Small things

Alexia PdC

21 Jun 2025 — 1 min read

make me so joyful, even more so in this exhausting world. So many films are released in one month; I want to see them all and so I don’t get to a single screening. The cost of a taxi there and back, plus ticket plus snack is impossible anyway.

So small pockets of cultural indulgence are my norm in this Unwell Land of mine. This week’s small was a making session at a celebration of World Refugee Week. I went for the Craftspace-supported Shelanu craft table. Four generously smiling women showed me the possibilities in plastic tubs of making a personal keyring on their Fimo templates, drawing a design of our choosing. Maybe I could make a design about my hobbies, the woman next to me invited. She was drawing a beautifully intricate tiger face from a photo of a Chinese person-made-animal.

I trust my hands now and my left hand drew some scissors on the template. Tiny patterns of scissors on hot purple sprang to life. Simple. Perfect. Connecting.

There is truly nothing better than creating in community, at a shared table, with gentle chat. Long live the makers

Where are the words

When the air is wet and your hands are cold in your room Called to be in hibernation for three to four months The system denies that mammalian softness, as it tears all of us from our natural needs A candle burning on the slate hearth of my rented room

A letter from the empire to himself

I yearn to be less stubborn, and willing to see the possibilities beyond myself I am nearly 450 years old Dusty and tired in every pore, and yet Habits are hard to let go I am the largest empire of all time A quarter of the world’s land in

Hold the pose

Vogue, strike a pose. Shed your clothes. Hold for 10 minutes. Feel the slow burn. Scritch scritch, scratch. “10 minutes left” In the break I walk around the room slowly, taking in the many versions of myself. Held by the artists’ gaze, I am a powerful solid body, beautiful to

Maltese musings

A few short thoughts from the archipelago that is Malta. I had a good time, would recommend esp for spoonie rest. Malta, a place of many empires meeting melting mouthing “we were here, too” The British were last, carving out there ‘politeness’ into the limestone Mdina – Arabic for city – was

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Where are the words

A letter from the empire to himself

Hold the pose

Maltese musings