52and40/31 On The Fringes

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I loved this year’s Edinburgh Festival & Fringe.  It felt like mine as well as everyone else’s, for the first time.  My annual bout of imposter syndrome somehow didn’t arrive.   As my kids start to think of futures outside the city I’ve grown in mindfulness of what we have while we’re here because, as an accidental rolling stone, the sense that change is doing warm-up stretches is a twinkle in my eye.  The idea that I’ll return one day to the fringe as a tourist, sparking with happy memories, is fuel and shelter.

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52and39/32 Life Is A Cabaret

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Edinburgh put on a great show when two of my favourite people visited last week.  The sun shone and the streets filled with the spiking energy and randomness of another Fringe and Festival starting to breathe, then testing their limbs for flexibility.

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Just as intriguing as all the art, entertainment, touting and commentary in Edinburgh at this time of the year is the normal life of the city, trying to carry on regardless. I’ve decided it’s best viewed as a temporary ballet-comedy of circumstances and endeavours; people watching at its finest.

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