A to Z 2025 – Work, War, Words…

I confess I am not a great fan of autobiographies that begin at the beginning and follow a temporal path up to the present day – not that the person might not have some interesting stories, facts and opinions strung on their necklace, but it just doesn’t appeal as a structure. On the other hand, in my last, extra year at school in Oxford, retaking an A-level and adding a couple more, I was allowed out of school on my recognisance and saw a fascinating Exhibition at the Modern Art Gallery. The Artist had laid out and photographed every single possession of a single person – for example, all the cutlery was laid out in one shot, all the shoes in another. This more thematic approach appeals more and although I am not arranging the objects which I have chosen to tell my story in chronological order, I hope that my writing will be sufficiently interesting to keep your interest Dear Reader, and that on the journey from A to Z, you will assemble an impression of my life and who I am…

All my work is done on this computer, be it work work or writing work…

Work

If you have been following my A to Z this year, you will know that I have covered a fair few of the jobs I have done (I like to say that I have forgotten more jobs than most people have had), but what of the nature of work and working? I suppose that most of my jobs have fallen either into physical work like signwriting and cheffing, or else desk jobs such as administration/management and writing, but there are a few other classifications like teaching, call-centre work and cinema projectionist. Nowadays, as most people have caught up to me in the retrain every decade mode, at interview, it’s all about transferrable skills and the dreaded “describe a situation where you…”. For example, mixing paint and indeed painting a wall with a brush, require much the same sensitive touch as making a roux-based sauce and a fluency with spreadsheets is required in running a restaurant, calculating quantities of steel required in a building project or keeping track of one’s poetry output – who it was written for and where it has been published. As I have got older, my work has revolved more and more around the computer above – and just to think that when I was at school, there were only 3 (Mainframe)computers in the whole of Oxford and PC’s and Laptops were not even a twinkle in somebody’s eye – who knew where it would end up – not me!

War

As a teenager, with history lessons at school, and my mother’s war stories, whilst she still told them, I gradually became aware of the Second World War which finished just 10 years before I was born, of the First world War which my Grandad had been in and of various far distant conflicts going on around the world, the Suez Crisis, the Cuban Missile Crisis, Vietnam. And yet, there was a sense that World Wars at least were safely in the past, as Dylan said – we were friends with the Germans now, the world order was dedicated to peace and stability, the Rule of Law and the fruit of that stability was the Global Village. The current crop of authoritarian dictators, some, like Putin, desperately trying to turn the clock back to the grim days (as others see them) of the Cold War when Russia was Great, and the man he helped to power who also wants to Make America Great Again, despite the fact that it already was great my most measures and considered so by many people – those men and other dictators of their ilk, have succeeded in shattering the stability and raised the threat level in ways we can hardly comprehend.
Neither, many would say, does Trump, and whilst his name will likely be a byword for infamy, one day, things are likely to get worse before they get better. So far from the cosy certainties that I grow up with, what sort of future is being handed to my grandchildren, I cannot say…

Words

At 70, I feel I am a little too old and slightly broken, to become an activist carrying banners on the street, but if you have a computer and access to the internet, you have a voice and you can research and learn, search for truths, write – essays, emails, op-eds, and poems, then deploy them for the things that matter to you – wage war 0r at least counter-insurgency with words, for democracy, the environment, the downtrodden – and lest you think your voice won’t be heard or matter, an ocean is made up of drops of water and every drop counts towards the main…

Here are two of my poems, they are about America, the first written before Trump’s second election, the second afterwards, and in part, responding to the first…

America (I Would Like to Visit You)

America I would like to visit you but
I have a fear of repeatedly feeling
déjà vu having seen
your treasures and tragedies
over and over
on big screens and small
I have come to absorb
through books and films
and blogs – those love-children
of Letter From America
some understanding of your ways.

It is only my personal view
others see you quite differently
from The Land of Opportunity
to The Great Satan.
I also, of course,
know real Americans
both in the flesh
and in the virtual world
and even have relatives
a whole branch of the family.
Since my grandfather’s brother
emigrated before the First World War
he and his descendants
have demonstrated the positives
the opportunity to make good
– it might have been less opportune
if he had not been white.

Now I understand the wealth
of America could not have been so great
without the dispossession
of the previous occupants
or the relocation of millions
of slaves who
even after emancipation
worked a different kind of bondage
in the factories of Chicago.

