Eggplant.place

192d

SAILMAKER by Alan Spence
March/April 2026, multiple venues
Presented by The Gaiety Theatre in association with the Beacon Arts Centre

A poignant, poetic, & deeply human play that explores themes of family, grief, masculinity, & working-class life in Glasgow.

https://thegaiety.co.uk/events/sailmaker-by-alan-spence-presented-by-the-gaiety-in-association-with-beacon-arts-centre/

#Scottish #literature #drama #theatre

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1y

Curly Highland cow portrait - handmade acrylic painting.
Have a great day!

See more here:
https://karen-kaspar.pixels.com/featured/curly-highland-cow-portrait-karen-kaspar.html

#cow #highlander #cattle #farm #MastoArt #art #AYearForArt #FediArt #FediGiftShop #artist #arte #InteriorDesign #MastodonArt #ArtistsOnMastodon #TraditionalArt #kunst #contemporaryArt #creativeToots #ArtForSale #handmade #farming #animals #portrait #scottish #animal #painting #schottland

Curly highland cow portrait is a handmade acrylic painting by artist Karen Kaspar.
A shaggy Highland cow with a thick, reddish-brown coat looks directly at the viewer, its long horns extending outward. The background is a solid light blue, contrasting with the textured appearance of the cow's fur.
I painted this portrait in landscape format. This painting is also available in my shop. Here I cropped it to portrait format, so you can choose what best suits your walls.

ALT

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223d

It is late January and at last the snow.
I lie back dreaming about Glencoe
as fluent, hungry, dressed in red,
you climb up and over me…

—Andrew Greig, “The Winter Climbing”
Published in Getting Higher: The Complete Mountain Poems (Polygon, 2011)

https://birlinn.co.uk/product/getting-higher-2/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #mountains #mountaineering #climbing #winter #Glencoe

The Winter Climbing
Andrew Greig

It is late January and at last the snow.
I lie back dreaming about Glencoe
as fluent, hungry, dressed in red,
you climb up and over me. That passion
claimed the darkest, useless months
for risk and play. You rise
up on me, I rise through you ...

The shadowed face of Aonach Dubh
where Mal first took me climbing
and as we clanked exhausted, happy,
downwards through the dark, I asked
“What route was that?” “Call it
what you want – it’s new.”

You reach the top and exit out;
from way above, your cry comes down.
The rope pulls tight. What shall we call
this new thing we’re about?
These days we live in taking
care and chances. Why name it?
My heart is in my mouth as I shout Climbing ...

ALT

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263d

Angus at midwinter
or near as makes no odds –
faint shadows raxed
over fields of dour earth,

every fairmer’s fenceposts
splashed with gold.

—Kathleen Jamie, “Solstice II”
in SELECTED POEMS (Picador 2018

https://www.panmacmillan.com/authors/kathleen-jamie/selected-poems/9781509882953

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #midwinter #solstice

Solstice II
by Kathleen Jamie

Here comes the sun
summiting the headland – pow!
straight through the windows of the 10.19
– and here's us passengers,
splendid and blinking
like we're all re-born,
remade exactly, and just where we left off:
the students, the toddler, the tattoo'd lass,
the half dozen roustabouts
headed off-shore
cracking more beers
and more jokes.
Angus at midwinter
or near as makes no odds –
faint shadows raxed
over fields of dour earth,

every fairmer's fenceposts
splashed with gold.

ALT

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262d

“It was the time of year when things could change their nature. […] And already, my true love said taking my arm, we're past the shortest. Light is shaving the darkness off already, a couple of minutes a day. Have you noticed?”

—from 2008: “Do you call that a Christmas present?” – a short story by Ali Smith

https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/features/ali-smith-do-you-call-that-a-christmas-present-1203321.html

#Scottish #literature #shortstory #Christmas #AliSmith

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245d

Poetry Workshops with Rebecca Sharp
17 & 24 January, Arbroath – free, ticketed

Led by poet & playwright Rebecca Sharp, these workshops will explore the ways stories are preserved, forgotten, or reinvented – from history to legends & folklore. No experience needed.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/poetry-workshop-with-rebecca-sharp-tickets-1977268333813

#Scottish #literature #poetry #poetryworkshop #history #legend #folklore

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262d

“Of old, Edinburgh University was the scene of heroic snowballing; and one riot obtained the epic honours of military intervention.”

—Robert Louis Stevenson, PICTURESQUE NOTES: EDINBURGH (1878)

🎨 : “Snowballing Outside Edinburgh University”, by Samuel Bough (1822–1878). Watercolour on paper, 1853

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Download PICTURESQUE NOTES as a free ebook from @gutenberg_org

https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/382

#Scottish #literature #19thcentury #Victorian #RobertLouisStevenson #Edinburgh #winter

“Snowballing Outside Edinburgh University”, by Samuel Bough (1822–1878). Watercolour on paper.

A mid-nineteenth-century street scene in Edinburgh. At a street corner, on either side of the road, two groups of youths are throwing snowballs at each other. Some people watch from windows; other onlookers stand by. On one side of the street two women and a child hurry past.

