We’re standing in a circle, a bunch of strangers holding hands in a pitch black room, at the back of Sunderland’s old community theatre, The Royalty.
Is there a spirit that wants to connect with us? Make your way to the group and find a way to communicate with us. We mean you no harm.
Continue readingThe crazy winds of the past few days have reminded me of a trip that the Prodigal Geordie and I took to New York in 2010. We were there on September 16 when tornadoes hit Brooklyn and Queens. I remember being downtown, somewhere in SoHo I think. The sky got darker and darker. For three in the afternoon, it was pretty much night for us.
Yesterday, 13 September 2018, marked the ninth anniversary of my sister’s death. It’s as stark as that. I’ve never felt the urge to post about it publicly before, but this blog is making me look more closely at the headstones in my pictures and wonder not just about the aesthetic or the location, but also about the people who have passed on and those left behind.
How can I pass comment on cemeteries and death without sharing a little bit about what it means to me?
“Oh how wonderful,” proclaimed the posh lady from the Friends of Highgate Cemetery as she ticked off the second ‘Linda’ from her list, “a brrrace of Lindas.”
I loved it. Not only did I get to visit one of the best cemeteries in the UK, there was this completely bonkers woman signing me in. As far as I know, there is no collective noun for Lindas, but if there was, this would work for me…
I was about to start this post by saying that I couldn’t remember when my obsession with graveyards began. But as soon as I started typing I think I know.
Raven in a Graveyard 