A picture of the TARDIS as taken at BBC Wales reception by me (Andrew Wong) in 2005. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) Whilst wandering about the Internet I found a website which lists all the various locations used in the filming of Dr Who (in case you didn't realise, this is going to be a geeky post... Continue Reading →
They called her Hildegard the Wielder. At first glance, it was not easy to understand why. She was but a young woman, small and slight, with tangled dark hair and dark, knowing eyes. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her. On second glance though, things became clearer. Strapped across her back, was a sword... Continue Reading →
Charles Dicken's birthplace lies tucked away in Portsmouth. The street is a sore thumb of nineteenth-century architecture in amongst a labyrinth of blocky sixties tower blocks. Dickens didn't live in the house long, moving to London when he was still a young child. The museum that is now in his old house doesn't include any... Continue Reading →
English: The main reading romm of Graz University Library (19th century) on 2 Sep 2003. Picture taken and uploaded by Dr. Marcus Gossler. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) For a large part of my life, libraries were my sanctuary. My parents were regular visitors and would take my brother and I in every few weeks. My child’s... Continue Reading →
We've been away for a few days in the wilds of Dartmoor, an area thick with inspiring scenery and mythology. Our home away from home was an manor house turned hotel, complete with roaring fires, wood panelling, a cosy library - and possibly a ghost or two. I'm not sure if it was the hotel... Continue Reading →
Upon a bridge I met a troll, his features weary, his countenance droll. His figure squashed into an ill fitting suit, his sharp claws poking from the front his boots. 'Do you mean me to eat me?' I inquired, for I’d never seen a troll thus attired. 'Yes sir,’ he said, 'that is my intention,... Continue Reading →
There's a worm at the bottom of the well, that curls in it’s unkind skin. The town around it whirls and ebbs, but it finds no peace within. There's a worm at the bottom of the well and I can hear it crying. It’s bursting claws and oozing scales, make living seem like dying. There’s... Continue Reading →
I use words like knives and slice up your heart, but you must know I love you. I disappear to dark days and leave you stranded here, but your must know I need you. I have bruises under my skin and you must not touch them, but you must know I feel you. I hide... Continue Reading →
Her wings hurt. Fear had pushed her to fly further than she should have. It was exhaustion that finally made her land. Now she sat on a grey tooth rock, chilled by a wind off a wide, grey lake. There was no sign of civilisation. And that was good. Her wings itched. They were dry... Continue Reading →
"A platform for freaks, misfits, and the occasional well balanced individual." This is Zozoville. Zozoville is a collaboration between Johan Potma and Mateo Dineen. I encountered their work on a trip to Berlin where they and the Zozoville Gallery are based. Walking through a small craft market in the museum district, I noticed a stall... Continue Reading →
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