing.

Thursday, February 21


the zip on my wallet - black with the paint rubbed off, uncovering layers of silver & of white

Wednesday, February 20

a haze hanging over everything. the magpie's rattle. pottery rabbits huddle under the hedge, waiting for the flowers.

Tuesday, February 19

in a coffee shop

a family of eight - foster kids, one in a pushchair. grandma. the girl with braces beams & beams.

Monday, February 18

goose-bumps, sadness & hunger around the edges

Sunday, February 17

pale ceramic bird-shape hangs from invisible string and moves through the air, slowly, slowly, slowly tracing half-circles

Saturday, February 16

Our first three golden crocuses, shining from under the hydrangea...

Friday, February 15

my first proper hug from eight month old anusha

Thursday, February 14

Tuesday, February 12

planting seedlings into new pots
giving their roots room to breathe

Monday, February 11

Sunday, February 10

Saturday, February 9

Thursday, February 7

pin-pricks of blue - early irises... the wind ruffles the trees like a young boy's hair

Wednesday, February 6

today's tight neck, when I tip my ear towards my shoulder, snap crackles & pops.

Tuesday, February 5

a swathe of bright reflected light on the car down the street shouts for attention in this dull grey morning

Monday, February 4

Sunday, February 3

buddhist study morning

we talk about how to live well. we disagree. we acknowledge the infinite depths of our foolishness. we eat cherry cake.

Saturday, February 2

Pookie at the art workshop

She drags her white tail through fresh pink & blue paint and decorates my hand. Later we find a trail of splodges on the floor. Cat art.

Friday, February 1

a single snowdrop. on lifting her head, she shows me her delicate green.