I cannot preach
us British have no right…
just this week I read a supplement
of The [Manchester] Guardian
on how Manchester’s cotton wealth
was the fruit of slavery
just at one remove
and the Guardian
famously liberal
did little to recognise
even its own failure to comment
until now.

America
so much is squeezed
into your great cities
each pressure-cooking
a distinct language
which is so much more
than mere accent
but in between
the vast wildernesses
still exist free of graffiti
the poor of the cities
not banned
but excluded from access
nevertheless
by lacking the means
to get there

And so
America
you are a land of opposites
of natural beauty and urban ugliness
of obscene wealth and unforgivable poverty
of liberal tolerance and extreme hatred.
Maybe this is true of all countries
but America – You proclaimed yourself
to be the Great and the Good
to be the World’s Policeman
but all your policemen
carry guns
and so therefore do the bad guys
and the poor
and the rich
by inalienable right.

America
Dorothy has
pulled back the curtain
and the little man revealed
does not match up to the rhetoric
or the dream.

But still I would like to visit you
America…

Written in response to “America [superstorm]”
by Kathleen Graber from her collection – The River Twice

America (Krisis*: at the Crossroads)

America I would still like to visit you
perhaps even more urgently
– the rough beast slouched
towards Bethlehem now born
– a second coming the world
thought impossible
now come to pass
mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

How long before those Great Lakes
are poisoned by polluters
set free to do their dirty work
and national parks still safe
from the graffiti of the poor
but not from the mineral mining
gutting of once again empowered rich
cost corner-cutting pipelines
fracture and spill their black gold
on sacred reservations and beyond.

To appease his base your President
has pulled your role as policeman
to the world citing the cost
but alongside military might
your soft power saved lives
now already doomed as
vaccinations, retro-virals
and simply food are withdrawn
allies against oppression abandoned
in favour of the oppressors
and that is without the chaos
of world markets disarrayed
the world order disrupted
by a thoughtless
human hand grenade.

We British cannot talk
– we also had a Prime Minister
unelected, full of hubris, who
made leader by her party
with no electoral mandate
fancied herself a disruptor
and lasted less time than a lettuce
but whose damage lives on

– small fry compared to POTUS
whose power, mandated, he claims
has already hurt the whole world
in ways no magic reset can reverse
and in truth, his mandate was
less than half of “We the people…”
his vandals slashing government
to smash the laws that hold them back
from moving money – poor to rich
once more…

The “Land of Opportunity” that
favoured my grandfather’s brother
and many another immigrant
now demonises the souls who
would make their way too
to share the possibilities
of a bright future for their families
even as the undocumented
labour that oils the wheels
of the American economy
– fentanyl and the war on drugs
a fig leaf to the injustice
of forced repatriation of those
already embedded in America
their dreams and families shattered
by the spurious scourge of
anti-immigrant sentiment
pitting the poor
against the poorer still.

So America I would still like to visit you
but I am not sure you would let me in
with my opinions here on record
– sewn into the worldwide web
where creepy billionaires now
rule the roost and spread the lies
that fooled America’s poor
into electing their nemesis
by inflaming the emotion of their
abandoned sensibilities with
false promises wrapped up in fake news
– how long before you see the truth
and can Americans, as they have before
revolt against the white minority
who would install Gilead
the billionaires bent on plunder
the bigoted descendants of
the slave-owning South.

And if you, the people of America
find your voice and strength again
quell the krisis
reassert the values that had
America support the world order
the rule of law, the equality of man
then perhaps I will yet
get to visit America…

© Andrew Wilson, 2025

* Krisis, a Greek word meaning a pivotal decision point…

A to Z 2025 – Photography and Poetry

I confess I am not a great fan of autobiographies that begin at the beginning and follow a temporal path up to the present day – not that the person might not have some interesting stories, facts and opinions strung on their necklace, but it just doesn’t appeal as a structure. On the other hand, in my last, extra year at school in Oxford, retaking an A-level and adding a couple more, I was allowed out of school on my recognisance and saw a fascinating Exhibition at the Modern Art Gallery. The Artist had laid out and photographed every single possession of a single person – for example, all the cutlery was laid out in one shot, all the shoes in another. This more thematic approach appeals more and although I am not arranging the objects which I have chosen to tell my story in chronological order, I hope that my writing will be sufficiently interesting to keep your interest Dear Reader, and that on the journey from A to Z, you will assemble an impression of my life and who I am…

