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‘Someone’s rhythm sneaking in again. Sharing a language. The osmosis of rubbing up. Communing.’ (Kathleen Fraser)

Latest Writing

Sarah Cave: extracts from Read the Red

‘Who gave me language?’ asks Alice. Cookie Monster Nietzsche shrugs carries on eating cookies.Elmo Tolstoy begins: ‘Early maps of Alicia denote creative process seenthrough the gap between shirt buttonsand noted as responses to marginalia, impressionist taprootsshredded by arrows, doodles, hoes becoming lecturers’notes, prose fragments, spiralling patterns and haphazardfootnotes.’ ‘I am what I’d call a practising Atheist…’…

Sarah Wallis: Cauliflower Dreamin’

O to exchange this brocade of cream bubbled brain and dank chartreuse skirt, for abubble gum-pink bonnet, breeze-rippling petticoat…I’ve seen troupes of peonies dancing the cancan, kicks and giggles, but being me, aheavy old bucket, the cares of the kitchen calling – how could I escape to the flower-dreamers lush, voluptuous waltz?But… how daring and…

J. R. Carpenter: the trees

for Christine Stewart starting. to do some thinking.about trees. and the light they inhabit. the corners they round. the hills they climb.the ridges they crest. the winds they break. and the way. some are for display.and some are for hiding behind. thinking. also. about trees.and their doubling. shadow trees. wall trees.water trees. trees of pure…