words...

 Words at play on a page have always been my paint on a blank white canvas. Words paint pain… and pleasure, but even the pleasure is often born of pain. Afterall, when it comes to art or literature, one of the facets that fascinates me the most is the context… the life and mind of the artist as well as their environment. My context is that, beyond words, I am not comfortable with much. For instance, when people ask me to take care of a baby animal, I get nervous these days. If someone asks me to work with physical equipment, I feel uncertain, only comfortable in solitude, writing or reading. 

                  06:30am and I tune to the soccer match of my hometown team, Wigan Athletic. Today they are playing away in Huddersfield. I remember, many years ago, when I was married and my mother was alive, I drove from Wigan to Huddersfield with my mother and wife in the car. I dropped them both at the home of my mother’s friend, and I went to watch Wigan play against Huddersfield. The town is far North and it is flat and cold. The day was dismal, as was the game… ending in a 0-0 draw. It’s incredible how a current event can trigger a long-forgotten memory like that. 

                  Today I make a similar journey in a very different landscape. I will be driving to North Texas for the day and night to watch FC Dallas v the San Jose Earthquakes and to explore the local area a little with its English pubs and American breweries. The weather is beautiful, so it should be a pleasant experience. 



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