This is from life, I was there: exploring secrets hidden behind shapes, colours and scents – the smell of that philadelphus, god almighty! In Canto One I lived on, flew … Continue reading Canto One
I came across this inscription recently in Kirkliston Kirkyard. The inscription of the man had eroded so much that it is no longer possible to know his name.
I came across this much broken and worn tombstone in Kirkliston Kirkyard. I believe it commemorates Alexander Gibson who was 50 years a gardener at Newliston House.
From ‘Pale Fire’ by Vladimir Nabokov.
This film is for my daughter Rachel. June 2019: We were based at Dryburgh – the home of the Earl of Buchan and the resting place of Walter Scott. Music … Continue reading a new canto
A short passage from Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov.
This is from another short passage in Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov.
I have just finished reading Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov. It is interesting to read comments from this book about psychiatry.
[the words of Vladimir Nabokov]
From Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov. The ‘epic poem’ of S H A D E immediately follows . . .
From the bank of the river Tweed looking towards Abbotsford I wrote a poem. A poem to my faither. A branch of an old tree was my seat.
Yesterday we returned from a short break in the Scottish Borders. We were staying at Dryburgh once the home of the 11th Earl of Buchan – a wonderful eccentric who … Continue reading Reappearing on the horizon of a new canto