Making Memories

After having taken two days off from writing my diary entry, I am sat here thinking ‘ What’s it all about’? Making a mark, making marks, much like an artist, but rather than sculpting a figure or manipulating paint, I am recording memories. As fluidic as they arrive, they are now fashioned into a visual format, for the eye to see, once discarded, they are now generated into a viewable reminder, a prompt, back into my now, near past. ‘Making Memories’ is a funny thing. More later, I am about to board a train.

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A Gay Dad reflecting on life in the Shires of England with my not so famous five and two rapscallion Dalmatian hounds

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