HeyJaredAngels in the Architecture
Author, writing mentor, ocean swimmer. I looked up and there were angels in the architecture. There always are ('fire plus algebra,' Borges said). I'll share poems, short stories, chapters from new books and anything else that's got me enchanted.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 8
- Latest publication
- Sep 23, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 13, 2026
Latest issues
The Bright Hawks of our Lives (opens the original)
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I remember my father switching the lights on in the swimming pool on hot summer nights and the way the pool lit up like a magical underwater theatre. How it felt like holiday was there in our garden and all you had to do was wait for night and reverse the order of things by slipping out of your nightie and into your bathing suit and how, even in summer the water brrr-ed your skin and you were glad for a cosy bed, your hair damp, your body smelling of chlorine and every room was filled with goose
Be the homeward dove (opens the original)
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Back in the mid 1990’s, I was a young law lecturer, newly returned to South Africa after a year at Yale doing a Master’s in Law degree. I plunged into the thrilling revolution that was taking place in my homeland – apartheid was crumbling, a new human rights constitution was being written and after decades of censorship, the market was being flooded with pornography.You’d think no-one had ever seen a vulva before.I am far from erotophobic; and can appreciate the buzz of voyeuristic sexual titill
The open book and the origami crane (opens the original)
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I have been thinking about condensation, after I received the Lithuanian translation of my grandfather’s memoir back from the book designer. It is 22 pages shorter than the English edition. I wondered if this was a mistake. But no, it turns out that Lithuanian is much more concise than English. English speakers need 22 more pages to say exactly the same thing Lithuanians can.<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Bd0U!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_pro
Broken prayer (opens the original)
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This is a post about writing and breaking. And how they are related.Why do we emphasize, in writing, the value of showing, not telling?It has to do with the angle, the slant of the narrative and what it disallows.Telling is direct. ‘I was afraid and couldn’t wait to leave. So I packed my bags and I shut the door behind me, glad to be out of that toxic place.’Like all explicit information, it is filled with assumptions. It names emotion overtly and supposes a shared sense of what fear is. It is b
Asking for a friend (opens the original)
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Is there a 12 step program when love slips a discto bone on bone?Maybe a soft tissue glue?How many sleeps til the wantto sip from the cup of a new day returns?Where does the moon hide for half her life?Or is it secret like a women’s shelter?The joy of a wagging tail -Is that only for dogs?If she wishes it for anotherdoes it go to the top of the pile?Where did she go? The mother she misses.Is the missing forever? If she never asks for another blessingcan she keep the ones she has?The whales … can
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