My camera setup – my Canon SLR, telephoto/macro lens, mini tripods, cable to connect to computer, a pen to record details and my camera bag which has three sections that can be joined together, middle row:- charger, my Samsung phone whose camera I now use far more than all the rest you see here, a phone to tripod mount, a clockwork camera turner (never yet used in anger. Bootom row:- Flash, with batteries, flash/camera controller, lens filter set.
One area of photography I don’t often do is Street Photography, mainly because I don’t want to intrude on people’s privacy – even if, as some photographers assert, if it is in the public domain, it’s fair game. This lady agreed to be photographed on Clacton promenade, and the result is what I think of as my Diane Arbus moment… As a teenager, I kept articles from the Sunday Times colour supplement on art and photography and an article on Diane Arbus obviously had a great effect on me…

Photography and Poetry

If you like either poetry or pictures, then this might be a feast day! I suppose there was no avoiding the fact that the two most frequent creative acts I practice would fall in the same post of this A to Z memoir – there will be photos aplenty, and poems and poems which are illustrated with my own photos – not ekphrastic poems – poems based on a photo, though I do write those from prompts by dVerse Poets Pub. There are also a couple of poems illustrated by Genrative AI – but more of that later.

It is so easy to take photographs these days compared to my first efforts with an 828 film (35mm wide with no sprocket holes so big negative/slide images) and it was cheaper to take slides than colour prints back then, so my pocket money for several weeks (I got 1 penny for each year of my age per week) went to send a film of 12 slides off for development.

Squinting in the sun on top of Table Mountain, Capetown S.A. 1968 from my other blog on photography

Nowadays most children’s first photos are taken on a mobile phone and cost nothing to take and often little to print if they have access to an ink-jet printer but it is not the same as the thrill of getting a carton of slides or an envelope of prints and negatives back from the pharmacy/ photo company. When I got those 12 slides or, later, prints, back, there were rarely wasted shots (though accidents could happen) because each shot had been carefully considered and framed before pressing the shutter. Digital pictures, and even professional photographers on a shoot, will acknowledge this, you can, and must, take hundreds of shots to get “just the right one”, and even then, it’s not guaranteed…

People are rediscovering the joy of real film photography and here are two girls so excited to see the results that they literally sat on the kerb outside the only shop in Bradford, Yorkshire, that develops film – ironically snapped by me on my mobile phone.

I have another blog on which I occasionally post where I explore my relation to photography – Photography & Me – A History, if you want to read more but for now here are just some of my favourites and the reasons why – because one of the problems with the plethora of pictures I now have, is what to do with them, how to exhibit them – even for oneself. For my recent 70th birthday, my daughter bought me a digital picture frame – so a growing number of treasures (more of sentimental than aesthetic value) are now on rotation…

With a background in painting landscapes, landscape photography remains key to me – this was taken on a day trip to Blackpool where taking into the sun (a thing you are told not to do) has washed out much of the colour around the iconic pier.
I used to travel to work across the moors, taking backroads to avoid being stuck in traffic. At the top of the moors, you can see for miles without seeing a single human habitation – empty or, as in this early Summer shot, filled with Buttercups and Bog Cotton…
Just a little further along the road, descending once more into civilisation, a large old farmhouse on a misty morning…
Modern camera phones excel at what I like to call Plant Portraits, especially close ups and the camera is always in your pocket – I did not know that the jade tree (see also my “C” post) had flowers as I never saw them in England but over the Winter of 2020, locked down in Crete, I watched these flower buds open into tiny flower on big bushes of Jade Tree…
I don’t have many photos of me because I am usually the one taking the photos at family events but here, in one of the last of my era of slide taking, I am simultaneously the joint subject and the photographer with two lovely friends with whom I shared a squat in Brixton, London and who have sadly disappeared from my life… BTW – check out my full head of 70’s hair!
Often photography is about being in the right place at the right time and seizing the moment – this picture was taken from a lorry/car ferry to Ireland as it set sail from the docks in Liverpool, next to the container port and no other vantage point would have captured it. The colour is slightly abnormal because it was taken with an HDR setting…
Sometimes the bizarre just has to be captured – I found this mutilated Barbie on a pavement in Blackheath, London and placed it on a wall, partly as a setting but also in the vain hope that somebody might reclaim her…
Another right place, right time, and this one, which looks like it might have been HDR, is not…
An abstract shot – snow on our Velux skylight…
A simple abstract snap until you know that these staples and thumbtacks mark the place where death notices are posted announcing the funeral details on the walk into Elounda, Crete, to do shopping in lockdown – ghosts of the community…
On the same walk as the previous shot. tiny Olive flowers…
Although I lugged my camera bag to Crete, where we spent 6 months during covid, I hardly used my SLR camera, taking so many photographs on my excellent phone camera, but this was one subject that the phone camera couldn’t cope with – panning and zooming simultaneously to follow the kite-boarders. They came from all over Crete despite lockdown to the bay at Elounda where at the southern end of the bay, a causeway blocks waves whilst allowing strong winds to provide perfect conditions for the sport – the SLR triumphs!
A wind sculpted rock formation from the Sahara? No! All that’s left of a rotted piece of wood from our bathroom which I had to replace. The wood around the screws had survived and I photographed it on top of our blue car…

