I’ve been working on a new project called The Grantidote. Last week it took me west, to where I come from.
The Grantidote’s centering women, pausing to understand how a woman’s wholeness is made up of fragments big and small, some chosen, others delivered by circumstance.
The Grantidote’s about acknowledging the marks women leave on our world. I believe by fully registering women’s impact we begin to rectify an error that’s made how we organise, experience and understand humanity feel ill-fitting and wrong.
Toxic masculinity needn’t control the whole narrative, after all.
Hop on my hashtags too, won’t you? #52and40, Instagram and #TheGrantidote
My daughter tells me she learned at school there hasn’t been a May as dry as this in Scotland since before I was born in 1976.
It seems we picked a lucky time for digging a new border in the garden and moving plants around to fill it up. It’s become habit, to go out between writing and running about and be amongst plants growing right before my eyes, echoing the kids growing and changing too. This time of the teenager seems the busiest of family life yet – and possibly the most rewarding.
Want to know how #52and40 began? Come this way.
The hardest bit of writing for me isn’t finding ideas or receiving rejections. Both of those are plentiful for me at this stage. Both of those are great teachers too – to be appreciated and understood just as the nice, easy bits are.
For me, the hardest bit’s waiting for feedback. The no-woman’s land of yay or nay.
The Isle of Maybe.
I’m a feedback junkie – reacting to feedback is my fuel for the next thing.
I guess I need to cultivate a better relationship with my own feedback, for the between bits.
More on #52and40 here.
I grew up thinking I had an un-mathematic brain. Yet as I’ve aged I’ve discovered my brain’s just fine with mathematics. Science too. Whaddya know till you retry?
Viewing an often chaotic world through an organised lens can be comforting. I’ve found maths and science have overlap with understanding human behaviour, too. This week, with help, I’m considering fractals;
‘Fractals are infinitely complex patterns… […] …self-similar across different scales. Driven by recursion, fractals are images of dynamic systems – the pictures of Chaos. Fractal patterns are extremely familiar, since nature is full of fractals.’
Into randomness and order? You’ll find more about #52and40 here.
A friend died recently. She was my writing teacher first (and my first writing teacher).
I can trace roads from everything I’ve had published in the last two years to Helen, her guidance at every way-marker. Even with this map I’m disorientated; floundering in comprehending such a special woman being gone.
In grief, all roads lead inevitably to my Mum. Every funeral a little her funeral, too. Profound losses only comforted by the extreme gratitude for having shared some of the world with extraordinary people’s smiles and stories.
Joy and sorrow, innit?
Read all about #52and40 here.
Our wee extension’s starting soon and early signs say the plants are keen on change this summer too.
We’ve imposed new garden structure by getting rid of the decrepit shed, clearing the Krugeresque brambles and waving cheerio to 9m of mixed hedge which only ever managed to look tortured, despite optimistic pruning.
A winter project which leaked into spring was a new boundary fence. With this came unexpected clarity about divvying up remaining space. Digging awaits.
Clarity’s good in these mad Brexit times (as are friends with doors which make me smile).
Want more #52and40? Click here, ye of great taste.