A solstice day on the river and the riverbank, involving turning boats, ducks, and the way joy pushes out despair
And listen to Erland Cooper’s A Nightingale Sings Outside Our Window
A solstice day on the river and the riverbank, involving turning boats, ducks, and the way joy pushes out despair
And listen to Erland Cooper’s A Nightingale Sings Outside Our Window
On June 19, as we head towards the solstice, my #AudioMo is a reflection on the week, and lockdown, and the importance of understanding how the pandemic is experienced elsewhere.
It’s June 18 but I have little to say for today’s #AudioMo. I’ll read Cheryl Misak’s Frank Ramsay biography instead.
For my #AudioMo for June 17 I’ve disinterred a fairly random note from over a year ago about time travel and jewel thefts. It came from a time when I travelled on trains.
In my #AudioMo for June 16 I’m reflecting on #Bloomsday and the summer to come, and wondering what will happen to holidays and travel in 2020 – and what this means for those of us who are used to the summer being a slow time in the office.
It’s June 15 and a change of topic for me in #AudioMo – away from space, and into time as I reflect on the small object that sits on my desk and keeps me company as I write.
Heading into #AudioMo for June 14 and I’m picking up on the extended conversation about presence and space in our blended world, with @katesparkle @Omaniblog @willsh & @diva_diplomatic – but this time from the beach.
In my #AudioMo for June 13 I reflect on the ways we can reconfigure public space as we adapt to Covid-19, and how we need those who own private space to adapt.
My AudioMo contribution for June 12 is a reflection on commuting – or its absence. And a realisation that it’ll never go back to the way it was before.
My #AudioMo post for June 11 is a meditation on how hard it can seem to change systems.