April 10, 2014
what we did

what we did

April 8, 2014

10:48pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z3B38y1CVGZ45
Filed under: advert work politics 
April 2, 2014
My First Ad Comes Out Today

It has this:

Stay tuned.

March 24, 2014
One of these things is not like the others…

One of these things is not like the others…

March 21, 2014
Talk To The Hand: an essay

I wrote a big essay on advertising for some reason. And for the sake of trying new things, it’s up on Medium

Have a look.

March 19, 2014

I’d like to pay someone to, over the course of a year of my life, take ten random days and film me, in secret, then edit that footage together and screen it, just for me, on New Year’s Eve.

Would I be happy? Would I celebrate my successes, or see them as cosmic spurts of chance that could happen to anyone? Would I truly see my own mythologies at work? Would I egg myself on through the tough days, would I scream at myself to jump up from the desk and do something?

Would I be happy with me? Would I even recognise him?

11:59pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z3B38y1AdB1K2
Filed under: wondering 
February 10, 2014


(Source: paullacolley)

January 2, 2014


"Inspiration and work ethic – they ride right next to each other." ~ Jack White

( dooce)


December 27, 2013
Story: Scatter!

Out in a walk in the woods, over the hills behind the house, we saw the darndest thing:

You’ll have worked out what that is, of course. But it wasn’t til we got to the heath you can see in the background that we realised what we’d gleefully taken photos of. Oops. There are countless stories you could write off of this, but here’s the one that came to mind. And here’s the end of saladonions for the year. Thanks for reading, see you next year!


Ma and Da gave Harry to me when I swam twenty-five meters without floats, and how far is that you ask? Twenty five meters is the distance we have to walk one two three four five SIX seven eight times to where Harry is now when we want to visit him and talk to him through the little hole in his lid. I drag best friend and other-schooler Tobias Finch out the back door down the brick steps around the stone frog under the climbing vines and round the rosebush that I used to think held fairies though that is a baby thing to think and not the attitude of a SIX year old never mind one who is halfway to seven.

Here is the Seeking place. There is a knack (a knack is a trick for grownups) to Hide and Seek and that is to Know The Terrain. I know the Terrain like the back of my hand which we drew in Art and then filled in with paints and since mine is now on the fridge next to other important pieces of paper (e.g. Shopping List and Faulkes Rise Funeral Parlour Invoice) then I know my hand. I know every patch of the garden from the beech tree where we let Harry stay because he always used to watch for birds under there to the bench where Nana would sometimes let me sit when I was being good though now she isn’t here anymore I don’t really want to because the bench is too big for one.

I cover my eyes and say okay Tobias ready steady GO and count from one up to twenty, then I keep going to forty because Fair Play and also it is nice to know that I can. Forty is the number of steps from one end of Nana’s I mean our house to the other. When we first got there for living rather than just visiting it seemed too big, with loads of creaking rooms filled with rocking horses and old books and no TV. I sat down on the creaky bed that was supposed to be mine and started to cry like I’d seen Ma do on the telephone the week before when she found out the news. That was when Harry jumped up next to me, and bopped me on the head to say okay Catrin, it en’t the end of all, and slinked out the door flicking his ginger tail which has always meant come and look at this in our language.

Tobias may have his own boys’ knacks for Hide and Seek, because he is not behind the shed, he is not under the brick steps, he is not even inside the fairy bush. When Harry played Hide and Seek with me he always went somewhere new and scary, in attics and bedrooms that Da hadn’t yet cleaned out. Once he meowed from under the stairs and I had to go in. I never would have gone but cause it was only a game I sort of could, and that’s how I made Nana’s House into My House, and why I can show new best friend Tobias Finch around and let him hide. But he is clever in a way that makes me have these memories, and so I have to explore further.

It is five times twenty five (one hundred and twenty five) metres to get to the tangle of thorns in front of the Secret Garden. The wind is cold, but I don’t have my stockings on because I’m being a boy today, so getting through will be difficult, but I straight away know that is what Tobias realised too: that sacrifices must be made to win. Da had said girl, you have to know when to let go, and he had pushed the box containing Harry into the flames and I had screamed so loud it must have gone twenty-five twenty-fives, then we sat on the bench for a long time watching the rain sink into the ground, and I knew somehow that things had to go back to where they came from when it was time.

I have a cut in my leg like a tiny road but it’s worth it because beyond the thorns there beside the beech tree is the defeated Tobias Finch and he is pointing at-

“I di’ent mean to-”

White dust cakes the toe of his black trainer. It streaks in one line like snow on the snow, right from where he’s sitting, back to the tree, back into Harry’s upturned jar. There is a tiny white grain on the rim.

Tobias scrambles to put it back in, “I di’ent know, Catrin!”

But the winter wind blows through the garden, picking up ash and sprinkling it through all the trees, over the bench, out into the fields and maybe beyond forever, and when Tobias Finch sees my face he smiles, because I’m smiling that Harry will be happy with his hundred hiding places. 

December 10, 2013

Efficient city designs, as long as gravity/mass isn’t an issue.

Vavatch, anyone?

src: http://design-milk.com/spectacular-wood-sculptures-city-series-by-mcnabb-co/

10:00am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z3B38y10p8Ufs
Filed under: inspiration city sf 

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