Pete Hartley: sometime dramaturg, perennial scribbler
The man with the missile is masturbating His shadow splats onto the garden He thinks he is making history Heaven knows he's making a mess The equinox will re-stock the garden It won't be easy this year The east reheats the cold war There are sentries in spades at the lych-gate When a man without … Continue reading Unbalanced Equinox
Bracken rules the carrion roost. He’ll hide any cadaver. He’ll launder immoral earnings. He’ll raise an army. He’ll muster rebels. He’ll occupy territory.
Unearthing thoughts on Plough Monday.
Twelve tips to kick-start creativity and keep it flowing.
Father and son discuss nature, nurture and the curse of creativity. Is storytelling in the blood? Plus where the weirdest ideas come from, where Guinea Pigs should never go, and the meerkats of the mind.
Flying solo at seventeen.
Just to instil confidence the station fire engine trundled up and parked alongside the runway. I radioed for permission, taxied onto the runway, opened up the throttle and released the breaks.
That first solo on 29th August 1974 was the beginning of the end of a dream.
And it won’t take “no” for answer No matter how good your facemask is it will not protect you against the slyest infection of all: the personality of the mask itself. Wearing any mask changes your mind. There is no doubt. If you do doubt it, it matters not; your mask will still have its … Continue reading YOUR FACE MASK NEEDS YOU
Mr Dionysus always danced out of doors. That was his natural environment. I smiled as I recalled the parties he had thrown. Wild did not come into it. They were out of doors and out of control.
The most popular uneasywords of 2019 Another year of blogging done. Here, in reverse order, are the most popular uneasywords posts of 2019: At number 9 is a post from November 2018 explaining how the paintings of Jack Vettriano inspired a musical theatre show: Swinging with the Singing Butler. Number 8 is also … Continue reading Nine from ‘Nineteen
When my wife had a significant birthday several years ago, my gift to her was a DNA test. I’m an incorrigible romantic. Seriously, it was what she most wanted. Almost a decade later, she returned the favour and bought me one. It turns out we are related. We’ve got the same mother.
