shelfie

not really seen much daylight today, so you're getting a blip of one little part of my bookcases, and a few of my poetry books, some of which are very precious to me. There are scruffy little books there that have been on and off my many bedside tables for over 30 years. I go back and back to poems like some people would turn to music or prayers. Eliot, Plath, Ginsberg, Heaney, Dylan Thomas have all been with me since I was a teenager. And similarly, I add to them regularly with new. As you can see I am a massive fan of Robin Robertson....I heard him read in Manchester Exchange Theatre 3 years ago. He was the "support act" to Carol Ann Duffy. I didn't know his work at all, but he just blew me away with his rough north east Scottish accent and mesmerising poems. Consequently have been an avid fan since.

The other precious thing is my gorgeous Mr Cheung. I bought him from a tiny village just outside Xian in northern China having watched a group of old craftsmen carving characters out of these fabulous branches. He cost about £5. It was an incredibly serene place and the craftsmen were so talented. I remember there being lots I could have chosen, but this little fella caught my eye not just because of the fabulous grain in his cloak but because I think he was the only one with a face that was smiling. He lives on my bookcase but often comes down when I'm reading as he's very tactile and a go0d listener !