Review

There are two things I consciously don't do, one is go to funerals unless I know that a real effort has been made to capture the essence of the person, and the other is writing reviews. My reasons for not writing reviews are complex -

1)I feel they are a bit of an art form.

2)While I trust my own ear, eye, heart and mind I'm never sure that I'm good at getting their honest reaction down on the page with the required balance and objectivity.

3)I tend to think, "what gives me the right to criticise"

and

4) I'm a kind of artless person, be my friend and I'll defend you to the death, but I come from a long line of folk who didn't do praise,and were bloody good at nit picking and silently crushing the spirit, so don't ask me what I think because I'll just revert to type. (I love Sharon Old's poem Fish Oil, which also touches on this idea.)

So may I highly recommend K Cadwallender's review of Irene Brown's Glass Slippers which is a really good reflection of the night and of Irene's individual voice and style. (for the uninitiated click on the link to go to the review)

The photo is of an Angelica pachycarpa (native of Spain, naturalised in NZ) leaf breaking. I've been very slow to be won over to Spring this year, but I'm getting there now.