Poetry

It was the A to Z that connected me to a couple of poets who are also attendees at dVerse Poets Pub, which drew me into writing more poetry – 208 poems in two years at the last count. dVerse post prompts 3-4 times a week, which can be subject or poetry method-based. – I highly recommend it… I also belong to an Amherst Writers writing group where we start by looking at a poem and then write in the shadow of it. The group facilitator, a retired doctor, Deborah Bayer, combines Amherst methodology with Healing Journey concepts so the poems that come from the group are often introspective or memoir in content.

Today I am going to give links to poems that I published here on the blog and illustrated with photos of my own plus a couple which I used Midjourney to illustrate. First however, this poem. It is written in the Duplex form, which I particularly like because each couplet passes on the baton of theme to the next couplet, giving a fast-moving, eclectic exploration of an idea that almost seems to write itself…

An Ode to Food Moments

Food was always the focus of family
always sitting down to eat all meals together

We did not go about separate lives
or help ourselves to leftovers from the fridge

Our mother refused to let my father cook
though he well could, and would have enjoyed to

Christmas morning was the exception – proved the rule
carving the ham, drop scones, grapefruit halves

Picnics were a chance for creative sandwiches
grated apple and chopped date, cream cheese and grape

Dinner parties brought forth beef olives from a magazine
my first beer next day – awful dregs at the bottom of a bottle

My Granny’s seventieth cake – a Dresden firestorm
with seventy candle power of heat melting inward

A picnic by Victoria’s Murray River
whilst fishing for who knows what with yabbies…

University evoked family meals
where we JCR sat down together for evening meals

Then, food on film – The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
always about to eat but coitus interruptus

And the winner for Best Conflict Resolution Through Food –
Babbette dissolves all community feuds with a Christmas feast!

Are not all remembered meals filmic moments
salted away in the memory and aged to perfection

To be brought out on special occasions of family reminiscence
or encountered in the random, channel-hopping of life…

© Andrew Wilson, 2023

Though it looks like a photograph, the image illustrating this poem is in fact the result of a period of experimenting with Generative AI (see the button at the top of the page) and I include it here because arriving at a good prompt turns out to be an art all of its own…
This poem is in the same vein, and I include it for the sheer beauty of the image which when it emerged from Midjourney – took my breath away… I have stopped using Midjourney to illustrate poems, partly because I feel they can overshadow the poem and partly because of the debate over the fairness to artists whose work may have been used to train LLM’s (Large Language Models).

Roadtrip Review N0. 2

If you have not been following this blog for the last month of April, I have been participating in the A-Z Challenge in which participants write alphabetically on a topic of their choosing. Writing is only half the story – with some 218 participants, the idea is to read the blogs of old friends and newcomers alike and if you don’t manage to do that during April, then the Roadtrip that follows in May is the chance to see what everybody else has been up to…

Ronel the Mythmaker besides being the splendid Graphic Designer who furnished the A-Z Challenge 2024 with all its banners and letters this year, Ronel is a writer whose books deal with the Fae or fairy world and for her own A-Z this year, she has given us as compendious a guide to all the forms of the Fae in world folklore. Ronel lives in South Africa and I find it hard to imagine that in that land of bright sunshine and big skies, there lives a soul whose fascination with the Fae, have led her to explore the often dark side of folklore but that she has! Everything you might want to know about the creatures of the Fae but never dared to ask… As well as her writing and graphics, Ronel is a mistress of the dark arts of all digital media including sound, and illustrates her posts copiously, including the one I have linked to – Dark Fae: Ghouls…

