Dear Mother Landfill

    The sun that hides behind the snaking fumes, the woods that sleep beyond the mounds so hideous, and the very sky somewhere above; none of them know where the football is buried. Fernando – don’t tell anyone watching him, but yesterday was his 11th birthday – digs his hand into the rubbish that…

An Exhibition of Socialism

      This is a blog about remembering. A blog not about politics but about the aesthetics of politics. It is about remembering what we owe to various degrees of socialist reforms over the past few decades, and centuries. Socialism today may be a victim of its own success. It might be less relevant…

Travel Essay on Chiaroscuro Writing

  The Gran Via, the Plaza Mayor, Puerta del Sol – these are places that dwarf you, make you feel like an ant standing at the threshold of the cosmos. It’s not just their size that makes you feel miniscule; it is their splendour, the regality, the life and living they can host, coliseums of…

My Noon, My Midnight: a new novel

  My new novel, set half in my native Malta and half in distant, alluring Nicaragua, tells the story of two people seeking the elusive Perfect Happiness. Indeed, the working title of the novel was just that, but, having decided it was too kitsch as a title, I dropped it in favour of a quote…