I kicked off the year by re-visiting some of my favourite poets, Oswald and Ashbery, in an attempt to begin the year with some familiarity and stability. The tradition of starting each year with a collected Diaries or Journals is now in its second year  – does this qualify as a tradition?  Is it really at this point just a simple recurrence? Also, what are years? All of these are  questions that the year already thus far has had me pondering. I digress, last year I chose ‘Modern Nature’ by Derek Jarman, journals which showcase an enthusiasm and curiosity for life which is moreish; in it Jarman weaves history, poetry, horticulture, and cinema through personal experience and projects it all onto a small cottage on a shingle in Dungeness  – my pilgrimage to which is imminent (lockdown providing). I continue to digress, this years diary is ‘Of Walking in Ice’ a much shorter journal which documents Werner Herzog’s journey on foot over two months from Munich to Paris to meet a dying friend.

That’s all for now from me. Have a browse and of course if you have any recommendations for me based off of some of the books below then drop me a line!