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245d

An Evening of Scottish Speculative Fiction
22 Jan, Waterstones Argyle Street, Glasgow. Tickets £5.

A trio of fantastic Scottish writers of spectacular speculative fiction – Christopher Caldwell, Angie Spoto, & Lorraine Wilson – in a discussion chaired by Elaine Gallagher.

https://www.waterstones.com/events/an-evening-of-scottish-speculative-fiction/glasgow-argyle-street

#Scottish #literature #ScienceFiction #Fantasy #SFF #SpeculativeFiction #SpecFic #Glasgow

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245d

Snaw is bluffertin’ the toun,
Gurly wunds are roustin’ roun’,
Peety fowk in broken shoon
This winter nicht…

—Helen Burness Cruickshank (1886–1975), “Song of Pity for Refugees”
published in Collected Poems (Reprographia, 1971)

#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #poem #poetry #refugees #winter

Song of Pity for Refugees
by Helen Burness Cruickshank

Snaw is bluffertin’ the toun,
Gurly wunds are roustin’ roun’,
Peety fowk in broken shoon
This winter nicht.

Peety help the weary auld,
Claes nor fire to fend aff cauld,
Hoose nor ha’ them safe to hauld
This winter nicht.

Peety wham in a’ the warld
Fortune fell through hell has harled,
Hungert, hameless, broken, marled,
This winter nicht.

Peety men withooten kin,
Ne’er a freend to cry them ben,
Nane their deein’ sauls to sain
This winter nicht.

ALT

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223d

“I love winter… I love the peace of the nature reserve with its labyrinths of bare branches and its startling sunsets. I love the blitz of wee birds at the feeders in the garden. I’m not so keen on the damp grey days, I admit. So It’s no hardship to stay at my desk.”

—Val McDermid on how winter fuels her creative process – via @literaryhub

@writingcommunity

https://lithub.com/ice-and-inspiration-an-ode-to-writing-in-winter-from-val-mcdermid/

#Scottish #literature #writing #winter #creativity #crimefiction

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244d

Up in the morning’s no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,
I’m sure it’s winter fairly…

—“Up in the Morning Early”, by Robert Burns – poet of the people 🫡

https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/morning-early/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #18thCentury #RobertBurns #winter

Up in the Morning Early
by Robert Burns

Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west,
The drift is driving sairly;
Sae loud and shrill I hear the blast,
I’m sure it’s winter fairly.

CHORUS
Up in the morning’s no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,
I’m sure its winter fairly.

The birds sit chittering in the thorn,
A’ day they fare but sparely;
And lang’s the night frae e’en to morn,
I’m sure it’s winter fairly.

CHORUS
Up in the morning’s no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,
I’m sure its winter fairly.

ALT

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244d

Book launch
Ali Smith: GLYPH
29 Jan, Portobello Bookshop, Edinburgh, & online – ticketed

Ghosts don’t exist.
They don’t. End of.
Story, however.
It is haunting.
Everything tells it.

GLYPH is Ali Smith’s most soulful, playful & vital novel yet, a work of lightness that goes deep to counter the forces currently flattening the modern world. Smith will be in conversation with Jess Orr.

https://www.theportobellobookshop.com/events/ali-smith-glyph

#Scottish #literature #novel #AliSmith

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146d

the rain has stopped
but still it’s falling
under the trees

—Alan Spence
published in CLEAR LIGHT, @canongatebooks 2012

https://canongate.co.uk/books/94-clear-light/

#Scottish #literature #InternationalHaikuPoetryDay #poem #poetry #haiku #HaikuDay

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1y

Isobel Wylie Hutchison (1889–1982)—author, poet, film-maker, botanist, #arctic explorer—was born #OTD, 30 May. A 🎂 🧵

WalkHighlands shares an extract from PEAK BEYOND PEAK, describing how she tackled the Corrieyairack Pass between the #Cairngorms & Loch Ness

1/4

https://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/news/peak-beyond-peak-the-unpublished-scottish-journeys-of-isobel-wylie-hutchison/

#Scottish #literature #20thcentury #womenwriters #hillwalking #mountaineering

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181d

In order to help you overcome your fear
of what the Chinese call the Lord of Distress,
I suggest you try confrontation therapy…

—Brian McCabe, “Triskaidekaphobia”
published in ZERO (Polygon, 2009)

Happy Friday the 13th to all who celebrate

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Fridaythe13th #triskaidekaphobia

Triskaidekaphobia
Brian McCabe

In order to help you overcome your fear
of what the Chinese call the Lord of Distress,
I suggest you try confrontation therapy.

So, on Black Friday, the day of Christ’s death –
and yes, the thirteenth apostle betrayed him –
which also, as you have said, happens to be

you and your wife’s thirteenth anniversary,
of which you live in so much dread,
we really have the ideal opportunity.

I want you to reserve a room in the Pyramid Hotel.
Unlike many, it has the floor – before you go in,
you must count them, from the ground –

and a room number 1313. On that date it is free
– I have checked – and you will find the rates
to be very reasonable indeed.

