2014 seems to have been a year of upheaval and uprising, of extreme highs and lows, tragedies and atrocities, of revelations great and terrible. Natural and/or man-made disasters dominated local and global news. Planes fell from the skies, flood-waters rose, diseases flourished, people around the world were killed for being who they were where they … More The Old Year is Dead
This week I went back up to Dumfries to see my window poem, which has just been installed in the upper landing of the Globe Inn, next to the Burns Room with its historical etchings. I love the way the text is mediated by the transparency and reflective qualities of the glass. Next door, Hugh … More On Transparency and Self-Reflection
Full of melancholy, the Wordsworth party recite Burns’ poetry over his grave in what feels to them a fitting ceremony of remembrance. The party are struck by the view of their native mountains from Burns Country, and the recital (Burns works), the landscape, the physical presence of the corpse, and the feeling of neighbourliness become interlinked … More Windows for Burns.