After almost five years of blogging here, it's time to move on to pastures new!

Follow the Yellow has now moved on to www.followtheyellow.co.uk

I won't be updating the blog here any longer, so please do come and visit me at my shiny new blog home: I'd love to see you there...

Things ­Organized Neatly does exactly what is says on the tin: this strangely compelling photography blog collects and catalogues carefully ordered images. The brainchild of Indianapolis design student Austin Radcliffe, it sets out to document 'things that have been laid out carefully, precisely, evenly; things on shelves, in vices; studio photography, diagrams and right angles' - be they matchboxes, spoons, cake ingredients, or even bananas.

[All images from Things ­Organized Neatly]

A couple of things happened yesterday that got me thinking. The first was that the very nice people at Central Station featured Follow the Yellow Brick Road in the Spotted column of their online bulletin, alongside some great Manchester artists and projects. The link reads: discover top cultural commentary on events taking place in Manchester in this blog by Katherine Woodfine. Lovely. But when I clicked through on the link, I realised with shame that I hadn't actually written anything about Manchester since February. Oops.

Seeking a diversion, I turned to my Twitter feed (ah, Twitter, ever an endless source of distraction) where I spotted that the nominations for this year's Manchester Blog Awards are now open. I started thinking about which of my many favourite Manchester blogs I was going to nominate - and then suddenly realised that for the first time since I started writing it, my own blog wouldn't be eligible. I don't live in commuting distance of Manchester and now I've finished my Masters, I'm not even studying there anymore. The last time I even went to Manchester was.... months ago. And that's when it hit me: I live in London now.

Perhaps that might sound pretty obvious: after all I've been here for over a year. But when I first moved down to London, I really felt I had a foot in both camps. I was still still coming up to Manchester often for dissertation supervision meetings, and readings, and to see friends, and to go to exhibitions. Being in London felt very temporary and I was thinking of myself as a sort of jet-setting hybrid, part-Manchester, part-London: in transit, or as I believe Creative Tourist put it so aptly, 'flitting between the two'.

But I can no longer claim to be a part-time Londoner. I have a full time job here; I have friends; I have a flat, and mysteriously (in spite of my original decision to leave most of my stuff in my mum's jam-packed attic and lead a more minimal existence) have acquired enough stuff to fill it with, including several shelves-worth of books. I know the best ways to cycle to places on my bike, the short-cuts down the back streets. I have favourite places to eat. I know where previously unknown locations like Crouch End and Herne Hill and Walthamstow are; and what's more, I've become one of those London people who is always enthusiastically comparing boring details of their commute with people they meet. I've even stopped calling it That London, except in a sort of jolly self-deprecating fashion when talking to people who live elsewhere. And though I still go north regularly, it's usually to stay with my mum up in Lancaster, rather than to visit Manchester anymore.

I still can't see myself living in London forever - in my view it's a great place to be for a couple of years before you move on. Yes, the public transport may be amazing, and it always seems to be sunny, and there are loads of restaurants and galleries and interesting places to go to, but I'm sure after a while that all that will pale beside my insatiable need for wet walks on windswept moors, steak and kidney pudding with chips and gravy, and conversations with other people who call a cup of tea 'a brew' and who know what the word 'mither' means. And who knows, perhaps before very long I'll end up back in Manchester. But for the moment I think I'll have to hold my hands up and admit to it: right now, I'm a Londoner.

So what does that mean for Follow the Yellow Brick Road? It's a good question. Because much as there are are a million and one exhibitions and literature events to go to here in London, one thing I've noticed is that the arts scene here feels strangely impenetrable. I miss the friendliness of Manchester's arts scene and that sense of belonging. The brilliant hubs of cultural activity that exist in Manchester that open things up to everyone and make connections between people - like the Manchester Blog Awards and Creative Tourist, like Kate Feld's Manchizzle blog or over in Leeds, the Culture Vulture - just don't seem to exist here in quite the same way, or at least if they do, I'm yet to discover them. And though I'm always excited by new exhibitions and things I want to see (right now, Alice Neel and the new Jake & Dinos Chapman children's commission at the Whitechapel), I'm still equally excited, often even more excited, by all the great things that are going on in the north. This autumn, for example, I can't wait to check out Manchester Literature Festival, the Liverpool Biennial, AND festival, the Northern Art Prize... I could go on. The idea of not being in the north, not writing about the north makes me feel incredibly sad.

