I’ve decided that after… wow is it really 6 years… I am going to be gradually moving this blog to Tumblr. I realize that some people really hate Tumblr, so I’ll try to justify this decision.

First, I’ve found it very hard to find good content on WordPress. That’s not to say good writing doesn’t exist on WordPress, but it’s been hard for me to find. Browsing WP is difficult!

Second, I no longer have the spare time to write as much as I want, and I can write something short enough to be a Tumblr post much more quickly than I feel I can write something worthy of being a WP post.

Third, I made some creative decisions recently that I think fit the Tumblr model better. One is that I hate stanzas. Poetry should not have to advertise itself by fitting a particular shape. And writing that happens to be a paragraph of text should not be barred from being poetry. The second is that I want to do more visual word pieces.


You can now find me at I will be making visuals from some of my older writing and adding new things I enjoy; definitely I won’t be copy pasting all my old posts over.

I hope that some of you will choose to join me there for this new adventure. If not, I wish you all the best. Thank you all for reading!



Random Thought #4628

It is strange that something as personal as writing can still feel so impersonal. That despite the perfect clarity of the creative outlet, there is still so much kept back, so much unsaid. Even here, I cannot say what I want to say; and therefore this is not, as I once thought it would be, a sort of therapy for me. It is a simple passing of the hours.


Extract from a magazine interview

So who is the character of Karl based on?


It’s not based on yourself for example?

No. Just a character.

But would you say that there is something of you in Karl?

No… Or, there is something of me in everyone. But that isn’t significant. I don’t create those people. Karl is a creation of mine but he isn’t me. I made this tea but the tea is not me. There may be residual heat from my hand in the teacup, or a speck of dirt from my skin, but the tea is not me. Karl is a creation, a fabrication, a made up thing. He is not real because nothing is real.

In fiction you mean?

That too.