I sit in my white chair in the late afternoon gazing out into the sky. Through the open window I hear the birds idly gossiping, the odd car door slams and voices murmur in the street below.
All in Classical Culture
Windows Of The Sea
We walked along the beach this afternoon my daughter and I. She gathered shell fragments and I watched the footprints appear and disappear in the sand. The ocean was choppy and strong and I thought of Poseidon.
Voices of Love and Theft
I’m teaching Virgil again. It‘s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since I last taught this greatest of poets. Although the school room has turned into a kitchen table and the student is my fifteen year old son rather than a group of girls from London,
Shining Aspiration
At this time of annual beginning, the old year has scarcely departed and the new is still removing his shoes in the doorway. I always spare a thought for the deity Janus, the Roman god of beginnings in this first month.
Voyagers
We are at the beach once again but it’s a different beach today. Perhaps it’s because the months have turned to December and the seasons have slid into their final movement of the year.
Slivers Of A Singing Moon
In the current time of loss and shrinkage of our humanity, the song of the eternal poet has been stalking my thoughts. What does he make of our intrusive silence I often wonder.
A Long Road
I’ve been thinking about disillusionment recently.
This past week happened to mark the passage of ten years since my husband, son and I made our bold move across the Atlantic from London to New York.
Memories in Stillness
With the advent of July it feels like we are knee deep in the flowers of endless summer. One week stretches into another with an aimless ease rather like Duke when he leads me around our neighbourhood on our morning ramblings.
Solid Rock
As I sit in my chair and gaze outwards, night gradually spreads her primordial fingers across the sky. There are noises outside; tonight the neighbourhood crows have arrived, en masse it would seem.
Calling Voices
In these long dog days of confinement, with life before a distant memory and life after an unknown, it is only when sitting beside the ocean that any clarity of thought returns to me. As I sit gazing silently through the waves I hear voices calling.
A Villa by the Seaside
I paid my first visit to the Getty Villa last week. It’s one of those quintessential Los Angeles locales that I have meaning to see for a while. For one reason or another, maybe its location- with the intimidating right turn straight off Pacific Coast Highway- maybe the simple fear of disappointment, I’d avoided it for longer than I should have. The crowds can be overwhelming during the busiest periods and so I booked my entrance for the earliest slot of the morning. As I walked from the car park to the museum entrance I was transported into another world.