That's why in the end, what this really comes down to is nothing more than a teeny tiny edit in the blog description, up there in the top right hand corner of the screen. That extra word... um... "sometimes" (bet you're glad you bothered to read the whole of this blog post now, aren't you?) Or then again, on the other hand, I suppose you could say it comes down to a whole lot more.

I struggle to put it into words, so instead I'm going to leave you with a link to something else: Lydia Unsworth's winning story about Manchester from the Rain Never Stops Play short story competition run by Creative Tourist and Rainy City stories, which I read for the first time this evening. Somehow she manages to express all this far better than I can: The City is Leaving Me. Or perhaps, while I wasn't noticing, it had already left...

Hello! Anyone still there?

I'm back to blogging business after my extended break - and with a picture of pigeons wearing hats too, just to strike a suitable note of celebration.

Normal service will resume shortly: the next few posts will be dedicated to a few notable and/or interesting things I've seen during my weeny blog holiday.

[Image from Nassmerder via Tumblr]

I'm taking a short break from blogging for a while. I'm not sure when I'll next be back here, but in the meantime you might find me on tumblr here, on twitter here or even on delicious here.

Au revoir for now!

[Image from A Child's Garden of Verses, by Robert Louis Stevenson illustrated by Brian Wildsmith -- via Tumblr]

You might already have heard of theblogpaper, which describes itself as “the first user-generated newspaper in London". Anyone can publish blogs, photos and comments to theblogpaper website, which are then rated by the community of site users. The highest rated and most discussed content is then “promoted” to a printed newspaper produced once a month, which acts as an aggregate for the site content, and is distributed for free at tube stations and the like.

The project is still in beta phase at the moment, and is certainly an intriguing and exciting idea. I’d already heard about theblogpaper, via the Manchizzle, when they got in touch with me a little while back, and invited me to get involved. In the interests of giving it a go, I submitted this little review of the Museum of Everything to the site, which made it into the third edition of the newspaper (which also includes a great piece on Banksy by my blogging compatriot runpaintrunrun). I haven’t yet got my hands on a hard copy of the paper, but you can read it online here.

However, though I love the idea of a more democratic, "crowdsourced" approach to publishing, I must confess to finding the experience itself slightly odd. I'm not sure exactly what I feel about blog posts being rated and scored: surely one of the greatest things about blogging is that it gives us the space to have individual and idiosyncratic voices rather than trying to please the masses? I would also question the suggestion that as bloggers we should necessarily aspire to be "promoted" to print as a superior format for publishing. Having said that, theblogpaper offers a diverse and intriguing range of content, and there's no doubt in my mind that any project that gives bloggers a higher profile has got to be a good thing. I also have to say that I love the idea that London’s commuters might, just once a month or so, go home reading something a little more unusual, distinctive and controversial than the same old Metro/Evening Standard fodder. I'm not sure yet whether I'll be submitting any more content, but I'll certainly be watching this space.

Interestingly, I’ve also been hearing some intriguing whispers of plans for an a blog aggregator project in Manchester. Go here to find out more...

Check My Shelf is a fun idea: a brand-new blog devoted solely to bookshelves. Intriguing for all those who like me, believe that there's nothing that says more about a person than their book collection. Submit pictures of your shelves or have a peep at other people's here.

[All images via Check My Shelf]

I’m pleased to report that I survived reading at the Manchester Blog Awards on Wednesday more or less intact. In fact, I had a great evening: I managed not to fall on my face getting either on or off the stage, and cleverly avoided being in any of the photographs of the event. Hooray!

Once the reading was over, I enjoyed catching up with Manchester pals, listening to Jenn’s tantalising reading from her new novel Cold Light, and generally making the most of the evening’s celebrations, though unfortunately I had to disappear just after the winners were announced to catch the train back to Lancaster. I’m afraid I didn’t win a prize this year – the Best Arts and Culture Blog Award went to Ella Wrendorfs of the excellent runpaintrunrun.

The other winners were the mysterious Lost in Manchester, for Best City and Neighbourhood Blog; Words and Fixtures, for Best New Blog and of course, the wonderful My Shitty Twenties, which was the deserving winner of not one but two awards – Best Writing on a Blog and Best Personal Blog. The full list of winners, including the judges' comments and the runners up, can be found here.

Creative Tourist, who sponsored the Best Arts and Culture Blog category this year, also announced at the awards event that they would be launching their list of Top 25 UK Arts and Culture Blogs later in the week - and yesterday I had a lovely surprise in the shape of this.

