Being a woman

Being a woman
Is a marvellous thing

From our boobs to our fingers
And fairytale wings.

Dejá vous

Anger

That’s what I’m feeling

Rage at myself

For doing it again

My gut says I’m a tool

For his transition

A momentary pawn

To help him move on

Melancholy

That ache so familiar

Should I walk away

Or ride through the pain

So often that person

Helping another’s journey

What about mine

My needs realised

Foolish

That’s how I feel

Same old, same old

Dejá vous.

Snug wooden lodges

Caddy's Corner is a small family business that offers superb self catering accommodation in Cornwall. 

Wonderfully located bang in the middle of a World Heritage site, the lodges are surrounded by wildflower meadows, with no street lamps or passing cars nearby. Now that's a holiday.

I helped the team sum up their offer online.

An honest business

I like Edinburgh. The stone, the iron railings, the cobbled streets, the architecture - it’s a world apart from Cornwall.

The city has an energy that’s intimate yet cosmopolitan, with friendly bus conductors and a world renowned arts and literary festival. A disproportionately large percentage of the world’s ginger population live here, as well as oodles of authors, comedians and musicians.

What else do I love about the city where I grew up? Every café and restaurant offers up oats as the basis of most meals, locals are passionate about politics, and you can always find a good coffee.

I headed up earlier this year to get to know Office Space Scotland, my first client north of the border. A distinctive and friendly firm offering serviced offices, I've been involved in developing a tone of voice for the firm, alongside brochure copy, website and marketing material.

Challenging tradition

Christmas cake or passion fruit pavlova, mulled wine or Pom-Pom cocktails, tinsel or hand knitted baubles? 

timbatree tends towards the latter, loving the unconventional choice. That’s why they've designed and built an alternative tree that will bring a little touch of style to Christmas, and last a lifetime.

I was lucky enough to get involved refreshing their tone of voice, website and PR.

Let me tell you a story

I'd like to tell you why Zephyr rebranded. It’s a story that will likely chime with many businesses – they felt their identity no longer reflected who they were. It was too baggy, the colours were wrong, it felt like an identity a little sister might wear.

So the team immersed themselves in themselves, and drilled down into how they'd like to be seen and heard. They hung out at a car fair, went for a surf and lost themselves in the sound of the sea. They took a long hard look at their work, observed each other in meetings, talked about their clients and target market, a lot.

The conclusions they came to were they’re a confident agency, simple and bold, with an assured know how. Proud of their work and sought after by clients, they build relationships that last.

The team's inspiration comes from the landscape and sea, sportsmen and women striving to reach the top of their game, design that’s timeless and admired world over.

And now they're confident their brand says ‘Zephyr’. I can honestly say it feels like them - no messing, straight up, can do. It has an integrity, and you know what, it was delivered on time and on budget. Yup, it's Zephyr to the core.

I've been privileged to word on the agency's brand strategy, tone of voice, website, PR, and marketing material.

The Zephyr location

Waiting to donate

Red is blood.

Red is anger.

Red is passion.

Red is the pulse of life.

Heat, energy, drive, ambition,

Determination, confidence, power dressing.

Danger.

Adobe, Youtube, Virgin.

Costa, Heinz, Pinterest.

Coca Cola.

Strawberries,

Rioja,

Tomatoes,

Cochineal,

Tizer,

Steak done rare.

A searing pain, that’s what red is.

Sharp, and it leaves a stain.

That stain can last forever.

Red does damage.

Crimson, Scarlet, Monopoly.
Michael Hutchence.

Strength, get up and go, I don’t take no shit.

Don’t fuck with me, I’m red.

Labour, left wing, right wing, middle wing,

Nothing wing.

Wilson, Blair, Brown, Milliband.

Big, but not big enough.

Goodbye, it’s over.

Really over.

Kaput, the end.

No finale.

I don’t like red.
I never have.

It’s too much,
All garish, over confident.
Have you ever seen a mellow red?

But I reckon everyone,
However disparaging,
Owns at least one piece of red clothing.

Mine's a single pair of racy knickers,
For the days I want the balls of Coca Cola.

Filter

Behind every dawn
A death
A fading collection
Of lived in moments

Some disappear
Without thought
Sucked in by the dark
Blindly forgotten

Others tease
As fireflies in the night
Their manifestation
A chance unknown

The ubiquitous
Does the haunting
Creeping beneath
Midnight skin

Plucky kidnappers
Seize the spirit
With a vision
Of what might be

Glowing twinkles
From the day
Stars to carry
Through the next

The wise old soul
Singles out
Each night's treasure
For his waking.

Those Little Things

Blimey, it’s winter,

The nights have closed in,

And life seems that little bit tougher.

Now, where are those moments,

That make us go “Mmmm,

I like the dark damp cold.”

Try wrapping those arms,

Around a soul you love,

Feel the heartbeat of another.

Or step out the door,

And be with the earth

The racing pulse of our Mother.

Go watch the sea,

And run through the sand,

Breathe some life into your wings.

Spice up your dinner,

Make it warm, make it soft,

Enjoy the comfort it brings.

Feel the simple pleasure

Of sinking down

In a tub of bath time bliss.

Or sip on some red,

Some deep red wine,

That thaws our frosted lips.

Wish on a star,

Ask for those dreams,

Universe, send us what may.

Then tuck up early

Be in bed before nine

And let night fall away from the day.