Glamour

It was as my neck cricked while being told by an agitated director to lurch into Russell Howard’s groin for the twelth time that I thought “I’m beginning to suspect this job isn’t as glamorous as I thought.” I tried to shake it off so I could get the take right, but it was hard…

The Corridor Bus-Stop

Down a quiet lane in Rochford, by the muddy bank of a river’s dead-end,  nestled in the shadow of an old flour mill and half open to fields of long grass, is an old house. Like many old houses which became too expensive to run it is now a business. Broomhills Care Home. It is…

Eventually We Get There

It was about this time last year that I was stood in a giftshop at Washington’s Dulles Airport, looking for a souvenir to try and encapsulate one of the best trips of my life. I’d just spent a week on a ranch in Colorado with my friend Susie, playing at being cowgirls with real cowboys….