To select their list, Creative Tourist used a number of different measures to assess the popularity of a blog, including Technorati inlinks, Bloglines citations, Google readers numbers and Alexa data. The final 25 includes some fantastic blogs like We Make Money Not Art, Amelia’s Magazine, the Frieze blog, Jonathan Jones at the Guardian, Art in Liverpool, The Culture Vulture, and the FACT blog. It also includes (at number 16)… Follow the Yellow Brick Road!

I even have a jaunty yellow badge to prove it - check out that sidebar action.

I’m half asleep this morning, owing to a whistle-stop journey up to Liverpool and back yesterday, followed by a book launch in the evening, and then a very disturbed night’s sleep resulting from a leaking ceiling. (What is it about me and leaking ceilings anyway? Is it something to do with my Lancashire roots – perhaps my special 'superhero' power is the ability to conjour water from the skies even when indoors?)

However, I just wanted to write a quick lunch-break post to say that Follow the Yellow Brick Road has been shortlisted for the most excellent Manchester Blog Awards once again this year – this time in the Best Arts and Culture category! Thank you very much Manchester Blog Awards!

I’ve been really enjoying making my way through this year’s shortlist, which includes some familiar delights like My Shitty 20s, Cynical Ben, Big City Little Girl, Manchester is Ace and Lady Levenshulme, as well as some fantastic new (to me) discoveries including Manchester Zedders, Justtesting, Lost in Manchester, Forgetting the Time, Words and Fixtures, I Thought I Told You to Wait in the Car and ... well all of them really. And I’ve especially enjoyed reading my fellow nominees for Best Arts and Culture blog, which are all excellent.

Here’s the full short-list: definitely well worth checking out!

• The Manchester Zedders
• Levenshulme Daily Photo
• Manchester is Ace
• Lost in Manchester
• Rainy City Tales

• Justtesting
• Lady Levenshulme
• Cynical Ben
• Forgetting the Time
• My Shitty Twenties

• Bookwitch
• Follow the Yellow Brick Road
• The Manchester Hermit
• Run Paint Run Run
• The Shrieking Violet

• Santiago’s Dead Wasp
• My Shitty Twenties
• Dave Hartley’s Weblog
• I thought I told you to wait in the car
• Big city, little girl

• Wondrous Reads
• Songs from under the floorboards
• Words & Fixtures
• Tales of a Sleepless Toddler
• My Manchester

The winners will be announced at the Manchester Blog Awards event at Band on the Wall on Wednesday, October 21. I'm going to be reading at the event, which is quite exciting! Find out more and book tickets here.

… and whilst we're on the subject of awards, I was also rather flattered to discover recently that I’d been bestowed the Plashing Vole’s very own special honour (what else but) The Order of the Vole!

Vole described FTYBR as “a stunningly literate and highbrow piece of work which conveys the excitement and variety of the arts world with delicacy and not a hint of the preciousness with so often permeates such affairs.”

Gosh. I am bridling as we speak. Shame there’s no one to show off at: I’m all alone in the office today but for a prawn and rocket ciabatta. Anyway, I reckon that’s not bad for someone who is currently doing a very convincing impression of a dormouse. Thanks very much Vole!

Right, self-congratulation lunch break over. Time to get back to the coalface…

I’m back in London again, on a soft and greyish day. It’s really starting to feel like autumn here: walking through Bunhill Fields last week through the first falling leaves, wearing a jacket and boots for the first time, was a picture-perfect autumn moment.

It’s been a very, very hectic couple of weeks. I’ve spent a lot of time on trains, going here, there and everywhere in my work capacity. I’ve been to the Edinburgh Book Festival, as well as various other events and meetings, and have also been organising an exhibition of picture book illustrations and an accompanying event as part of the launch festival for the new Free Word Centre. And this weekend I was in Coventry for a conference of librarians – what a truly glamorous life I lead!

In any spare moments (few and far between) I’ve been trying to fit in my university studies, spending time in the library, and working, very slowly, on my dissertation. Even though getting it done is posing me with something of a challenge at the moment, I'm nonetheless enjoying it. I'm also glad it gives me the perfect excuse to head north on a regular basis, as I’m still studying at Manchester University.

Unfortunately, all this leaves little time for blogging or indeed writing of any kind: I haven’t even managed to write in my faithful diary for months. Interestingly, I’ve noticed this blog is increasingly drifting towards being more of an ‘arts’ type blog than the personal blog it once was. I’m not quite sure why that is, except maybe it's simply easier to write about impersonal things - books, exhibitions - when you are super busy, because there just isn't much time or brainpower left to have many interesting 'personal' thoughts.


Needless to say, I’m looking forward to getting the dissertation finished and then I can (at least occasionally) have a life, and a perhaps even a brain, once again.