By Sarah is a blog by Sarah Whiley from Australia and she must post late at night for she often pops up in my Jetpack app just as I, am getting up. She posts poems and photographs each of which, incrementally reveals the character and life of the eponymous Sarah. I don’t always comment on her posts some, like the photograph below for “Wordless Wednesdays” do not require an answer, but often a comment has followed hard on the heels of Sarah posting – winging its way from and to the antipodes by the miracle of modern technology. Sarah has become part of my life and her photographic theme for A-Z 2024 was about corners – corners of things and things found in corners – dip into Sarah’s quirky view of the world…

https://bysarahwhiley.wordpress.com/2024/05/08/wordless-wednesday-8-5-24/

The Multicoloured Diary is a blog by Zalka Csenge Virág Storyteller from Hungary and is another one dealing with Folklore from around the world. I enjoyed Zalka’s previous A-Zs so this was like connecting with an old friend. This year the theme was Romance tropes in Folklore and like Ronel, Zalka is compendious in her research and posting – despite the fact that she had family issues pulling at her, Zalke finished the challenge in flying form once more…

The Insecure Writers Support Group – Worry Beads…

This year I have plunged into writing more than ever before – the April A to Z Challenge led to a world of poetry, I recently wrote a deep essay on changing our relationship with the motor car, I am re-working the first draft of a novel and of course, a great deal of my day job, two and a half days a week is spent writing. Also in the course of the year, I encountered through other writers, the Insecure Writers Support Group and then yesterday, the group post announced their twelfth anniversary!

Recently I have been reading Margaret Atwood “on”On Writers and Writing” and in an early chapter, she writes about the duality of writers – how there exists “the one who writes and the one who lives” and she explores the inevitable tensions that having such a split induces – the Jekyll and Hyde nature of the beast. I write because I am driven internally to do so, but externally, my partner is going through a difficult time which means that staying close to her, there is a lot of time which I fill with writing.

I have no illusions about publishing work – I once heard the statistic that 4000 novels are written for each one published. That may have changed in a digital age when self-publishing is ever easier – even if it is only on your blog. Still, whilst I am now polishing a second draft of a speculative novel, the act of passing through the stages of the journey towards publishing has a zen of its own. I am not saying that there is no anxiety about whether a piece of writing is “good enough”, or whether people will like my latest poem but for me, travelling hopefully is as important as arriving…

I left Ireland to return to the UK in 2005 but not before my late sister Carol, had rekindled my joy in writing by taking me to an in-person writing group in Sligo. A first novel was started (and is still in progress) and a second more straightforward one is that which I am revising, and so I thank Carol for that gift and I dedicate the following poem – the product of an online and ongoing writing group and I offer it towards the Insecure Writers Support Group and its anniversary since it is appropriately entitled “Worry Beads”. Back in July, it was also the 12th anniversary of dVerse Poets Pub so 2011 must have been an inspired year for poets – anyway, I posted a poem for their celebration here.

Worry beads…

The state of the nation
is held in abeyance
holding it’s breath till the next election
the polls show a twenty point
Labour lead – but I worry
they still might lose
and if they win I worry too
they may not be different enough
having posed in the centre
to avoid alienating anyone.

I worry that my grandchildren
All young adults flown the nest
may not be able to buy a
house of their own, their own nest.
The doctor and his bright partner
will earn enough but will the rapper
find his way high enough
to have financial success
or will he fall like a spent rocket
to a job supporting other’s dreams
I believe he too worries
although it doesn’t slow him down.
The oldest by some years
has already built several businesses
and not anchored by children
only cats and cake-making
he and his girlfriend will
go to America again and again
and one day they won’t come back.

I worry that despite all help
my spouse will not
find her way out
of the deep, dark past
where she is lost in the labyrinth
and no breadcrumb trail
to lead her back to the light.
As I keep her shell company
in front of the TV
I do not take enough exercise
already impeded by a lame leg
I know it cannot be wise
and I will shorten my natural span
which after all
is only two years short
of three-score years and ten.

