Mark Charan Newton

Pretty much what it says in the header.
I’m a big fan of Hopper’s paintings. They share a similar quality to a Hemingway short story in their laconic style, and the narrative between the line (or brushstroke, I guess). There’s such energy in the restraint used by each of them, a desperation for the stories to [...]

[Read more →]

This month’s National Geographic displayed a picture of a huge ziggurat in the city of Dur Untash, built in the 13th Century B.C., a a vast stepped-temple tower that rose above the landscape, dominating the foreground and horizon. I wonder what the builders of that structure would think if they knew it was there, still [...]

[Read more →]

Driving slowly through the rush hour traffic, sun leaking through thick clouds, a little humid and the kind of weather where fumes don’t seem to go anywhere. I paused to let a car pull out in front of me. The woman driving must have been seventy years old, easily, in a clean little red sports [...]

[Read more →]

Two very fine ruins, Rievaulx Abbey (the more complete ruin) and Byland Abbey (with the remains of a circular window now looking totally fantastical). Both in North Yorkshire, both victims of the Dissolution of the Monasteries, when Henry VIII was getting frisky and needed a little divorce action.

Share: [...]

[Read more →]

5am. It always amazes you just how many people are up, which is a clear sign you’re not used to early mornings. They’re not even bleary eyed. They walk with an disarming purpose.
Then the train out into the country—a layer of fog mixes with the haze of the rising sun, forcing an uncertainty across the [...]

[Read more →]

In keeping with treating this blog more like a writer’s notebook, here’s some interesting things from last weekend in Cumbria. A fantastically industrial coastline, with the odd shipwreck to explore.

Share: [...]

[Read more →]

Matlock: a strange mixture of old and new. Chrome, brass and leather-trimmed bistro bars stand alongside shabby collectible shops. Old ladies prefer the company of old ladies in tea rooms with steamed up windows, and that haven’t been decorated in years. Walkers stride through traffic with a nonchalance and purpose of street kids in Delhi [...]

[Read more →]