However, in the meantime there are, nevertheless, some good writing things happening. The most exciting is that I’m going to have some work published in the latest anthology from Litfest’s excellent publishing imprint, Flax. Mostly Truthful is Flax’s first nonfiction prose anthology, and also features work by Kate Feld, Adrian Slatcher and Jane Routh. There will also be a launch event as part of the Litfest programme in October at which we’ll all be (eek) appearing and (even more eek) reading from our work. You can check out the event and maybe even book a ticket to see it, right here.

P.S. follow the yellow brick road also pops up on Kate's Cultureometer over at the excellent Creative Tourist this month. Check it out here.

P.P.S. Look who's joined me down here in London Town - yep, it's my most glamorous blogging compatriot, the fabulous Ms Coco Laverne!


[Image via lavendardays on we heart it]

Creative Tourist, launched today by the Manchester Museums Consortium is a brand new online magazine about art and culture in Manchester.

Issue 1 features Jeremy Deller, Ansuman Biswas (aka the Manchester Hermit), Marina Abramovic in conversation with Maria Balshaw, Director of the Whitworth Art Gallery, Andrew Shanahan’s guide to videogames and Dea Birkett on children in galleries, as well as much more.

And as if all this wasn’t enough, Kate Feld (of Manchizzle fame) will be working alongside editor Susie Stubbs to bring in content from Manchester’s lively blogging community, commissioning guest posts from bloggers who write about art and culture… and guess who you’ll find in the very first issue?

That’s right, it’s me! Check out my post about Jeremy Deller’s Procession here. I was delighted to be the very first blogger commissioned to contribute to Creative Tourist, and I was even more delighted to be asked to write about such a fantastic event. If you read the piece, I’d love to know what you think - and whether or not I’ve managed to capture the unique atmosphere of this very special Manchester experience!

PS You can also keep up with Creative Tourist via the magic of twitter. Looking forward to reading more soon!

[Photo courtesy of the very talented Duncan Hay]

It’s been rather quiet here recently, but that’s because I’ve been busy!

Since I last posted, there have been lots of changes: I’ve just moved down London, and this week started an exciting new job...

I’m still getting used to being here in London, especially during the current tropical-style heatwave, but I’m looking forward to getting to know more of the arts scene, and of course, I’ll be writing about my discoveries here.

However, I won’t be leaving Manchester behind me altogether. I’m still studying at Manchester University, and I'm expecting to spend lots of time up in the rainy city, especially given all the exciting things coming up in the next few months (and after all, I’ll need my regular chips and gravy fix): in fact I’ll be back there this very weekend to check out Jeremy Deller’s Procession as well as the launch of Trade City.

You may also have noticed that the blog has a new look, which I thought would be a good way to celebrate my new location! The sharp-eyed amongst you may also have noticed it’s not quite finished yet, but I’m getting there... so watch this space!

In the meantime: any London experts out there with suggestions of where to go and what to see? Exciting art and cultural happenings you know of? Survival tips for the big city? I'd love to hear them all...

On Sunday, Follow the Yellow Brick Road celebrated its first birthday! It all started way back here, but since then, I've had a great year of blog adventures.

I've looked at a lot of art; acquired my very own ruby slippers; written stuff here and here and here; taken some extremely artless photographs; won an award; explored london; experimented with handmade publications; pondered the meaning of blogging; survived a winter of illness and leaking ceilings thanks to favourite things, inspirations, fluffy bunnies and loveliness; investigated tumblr and twitter; written this; celebrated my 26th birthday with friends and glittery cakes; meandered along scottish beaches and through damp french fields; started a writing group; read a lot of books (especially children’s books); and even made a list of fun things to do next. Who knows what adventures the next year will bring?

(Image via here)

I have not upheld my pledge to write here more in May. It’s already the 23rd (how did that happen, exactly?) and I have but two measly posts.

I've been wondering why it is that I don't seem to be writing this blog quite as much as I once was. Perhaps it's partly because, in the last couple of months, I've got back into writing a diary much more regularly. I have long been an avid writer of diaries: I started writing when I was twelve, and have continued ever since. But I do have 'on' and 'off' phases with it - and at the moment I'm definitely in an 'on' phase. I've got back into the habit of writing every day, and perhaps that has absorbed some of my need to write here.

But that in itself is interesting. I have always felt that a private, paper diary and a blog, however personal, were inherently different, separate spaces - one very much for yourself alone, and the other, whether you acknowledge it or not, by its very nature designed for an audience, for a very public readership. But maybe they aren't really so very different: perhaps secretly our 'public' blogs are for ourselves before they are for anyone else, after all...