I write to keep a space for me
And to reach out to new friends
across the digital ether
but pushing a pen is not the same
as pushing through the wall and
I do not want to be found
one day slumped across a keyboard
mid-virtual conversation.

Still, on a scale of one to ten
my worries rate quite low
I have made marks both
in the world, in certain hearts
and in minds too
the legacy of things
is not as vital as a lot of love.

And so I write for love
not glory, the oldest profession
is surely to tell a good story
and whilst I love to get good feedback
if I don’t get published,
will I really worry?

© Andrew Wilson, 2023

Roadtrip Review No. 6 – a self-review…

Borne up and drawn in
by fast becoming friends’
web of writing prompts

Writing is a unique space for me and increasingly so. My dear departed sister encouraged me to go to a writing group in Sligo, Ireland – a place full of writers and artists and all in the shadow of the poet WB Yeats. Indeed, when I first moved there in 1995, one of my early commissions as a signwriter and, it turns out, a muralist, was to paint a mural of WB Yeats on a new secondhand bookshop – The Winding Stair – named for the title poem of one of Yeats’ books of poetry – you can see me painting it here. I had studied Yeatss at school in English (Literature) which replaces the English (Creative) of earlier school years – why do they do that? I also painted a little but didn’t want to go down the road of fine art because I perceived that artists are so often groomed by galleries encouraging them to produce more of what sells rather than following their own creative wanderings. And so I became a signwriter (painted not computer-cut vinyl) where the creative input is much smaller and constrained by a brief but, I felt, more honest and more sure as a means of making a living. Moving to Ireland gave me a new burst of creative freedom as a signwriter – especially after doing the Yeats mural although some years later, The Winding Stair closed down and the subsequent occupiers of the shop painted over my “masterwork” – a lesson in the zen of attachment to earthly achievement…

Going back to the writing group, it was such a pleasure to rediscover the joy of putting words on the blank canvas of the page – I produced a slim volume of the group’s writings including a CD of the members reading their pieces – and then I discovered blogging… By now it was 2005 and my partner and I moved back to England to see more of our growing grandchildren, and as we waited to complete our stable-to-house conversion, there was no time to make friends in the community and so blogging remained my virtual circle of friendship. I belonged to a blog -site called Mo’time run by an American living in Italy, who created Mo’time as a test bed for ideas for the larger site which was his job. Sadly, the larger site was sold and Mo’time terminated and though we made several attempts to kindle a new space – it was never the same – however I still see quite a few Mo’timers on Facebook.

Then in 2020, on April 1st – I stumbled across the A to ZX Challenge and as the pandemic was taking hold, I plunged in! Each year has been differently themed and I have encountered new fellow writers as well as old friends. This year, however, writing was even more central – my theme was on the etymology of phrases and so was like honey to writing bees and I have joined another writing group – not in the flesh, but by Zoom and our facilitator is also an A to Z-er. What has been different though, is that through the new writing friends I have made (and reviewed here on my Roadtrip) I have encountered a world of other blogging challenges, written, photographic and especially poetry. Since my writing group is prompted by poems and much of what I have written has been (Free) Verse, it was like an alignment of the planets – instead of tailing off into silence after the A to Z finished, I am being tempted and indeed succumbing to all sorts of new challenges as well as writing in my group. I created the picture at the top of this post using Midjourney – another takeaway from this year’s A to Z (thanks to Misky and Vidya) to convey the sense of both support and crazy fear of falling out of control and spending my whole time writing challenge posts! So far I have engaged with Six Degrees of Separation, the Poet’s Pub and Sadje’s WDYS (What Do You See) and in the interests of Life/Work/life balance, I think that may be enough for now – things should be a pleasure and not a pressure… And then there are two novels to get back to, one finished to first draft and the other, a more serious work, with a lot of writing to go! And I used to spend a lot of time keeping abreast of the news! And then there’s the allotment – water and weed it or lose it! And then there is my partner, children and grandchildren not to mention two and a half days at work…

Here’s the thing though, within reason, the more you do, the more you fit in because what goes is the dross, the stuff that didn’t really matter, write poetry not protest seems to be where I am right now…

P. S. I have been told that I am not great at communicating, say, enthusiastic responses, that I may even be on the spectrum, but when I write, even though I may not feel the feelings whilst in the act of writing, be it poetry, prose or fiction, when I read back emotional content, I emote with the best of them, tear up – the works. So I guess writing is my medium of expression…