Sometimes my best writing is in my comments to other people
I know for a fact that whenever I’m not in London I want to be back there. I have a cankering for my own bed – my own place. Theres always a certain smell, a feel, an emotion about a city that you wear like a cloak.
I don’t think we ever give up our security blankets as children. I think we just transform our world into one. Wrapping up against the cold night. Ahhh – The city is a mistress, warm in her bossoms.