I'd be interested to know what others think. Do you keep a diary, or write a blog, or both? Which do you prefer and why? What do you think the real differences are between them as formats - and what is it that motivates you to keep going?


Meanwhile here's a few other things:

Emily started a very interesting discussion about blogging and anonymity, writing and autobiography on her blog which Jenn and Max joined in here and here and here.

Ben unmasked himself as the author behind not only the Although I am not as delicious as I once was... blog by the mysterious 'Rosetta Hampshire,' but of a whole Patchwork Labyrinth of slowly-unravelling blog-based metafiction! I am looking forward to reading more...

Booooooom! and Design for Mankind’s Free Encouragement project (which I blogged about back here) has now launched its much-anticipated second stage. Take a look at their beautiful Free Encouragement postcards here.

I have another book review at Bookmunch – this time for Anne Michael’s second novel, The Winter Vault. You can read it here.

Manchester Writing is a new and most useful blog bringing together news and reviews of writing and readings around Manchester. Check it out here.

Main things I am doing at the moment: eating, sleeping, reading obscure 1920s prose poems for my dissertation, playing the piano (item number seven on this list), rock pool dabbling, baking cakes, watching the kittiwakes, contemplating whether or not to buy myself a bicycle with a basket, admiring bluebells and paddling in the sea.

[Pictures are via We Heart It here and here]

Throughout March, writer Fiona Robyn has been travelling from blog to blog to celebrate the publication of her first novel, The Letters, in her very own blog tour.

The Letters is the story of Violet Ackerman, who has "drifted through a career, four children and a divorce without ever knowing who she is or what she wants. After moving to the coast, she starts receiving a series of mysterious letters sent from a mother and baby home in 1959, written by a pregnant twenty-year-old Elizabeth to her best friend. Who is sending Violet these letters, and why?"

It also features a cat called Blue, an unexpected twist in the tale, and (according to Aliya at Veggie Box at least) an impressive number of references to vegetables. What's more it has already won praise from everyone from Scott Pack at Me and My Big Mouth who described it as 'an accomplished and promising début novel' to Vulpes Libres who admired Fiona's 'wonderfully descriptive writing' to Caroline Smailes who described how she 'devoured [The Letters] within a couple of days'.

Fiona has already visited 16 other blogs as part of the tour (you can read the full list here, including where she is going next). As it's now Day 22 I reckon she's probably getting a little weary, so I suggested she put her feet up and then asked her a few questions:

Firstly... it's Day 22 of your blog tour, and you've already visited 16 other blogs. Are you getting at all tired of answering questions about yourself and The Letters yet?

You'd think I would be, but nobody is asking the same questions! It's really interesting how different people have approached the book in different ways, and are interested in different things...

Do you have a favourite question you've been asked on the tour so far?

'Tell us what you grow in your veggie patch' by Aliya at the Veggie Box and Lane asked me lots of good questions about cats. Caroline also asked me some good questions, one involving Mr. Men. You can see that I like to take things very seriously.....

You've already been asked a lot of questions about The Letters: the idea for the novel, the characters, and how it came to be written. To make a change I thought I'd ask you a few questions about the three blogs you write as well as your novels: a small stone; a handful of stones and your personal blog, planting words. How do your blogs fit in as part of your overall writing practice?

I try not to let them interfere with my novel-writing - if I'm writing, then I'll always do that before I do anything else (including checking Facebook). a small stone usually only takes a few minutes a day, and a handful of stones maybe takes half an hour a couple of times a week. I only write Planting Words when I feel the urge, and again this can take a few minutes or up to half an hour. I do sometimes wonder if three is a bit excessive, but it's been ok so far!

What first got you started writing blogs?

I started writing a blog called Creating Living when I was working as a coach, as a way of promoting my services. It was a little bit like Planting Words, and resulted in my book A Year of Questions: How to slow down and fall in love with life. a small stone came next.

What gave you the idea for your blog project a small stone?

The phrase literally arose in my mind one day when I was driving back from the sea. I was thinking about starting another blog for my poetry at the time, but I didn't even know what it meant, and it felt a bit boring as a blog title. It was persistant, and then I happened upon the idea of picking a small stone up and carrying it home from a long walk - something little that you could save from every day.

Which other blogs do you read regularly?

I've always been a big fan of whisky river and have recently found lassie and timmy, both of which have a strong zen flavour. Sarah is always finding good stuff.

