swindon

I met a woman from Ghana, Ama, when volunteering. Ghanian names are based on the day of birth and there’s quite a fascinating ritual around it. I worked in Africa back in the days, so we dug around that, swapped stories, a fabulous chat. I encouraged her to visit Dublin someday. If she does, I […]

The writer, Maeve Binchy, was renowned for her literary soirées. Her guests were allowed ten minutes to talk about their ailments and that was it, a motto I share – enough already about dodgy hips and knees. So, here’s my few minutes’ worth. I had an operation recently to remove my cataracts. It was cosmetic,

Sometimes you meet a young person, and you know you’re in the presence of talent. My friend, Olivia Tuck, is such a person. She read her poems over a few years at Poetry Swindon, and I marvelled at her presence even though she was young and shy. Olivia holds an audience, with poems that are

You’ll hear about Philip Larkin in the coming months. It’s his anniversary. Like most people, I loved his lines: They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. There was something wild about quoting that to teachers and parents and saying: “It’s a poem, you can’t blame me.”

I love browsing the stories and photos in Archives. I’ve met some of the retired photographers and love their work. They are like ghosts behind the lenses. When I grew up in Dublin, we’d a permanent photographer on O’Connell Bridge. He was there from 9:30am to 6pm and then walked by the cinemas as they