A sun filled room, your smile & the promise of spring.
An an article I've written about the architect Nicholas Hawksmoor for Candid Magazine can be viewed here: ISSUE 3, pages 94 - 96
There’s also two articles I’ve written featured in the other two issues that can be accessed via this link.
"He smiled understandingly - much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced - or seemed to face - the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favour. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey."
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby
I love it when scarves collect a variety of the perfumes you’ve worn over a period of time.
Articles I've written about Tadao Ando & the Tate Modern Extension
Issue 1 - Pages 18 - 19
Issue 2 - Pages 16 - 19
Laura Marling | Sophia
I wasn’t too sure about her latest album after being head over heels in love with her first two. However, after a few proper listens I have been completely bowled over. A Creature I Don’t Know reveals her vast capabilities as an artist and displays how well she does at experimenting, both instrumentally and vocally.
Aftermath (March 1919) by Siegfried Sassoon
Have you forgotten yet? …
For the world’s events have rumbled on since those gagged days,
Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:
And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow
Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you’re a man reprieved to go,
Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.
But the past is just the same - and War’s a bloody game …
Have you forgotten yet? …
Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you’ll never forget.
Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz -
The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
Do you remember the rats; and the stench
of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench -
And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?
Do you ever stop and ask, “Is it all going to happen again?”
Do you remember the hour of din before the attack -
And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you
As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?
Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back
With dying eyes and lolling heads - those ashen-grey
Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?
Have you forgotten yet? …
Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you’ll never forget.
In my opinion, one of the best British World War I poets.