I recently wrote a post about how much writers enjoy the actual process of writing, which provoked a bit of discussion. Is the process of writing itself something you find pleasurable?

I find parts of it pleasurable - and parts of it horrid. It's hard to sit down and get started, especially with first drafts. I'm sometimes struck by terrible doubts. But I love reading back a sentence and thinking 'ah, that's a good sentence', or finding something new out about my character. Intensely satisfying. Really, nobody is holding a gun to my head - I'm a writer because it's supremely important to me - and things that are important aren't necessarily fun all the time.

What inspires you? Where do you go to find inspiration when you need it?

Being outside in my garden is good for me - whatever the weather - but I do prefer sunshine! I've been lucky enough to wait for inspiration to find me so far, rather than going out and looking.

Tell us a little bit about what you've got coming up next...

The Blue Handbag is out in paperback in August, and then Thaw in February next year, both with Snowbooks. I'm currently working on a novel about a young boy that goes to stay with his aunt in Amsterdam - I'm off for a research trip this summer. What a life, eh?

And finally (just because I had to ask) do you own any red shoes?

I'm afraid I'm not much of a shoe person - black trainers is pretty much it... I do think they look nice on other people though - I'm sure yours are lovely!

Perhaps you're just more of a handbag person, since your next book is called The Blue Handbag? Anyway, thanks very much, Fiona (for visiting and for complimenting me on my shoes!) and enjoy the rest of the tour!

The last three posts make up the beginning of a piece of writing I've been toying with for quite a long time. It's actually the start of a novel I wrote about four or five years ago. Every now and again, I get the whole thing out again, have a look and wonder whether I ought to have a go at rewriting it, or whether I should simply shelve it and move on to something new. I'm still not sure about that, but I thought it would be good to post it here in the interests of take a step outside the comfort zone.

In the past, I know I've been fairly useless at getting outside my comfort zone - in terms of writing, at least. I'm much more inclined to settle down in it, put my feet up, maybe make a nice cup of tea. I'm not very good at putting my work "out there": in spite of good intentions I've even chickened out about posting any fiction here up until now. Maybe it's partly because I've never studied creative writing, or even attended a class, so I haven't entirely got my head around the idea of standing up and acknowledging ownership of my work. Maybe it's also because I've spent so long studying literature which can be a bit of a dangerous thing to do if you want to write yourself.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels like this a lot of the time: even the best of us get The Fear when it comes to putting our work out there in the world. Evidently even Derrida suffered from anxieties about his writing: "moments of fear" when he came over all neurotic in the middle of the night and was tempted to burn all his papers.



Having said that though, I do think it's important to get used to the idea of leaving the comfort zone. Writing this blog has been a good step in the right direction: it's helped me to get back into the habit of writing regularly, but more importantly, to get used to sharing what I write with others and to cope with the scary stuff (see here and here). It's also taught me that not everything I write has to be carefully worked out and immaculately put together. In fact, I've found that sometimes the best things come out of just having a go and not worrying too much. It also makes it a lot more fun, which has to be the point in the end really, doesn't it?

Anyway posting this has been a good start. Now I just have to keep going and get used to the idea of stepping outside my comfort zone. Or as Derrida himself puts it, I just need to "do what must be done."

(The excellent picture above is by Keri Smith from her blog wish jar)

It has been a very busy week or two. It's been one of those times when I suspect I might be a bit mad even attempting to have a full-time job at the same time as studying for an MA. On the other hand, though, it's also been a really varied and interesting couple of weeks, so I can't really complain too much.

Anyway, I will shortly be heading down to That London for a few days, but first, here are a few things I wanted to post - a quick round-up of news:

Apartment is closing its doors... The unique exhibition space in a council tower block flat, co-curated by Hilary Jack and Paul Harfleet will close its programme with a show by Giorgio Sadotti entitled ‘PAUL, PAUL IS THE ART’. The show runs until 2nd April and viewing is by appointment - check it out while you have the chance!

Throughout March, look out for the project If you read this, I’ll give it to you by artist Katya Sander throughout the public spaces of Manchester and Salford. Thousands of pin-badges bearing the statement “If you read this, I’ll give it to you (but then you must wear it too)” are moving through the cities, travelling from person to person. Badges will be available at sites within the city, and can be taken from anyone you see wearing them. The project is part of Whose Cosmopolitanism? a series of public events to launch the Research Institute for Cosmopolitan Cultures (RICC) at the University of Manchester which has also included events with visiting speakers such as David Harvey and Jacqueline Rose.

