I caught up with a writer friend today I’ve known for more than 3 years having met through the web via mutual writer friends we both know. We spoke over Zoom about a bunch of things, from writing memoir to publishing projects to social media, cats, and more. One of…

There’s something about conversing *alongside* someone, vs facing them — One of my favourite ways of connecting is through walking and talking. …

Going on a journey and returning to the same place, anew. — Back in 2015 and 2016, I was a part of a community of fellow millennials who, like me, had experienced quarter-life-crises of sorts and were trying to find work they cared about. I met a long-standing friend of mine through an organisation called Escape The City, who was working in…

“It had to be exactly my voice.” — I find myself writing again about Pamela Anderson, after reading a piece interviewing her for the dual-release of her Netflix documentary and memoir. The piece in question being the cover article for this week Sunday Times magazine, titled “The Passion of Pamela Anderson”. I’m a little too young to be…

“I just still can’t wrap my mind around that amount of vulnerability…” — I am in awe of the courage and trust Pamela Anderson has demonstrated in the production of her Netflix documentary, ‘Pamela, a love story’. Not only did she take herself back to traumatic experiences and periods in her life, but she allowed filmmaker Ryan White full access to years of her private tapes and diaries. In his words:

I wrote down something strange and seemingly counter-intuitively recently. It was something along the lines of: “I’ve had the most restful and productive start to the year I can remember” I shared recently that each day of the week, weekday or weekend, is a precious one and I try to…

Each and every day is precious… whether it’s a Monday, a Thursday, or a Saturday. — I am continuing to realise just how precious a commodity time is. For many years of my life, there was a marked distinction between weekdays and weekends. Weekdays were for education, or work, and weekends were for time off. Mondays to Fridays would be spent being productive, with Saturdays and…

A friend of mine recently complimented me on my writing. I’ve known him for many years, we were at secondary school together. We’ve stayed in touch, and his compliment was in reference to the newsletter that I sent out over the weekend. We spoke about all sorts, as we always…

I sometimes ask myself who I am writing for. Is it for myself, or for someone at the other end? Is it for someone in particular, or anyone who might chance upon reading it? For thousands of years, human beings (and our more primitive ancestors) have been telling stories through etchings and carvings on rocks, and gathering around fires. It seems that we have always been drawn to telling stories. Perhaps the written form is another way of doing that.