3 is the magic number…

Another late post! Letting it all slip a bit as I get my head as far into writing as possible (not always easy…) I’ve now finished all three analysis chapters (wtf, I know, right?) in 3 months and am bashing away at my redraft literature review, then I’ll do my methodology, then intro / conclusion, then edit the whole thing, submit to supervisors to read, then edit one last time before submitting in November…!! So bloody close now. Can’t wait to see what’s around the bend as well! So here are some musings from last month.

 

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Chapter 2 – People

I am actually onto my third analysis chapter now, but here is an old post about the second analysis chapter…oh how time flies!

Hello!

The sun is positively BEATING down here in Glasgow, ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ is blasting from the building site, and memories of loch swimming and 6Music Festival gigs are only recently fogging in my mind’s eye from the weekend…

It’s been a while since I’ve written and my brain is a little fuzzy today (turns out your natural alarm clock isn’t always the best thing to rely on…) so rather than wake up and ‘carry on writing my PhD’ I thought I’d have a bit  of free-writing-esque on this here blog, let you know where I’m at, that sort of thing.

Welcome, sunshine

On a sunny day, walking up through the city, to a viewing point, I notice gentle inscriptions into the stones beneath my feet.

The word ‘welcome’ is written in many different languages, and next to these I notice inscriptions of poems, which I assume have been written by people who live locally as part of a community project, but I’m not sure.

Standing there in the sunshine, with some height and distance from the city, the view reaching above high rises to the long majestic row of mountains in the distance, populated by snow, windmills and walkers I don’t doubt on a day like today, you get the pleasing, and for me necessary, sense of perspective that so much more lies beyond this network of towers and bridges and tenements. I am reminded of the importance of senses in understanding and feeling our way through, round, within the places we live. That familiar smell of marmite on toast sweeps in from the east as I look out, imagining walking up those majestic mountains that lie beyond the city.

 

“The soft breeze

The lovely flowers

The sound of buses

The lovely sun shining on me

A great view of the dear green place

Rumbi Gore”