The Other Xeno-epistemic is an interesting event coming up at A Foundation on Friday 20 March. The event is part of TAXED, A Foundation’s series of events designed by locally-based artists which explore the power of imitation, and “art’s capacity to import other people’s ideas, to shamelessly replicate successful existing models, to beggar belief with its flagrant piracy!” This event has been literally “taxed” from a workshop by Sarat Maharaj at Test Site, Rooseum, Malmö in 2002, and involves a “sideways” reading of a chapter from Deleuze & Guttari’s A Thousand Plateaus. Participants are each assigned a footnote to research in advance, and will come together to discuss their findings and ideas, resulting in what Maharaj describes as “the kind of crazy-paving reading that makes [artists] ‘dodgy’ from the ‘doctoral’ point of view”. You can read more here, including details of how you can participate and view the results!

Nominations for this year’s Best of Manchester Awards are now open. There are categories for art, music and fashion (though sadly not for writing) so get nominating all your talented friends and neighbours!

And coming soon... Artyarn will be artists in residence at Contact throughout April and May as part of the AIR programme. As well as workshops and yarn bombing, they plan to produce a new piece of work, the Knitting Orchestra - an experimental sound piece produced directly from the act of knitting.

Take a look at the new Preston Writing Network which aims to "put Preston's diverse and vibrant literary culture on the map," promoting and developing new writing in Preston through on-line activity and a programme of workshops, live literature and more. The network is the writing strand of They Eat Culture, a new arts development company run from the Continental Arts Space in Broadgate, and there's more information about how to get involved or submit work to the blog here.

Please find ZigZag! is a storytelling project launched by Litfest and writer David Gaffney. If you should happen to be in Lancaster, look out for a series of mysterious lost cat posters appearing around the city centre. These stories form the first part of a three-part story of unrequited love set in and around the Storey Institute. You can read more online by checking out both characters blogs - Fern and Charlie - though really, half the fun of this story is how it unravels in real time in the public spaces of Lancaster in a distinctly non-digital format.

Do check out Bewilderbliss, a new literary magazine dedicated to “new words from new writers” which showcases the poetry and prose of Manchester University and MMU postgraduate creative writing students. You can buy the brand new first issue (the theme is ‘The Guilty') from the Cornerhouse foyer bookshop where I hear you can also get hold of Belle Vue, another new zine I’m hearing good things about from reliable sources (see here and here). I'm loving all this DIY publishing action going on at the moment!

Kate from The Manchizzle is organising a get-together for Manchester Bloggers at Centro on Tuesday (10 March). I plan to be there, and will be wearing my name-tag with pride!

On a similar blog-related note... I am astonished by the wealth of great new Manchester blogs I keep coming across at the moment - it feels like I discover one practically every day. If you want a good read, may I point you in the direction of Equine Obesity, Mithering Times and Blunt Fringe just for starters? And whatever you do, don't miss Emily Powell’s My Shitty Twenties which is absolutely brilliant.

...I was reading somewhere recently that you should never write a blog post longer than a paragraph or two because people get bored and don't bother reading it. That's a rule I absolutely fail to observe on this blog, and I have certainly broken it very conclusively today. If you're still with me, well done you. And you'll probably be relieved to hear that I've now finished.

Every now and again, this blog has a bashful moment. Something happens out of the blue that suddenly makes it go shy and self-conscious and quiet. Usually it happens when I meet up with (or bump into) someone I haven’t seen for a while, and they say “ooh, I was reading your blog the other day, and...” or perhaps “my brother was reading your blog, and he said...” Or it could be that I’m at work, and I go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and one of my colleagues wanders in, and says “hey, I was just looking at your blog and...” or someone starts referring to “Katherine’s blog” in a meeting and I turn the approximate colour of a very ripe tomato.

The common factor in all of these situations is that suddenly (painfully) I am forced to confront the truth that when I write things here, they don’t just disappear into a lovely invisible void. They are actually out there, public, available for anyone and everyone to read. I think the weird thing about anything you do online is that in spite of the web being possibly one of the most public spheres that has ever existed, it has a way of tricking you into thinking that what you’re doing is completely private - or at least, relatively intimate. Sometimes I feel that writing here is not so different to writing in a personal diary - I’m just happily chuntering away to myself, not really expecting anyone to be listening. Or other times, I feel that I’m talking directly to just one or two imagined “kindred spirits” (see L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables) who are always sympathetic and never critical, and to whom words like “self-indulgent” or “trite” are utterly unknown. At the very most, I feel I am writing to a very small audience of people I have never met, and am never likely to meet, who don’t me and who in any case probably live in, like, a whole other country.

