Windows open to the smells of the countryside. Sun shining. Stornoway Hebridean lilt playing over me.
Beowulf and Anglo Saxon Chronicles in my head.
Mapping the Mind, Brilliant excel and
Alex’s adventures in Numberland at hand.
Owain’s Resistance on my mind.
Fingers poised.
Two whole days of writingness.
Pen with paper now covered in scrawls. as I eat tea and toast with the obligatory marmalade and Bovril.
As I move from night to work. Opening curtains and getting ready for the day, I see drawings of actors and musicians, Jack, Marlon, Johnny with Dylan and Mason. Each the product of other’s imagination and craft.
Now it’s my turn. The time has arrived. There is no escape.
Dust the crumbs off the keyboard. Press replay on the remote.
Tis time to play…
Photo: Hay Festival May 2011
