The other night, Dani and I visited Greensmiths on Lower Marsh, where the resident Master Butcher from the Ginger Pig, Martin Kavanagh, wa...

I've mentioned briefly before my passion for French feuilleton fiction of the early twentieth century, which was aroused principally ...

I spend more time in Angel these days. In the ticket hall of the Tube, there's one of those whiteboards containing a daily witticism – a...

Every day, I walk to my work in Kentish Town. I have always walked to and from the office, because I have lost whatever steel-hearted stoici...

On Monday I visited Dennis Severs' House  in Spitalfields. I heartily recommend it – arrive early to beat the queues. The house's ar...

In recent years, I have become increasingly annoyed by the high regard in which 'imagination' is commonly held. The word is used a...

On Sunday, I'm starting a new website devoted to my improvisation-related activities in association with monk-like improv anagarika , ...