The salon . . .

I have a very awkward relationship with this blog - it's partly a journal, where I store notes for if I ever get around to expanding on them; it's partly, or was, a portfolio of what I can write, but there are other sites for that now; it's partly a place where I can write letters to friends without needing postage; it's partly a response to the few people who hate me (there would probably be more if I got out more); occasionally it's a big fuck you to things I don't approve of . . .

It isn't, and has never been, a means to invite readers, or fans, or whatever we call them these days . . .
I write. I edit. I observe. I help journalists in the country I am in.

I freely admit I could be completely wrong about every observation I make. That is why I don't get paid to editorialize, and the blog is just current feelings.

So, if you're here, welcome to my salon - please be polite in your criticism

I've had responses to things I have written that I found hard to believe, and all I wanted to do was stand in front of those writers and ask if they would say that to someone they knew by name, or even saw in person

but, because you're not being "THAT" person, welcome