Beauty Loves the Beast

I decided to post something a little different this month; A little work of fiction, with a hint perhaps of non fiction… ‘People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone.’                                …

I See You.

I pulled the car out of the white-water rush of traffic, parked and jumped out. I was in search of last minute potatoes in the middle of down town Kingston rush hour. Traffic fumes assaulted the senses at every turn, traffic noise beat at ear drums, a cacophony of chaos. The small street stall had…

The Light In Our Eyes

Seconds, minutes, hours, days… all wound up in moments of time. Thousands of these moments thread through our lives, entering and leaving, unremarkable, unnoticed, and later unremembered. But not all moments are lost in this way, some moments etch themselves into minds forever, carving themselves into the walls of our consciousness, returning again and again,…

Imperfectly, Beautiful, Messy, Wonderful

There is a castle in my daughters bedroom towering over her toys. This castle began as a modest cardboard soy milk crate when my daughter was four years old and over the next four years was added to, and added to until it became a palatial expanse with cream painted walls and gold topped turrets;…

Human Eyes

A single moment passes so quickly, yet can change a life forever. I was in the back seat of our family car. I watched the world from here a lot in my early years. I used to love long car rides, the passing scenery mingling with my day-dreams, the open Australian sky, presiding over cities,…

A Small Corner in the Sun

One of the places I love most in all the world is here in Jamaica, in the small corner in the sun where the river meets the sea at Frenchman’s Cove. This is a place awash with  memories of family moments. It is also the place where my four year old son first learned to…

The Human Moment

I looked out my kitchen window. My daughter was in the front drive perched in an unsteady lean on her bicycle, one foot planted on the ground, the other on the peddle. She was talking with Alex, the young man who sometimes worked in our yard. He stooped down as he listened to her soft…