The Egg, The Womb, The Head and The Moon.

When I had her. When she had me. We held. We cleaved. It is here. We were. We are. She touched me. We felt. It was.  

I am trying to make a tiny glove. I began a prototype yesterday, knitted on thin darners (perhaps 1.00 mm). This is difficult. I feel like the girl given impossible tasks in the Baba Yaga tales.    

Listen to this. It may look like your child, but it may be a changeling. It might suddenly speak to you with a man’s voice. You may come in from the kitchen to find it smoking a fag. A stepmother … Continued

I Fear.  Fearfully at times, I receive the news. War in the Crimea. Violence.  Violence. A young soldier hacked to death by British Muslims, and their cursing of us all, from the dock. When she was very little, I imagined … Continued

A woman who harms is difficult to look at, as though something shadowy can be blinding. I had a phase of depression about six years ago, characterised by looking at bad stuff on the internet. The internet can be a … Continued

Put the kettle on as soon as you arrive. Her snack; she will eat it sitting on the commode. Peeled fruit in the fridge. The herb tea. Rice cakes with bean pate. Cut the wet, brown parts off. She pees … Continued

The Real Beauty Advice Column. For mothers, older mothers, and women who are rather tired and who are artists, and who are not very perfect.   Q: Polycystic ovaries, endometriosis and cortisone have left me rather hairy. Perhaps it was … Continued

Just before I had her Before her heart was inside my body, two heartbeats in there, I had experiences of which she will never know. She isn’t very curious about me. She doesn’t ask.