Home-made Food
In 2017 a distant relative invited me to contribute to a family cookbook she was writing. I don’t know what happened to her project, and as far as I know
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I occasionally write more‑or‑less silly poems and more‑or‑less serious essays.
The more recent essays below are on Substack too, both in written form and also as audio in case, like me, you enjoy listening to stuff while you are driving or washing up.
In 2017 a distant relative invited me to contribute to a family cookbook she was writing. I don’t know what happened to her project, and as far as I know
Since I put more work into writing this than I did most other stuff, I am putting it here.
I don’t know how the hell I thought those first lines
I wrote this on an iPad in a moment of self reflection about thirty years after my father’s death.
I don’t really know if this is an essay or a poem.
This was an essay I wrote on an iPad in a hotel lobby in Fujairah while waiting to pick up Ania from a photography assignment.
In 2017 a distant relative invited me to contribute to a family cookbook she was writing. I don’t know what happened to her project, and as far as I know
Since I put more work into writing this than I did most other stuff, I am putting it here.
I don’t know how the hell I thought those first lines
I wrote this on an iPad in a moment of self reflection about thirty years after my father’s death.
I don’t really know if this is an essay or a poem.
This was an essay I wrote on an iPad in a hotel lobby in Fujairah while waiting to pick up Ania from a photography assignment.