Actually, of course, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Writing a blog is nothing like whispering into a sympathetic ear: in fact, it often feels more akin to standing up in front of a room full of people, including everyone you’ve ever met, and repeatedly shrieking “look at me!” Which if you do know me, or if you’ve ever read about my thoughts on stuff like this, you’ll be aware is possibly the Last Thing On Earth I Would Ever Do.

It’s easy to forget that though, when you’re sitting cozily in your room, by yourself, in your pyjamas, just happily wittering away, much like I am doing right now. After all, there’s rarely an instant audience reaction - no applause, no chorus of boos. And so you forget that there’s a real audience out there, which inevitably consists of both the loyal front-row seaters, who turn up to every show without fail, and those sitting at the back, rustling their programmes a bit impatiently and sighing and looking at their watches and wondering when it will be time for the interval so they can go and get an ice-cream or have a cigarette. (Or maybe even people like the man I remember seeing once when I was about 15 and was at the theatre, watching a double-bill of Tom Stoppard plays, who nodded off as soon as the lights went down and slept solidly, complete with quite audible, entirely unembarrassed snoring, through the whole show.)

Maybe that’s one advantage of blogging though. It does force you to be a bit braver about getting up there and saying something - anything - and I am basing this on the assumption that saying something is always better than saying nothing at all. But every now and again, when you remember where you are, you can’t help getting a little stage fright, especially when the spotlight is not exactly your natural habitat. So don’t be surprised if every now and again I have a ‘bashful blogging’ moment. If I go quiet for a few days - even a week or two- you can guarantee I’ll soon forget where I am and be back to my usual meandering self.

[exeunt stage right]

1. the unicorn diaries 2. the cherry blossom girl 3. treats & treasures
4. the tea drinking english rose 5. blaze danielle 6. wish wish wish
7. wild keikei 8. rose posie rosie 9. (inside) a black apple
10. monmartre's sketchbook 11. scout holiday 12. i'm not antisocial, just shortsighted

Today, for a final blast of 'December loveliness', I thought I would share these blogs - all relatively recent discoveries, which I like as much for their lovely images and overall aesthetic as for their written style.

I especially like the fact that all of these blogs make the most of the potential offered by online platforms without feeling scarily uber-digital or hi-tech: in fact, if anything, blogs like the tea drinking english rose, or the unicorn diaries more closely resemble an old-fashioned handwritten journal that you could imagine you might tie up with a ribbon or lock with a key.

Whether or not the particular aesthetic appeals to you, what really stands out about all these blogs is how defined their individual styles are - visuals, content and prose style all work together to create a particular identity. It’s perhaps for this reason that these blogs feel so personal - reading them is like taking a little peep through the keyhole into the space of the bloggers’ imaginations.

It's interesting to observe how blogs such as i’m not antisocial just shortsighted (a very recent find, which I discovered via jo’s blog) or the cherry blossom girl develop, becoming a broad creative space to experiment with a distinctive personal style, bringing together together many different interests and sources of inspiration - from fashion to design to writing to photography to fine art.

Blogs like these seem to be first and foremost spaces to play with and share ideas, becoming (quite literally in the case of blogs like treats & treasures) ongoing scrapbooks or collages which are always growing and developing. These blogs are little treasure-troves of inspiration.

I was quite interested to read this article by Jon Henley in the Guardian the other day about Slow Blogging. Slow Bloggers, apparently, are those who "take the time to think, study and reflect before they post; who do not feel the need to slap the first thing that comes out of their head straight onto the web." The Slow Blogging movement has also recently attracted the attention of the NY Times where the practice is compared to that of meditation, whilst fast, news-driven blogging is "the equivalent of fast-food restaurants". In some ways though, I can't help thinking that Slow Blogging seems almost like anti-blogging: it is described as “a rejection of immediacy … an affirmation that not all things worth reading are written quickly”, an act of “speaking like it matters, like the pixels that give your words form are precious and rare”.

I don't think I would be very good at being a Slow Blogger. I think I am probably a Fast and Sloppy Blogger, but I can't help thinking that maybe that's half the fun.

Sometimes, though, I do think it is good to be slow. Right now, I am moving very slowly. I am being a cat cushion. I am knitting, one row at a time. I am having a cup of tea, and then maybe a bit later, another one. I am watching a blackbird eating orange berries off a bush in the garden, and noticing the clouds move slowly across the sky. I am meandering, dawdling.

I like this example of really, really slow blogging.

I feel like a sloth.

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I have a little something up on a handful of stones today. You can find it here.