I Wouldn't Call My Work Modernist. I

Tonight I Can Smell The Season The Way It's Usually Only Possible To At The Very First Moments Of Its Return, Before You're Used To It, When You've Forgotten Its Smell, Then There It Is Back In The Air And The Flow Of Things Shifting And Resettling Again.

Words Are Like Untying A Corset - You Can Move Into This Great Space With Them.

My Father Is From Newark In Nottinghamshire And My Mother Is From The Very North Of Ireland. They've Ended Up In Scotland, Where My Father - Well, Both Of Them - Will Always Be Seen As Having Come From Somewhere Else.

Every Great Narrative Is At Least Two Narratives, If Not More - The Thing That Is On The Surface And Then The Things Underneath Which Are Invisible.

Even Things Which Seem Separate And Finished Are Infinitely Connected And Will Infinitely Connect. This Connection Happens As Soon As You Let It, As Soon As You Engage - As Soon As You Even Attempt To Engage.