Journal
A welcoming and warmly lit workshop for that most brilliantly baffling of machines: the human dynamic. Dispatches from the front lines of psychology, and from journeys along the liminal edge.
Arrochar Alps
The road-name is a command, an inheritance: Rest And Be Thankful. But in the blue pre-dawn of a summer morning, with the air still holding the memory of night’s chill, there is no thought of rest. The…
ReadAssynt
The old ways are the best ways, my father says, and he should know. His life was spent in the dark, in the deep places of the earth, following coal seams that ran like black veins through the rock. Now…
ReadBealach Na Ba
To go up the Bealach na Bà in the late gloaming of midsummer is to feel the land tilt on its axis. The road, a tarmac ribbon on an ancient drove-way, leaves the sea-level world behind. In the low, slanting…
ReadBaudelaire, Baudot, Baudrillard
‘Welcome to the HIVE!’ my client excitedly announced. In this case, the Hive wasn't actually a beehive and we weren’t wearing special beekeeper’s suits or indulging in any form of apiary. HIVE was actually an…
ReadBen Chonzie
The track is a pale thread drawn across the hill's flank, a line of crushed stone and grit that sings under the tyres. To climb Ben Chonzie by bike is to feel the mountain in the legs, in the lungs. It is a…
ReadBen Vorlich
The air, on this Scottish spring afternoon, is honeyed with the scent of gorse and damp earth. From the shore of Loch Earn, Ben Vorlich’s shoulder is a great, green heave against the sky, a line drawn by a…
ReadUse the Best and Use the Rest
As the CTO of a deep technology organisation specialising in human computer interaction I am often asked about what methods we use for software development. And these questions, well often not really questions…
ReadBow Fiddle Rock
The path to the sea is a thread of darkness before the dawn, and the tripod’s weight is a familiar ache across the shoulder. Below, in the half-light, Bow Fiddle Rock crouches, less a landform than a leviathan…
ReadCairnpapple Hill
The wind is the first thing you learn on Cairnpapple, and the last thing you forget. It is a soughing, shaping wind that comes barrelling over the Bathgate Hills, a west wind that has crossed a continent to…
ReadCairns O'camster
To walk the Flow Country of Caithness as the light fails is to feel the land’s deep grammar. The ground underfoot is a lexicon of sphagnum and peat, written over millennia. You follow the old paths, the…
ReadCastle Campbell
To walk Dollar Glen is to walk a cleft, a deep scour in the Ochils carved by the meeting of two waters: the Burn of Care and the Burn of Sorrow. The path clings to the gorge-wall, slick with damp, ferns…
ReadCa Whims
To walk the Ca Whims is to walk a map of air, a high, wind-scoured tableland whose name whispers of caprice. This is not ground that declares itself, but ground that holds itself - a vast, breathing space…
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