I’ve lost Ac-sheee! I cried. — I’ve lost Ac-sheee! I cried. By the age of seven I was fully practiced in the art of getting my mother’s attention. I employed my full, tried and tested repertoire: The wheedling cry A dramatic catch in the voice An insistent tone Repeat the above until noticed. What are you…

Its indistinctness speaks volumes to me. — Its indistinctness speaks volumes to me. My very first oil painting from 1984 would have to be a self portrait. As an art student I often experimented with new media in my bedroom, where I would usually be the only available subject matter. Consequently I have several self portraits from…

It had a bomb shelter. And a pond with newts. I couldn’t believe we could afford it and, truth be told, was yet to be convinced. — It had a bomb shelter. And a pond with newts. I couldn’t believe we could afford it and, truth be told, was yet to be convinced. The move in had been difficult. March 24th 1994, a beautiful spring that found our little family blooming. Evan was one and a half…

The colours of my life in chronological order — The colours of my life in chronological order My mother’s grey eyes; my father’s brown arms; Binky’s blue and yellow self; red Christmas tree bunting with white cottonwool snow; purple Ribena; a stubby, light-green pencil; pale yellow primroses; the dark brown and black patches on my dog, Beano; poor Cock…

Ei ban, give us an anch then! — Ei ban, give us an anch then! No. Just because you’ve eaten yours already. Aww go on mun! I tore off an inch of dark green leaf and gave it to my friend to shut him up. He ate it with affected relish, his eyes watering at the strong flavour…

He’d thought long and hard about a gift for his father’s fiftieth birthday. His dad was a hard man to buy for, being rich in friends… — He’d thought long and hard about a gift for his father’s fiftieth birthday. His dad was a hard man to buy for, being rich in friends, family and socks already, and possessed of a completely un-acquisitive nature. Still, he’d have to get something. The boy had saved his money under…

Word snapshots from holidays past. — Word snapshots from holidays past. Enraptured A warm evening on a Lisbon high street thronged with strolling tourists. A sound like a golden ball dropped into a silver bowl announces my first encounter with an angel. A slight, albino-esque woman stands in a white spotlight. Her effortless, birdlike voice fills the…

Where does the time go? Why can I remember so little of it? — Where does the time go? Why can I remember so little of it? *Paul Weller, Town Called Malice Look at that photograph. The happy smile of a fulfilled, contented dad at the end of a summer’s day. Me and all four kids in our back garden, taken by my lovely…

I am glum. By early January, with another Christmas gone, I feel the dull depth of a Welsh winter dragging me down. I wake in gloom, I work… — I am glum. By early January, with another Christmas gone, I feel the dull depth of a Welsh winter dragging me down. I wake in gloom, I work all day in gloom and I walk home in gloom. It’s hard to find the joy in this enveloping cloak of grey…