To celebrate ten years since we made this short experimental feature I’ve decided to make mine and Chris Purdie’s Letters To The Dead...

The body was the first prosthetic Pasted onto our ghosts To bring them for a while into the present The dog that barks at God can be no...

My first words were the names of trees. Trees became books and begat more words. I became a writer. But for my father books remained...

Apparently my first words were the Latin names of various British trees whereas today my first words tend to be “argh fuck, where’s the...

Today I touched an icicle And it felt like a photograph. Faith, like time, has matter, You can sense where it's accrued. Faith is...

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed into the subject of a pioneering work of 20th century...

There have been positives, and highlights for sure, but largely I’m very much looking forward to putting this year in a sack and shooting...

Took a flight-footed cinematic pilgrimage tonight to the space-time intersection of two Leos Carax films – Pont Neuf and La Samaritaine...

Creeped out and compelled by the roving eye of the Dungeness lighthouse throwing a restless, milky beam into the fogged desert vista at...

The ticking clock, reverberated, suggests passage of time - mortality, time passing in an empty space (why are we not in the same space...

It has come to light that the extent of one's piety or asceticism has no bearing on whether one can slice a loaf of bread: the unholy...

Too harsh a climate for crime. White on white in the shallow graveyard. It is never dark in paradise; The font of human fractures As we...