You must invite eleven guests – no more, no less.
The centrepiece at dinner should be a pineapple –
count the rows of scales sloping up to the right.

I want you to request that any flowers sent
have the requisite number of petals:
black-eyed Susans; corn marigolds, ragwort.

Read the Cabala to your guests – the section
about Paradise, the Heavenly Fountains,
the Gates of Mercy, the Rivers of Balsam.

This will be your phobia’s last supper.
I’m afraid I can’t – I’ll be away.
Good luck and happy anniversary.

ALT

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146d

Songs from the Last Page
25 April, Musselburgh. £18

Written & performed by composer and songwriter Gareth Williams. Each song in the collection is inspired by the final lines of iconic Scottish literature – from Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes to Ely Percy’s DUCK FEET – transforming these into new pieces of music.

https://www.thebrunton.co.uk/whats-on/songs-from-the-last-page/

#Scottish #literature #music #song

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1y

The City is of Night; perchance of Death…

James “B.V.” Thomson (1834–1882) – poet, journalist, translator, anarchist, atheist – was born #OTD, 23 Nov, in Port Glasgow. Best known for his long poem THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT, he influenced TS Eliot & is seen as a progenitor of Modernism

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https://psychogeographicreview.com/the-city-of-dreadful-night/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Victorian #19thCentury #modernism #TSEliot

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146d

Beneath a Mona Lisa smile you’re splayed
for pinning. I recall the callipered
shadow of Vitruvian Man, from caverns
and hollowed trees to this small page…

—Morag Smith, “Renaissance Bat”
from DON’T. EVEN. ASK. TOO. HOT. New Writing Scotland 42 (ASL, 2024)

Today, 17 April, is Bat Appreciation Day 🦇

https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws42/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #bats #BatAppreciationDay

Morag Smith
RENAISSANCE BAT

(From a watercolour, circa 1790, Asian Lesser False
Vampire)

Beneath a Mona Lisa smile you’re splayed
for pinning. I recall the callipered
shadow of Vitruvian Man, from caverns
and hollowed trees to this small page.
Notice the artist’s worship of your thumb-claws
– they hold up sails of wings that can make
the air water for swimming in. Deep time
echoes in those downy caves of ears.
We drew pyramids and squares, you listened,
carried the pox for fifty million years,
ate our locust plagues and held within
your matchstick bones what’s near forgotten:
that God’s an insectivorous vertebrate
thirty-four grammes in weight.

ALT

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243d

Reading Scotland’s Witches
20 Jan, 6–7:30 German time (5–6:30 GMT), free online

Dr Cordula Lemke looks at witchcraft in Scottish literature, & how Geillis Duncan – one of the first Scottish witches to die in the early modern witch-hunt frenzy – is remembered in literature & popular culture today

@litstudies

https://www.scotland.uni-mainz.de/reading-scotland/

#Scottish #literature #history #witchcraft #popularculture

READING SCOTLAND
with Cordula Lemke

Scotland’s Witches

Tuesday, 20th January 2026
6:00–7:30pm (German time) on MS Teams

www.scotland.uni-mainz.de

ALT

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223d

Lochhead’s Mary
26 March, Perth. £7.50/£5

Liz Lochhead’s Mary Queen of Scots Got Her Head Chopped Off is one of the most iconic plays in modern Scottish theatre. This special event will reflect on Lochhead’s enduring influence on Scottish writing & identity

https://www.culturepk.org.uk/event/lochheads-mary/

#Scottish #literature #theatre #drama #LizLochhead #MaryQueenofScots #history #identity #ScottishIdentity

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243d

Lourd on my hert as winter lies
The state that Scotland’s in the day.
Spring to the North has aye come slow
But noo dour winter’s like to stay
For guid,
And no’ for guid!

—Hugh MacDiarmid, “Lourd on My Hert”
published in SELECTED POETRY (New Directions, 1993)

https://www.ndbooks.com/book/selected-poetry/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #HughMacDiarmid #Scots #Scotslanguage #winter

Lourd on My Hert
by Hugh MacDiarmid

Lourd on my hert as winter lies
The state that Scotland’s in the day.
Spring to the North has aye come slow
But noo dour winter’s like to stay
For guid,
And no’ for guid!

O wae’s me on the weary days
When it is scarce grey licht at noon;
It maun be a’ the stupid folk
Diffusin’ their dullness roon and roon
Like soot
That keeps the sunlicht oot.

Nae wonder if I think I see
A lichter shadow than the neist
I’m fain to cry: “The dawn, the dawn!
I see it brakin’ in the East.”
But ah
– It’s juist mair snaw!

ALT

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146d

In dusk, from in among the walnut tree
and its bearing down upon the damaskina,
although we never see the bat unwrap
like a sticky sweet from the paper…

—WN Herbert, “The Bat”
from OMNESIA (Bloodaxe, 2013)

https://www.poetryinternational.com/en/poets-poems/poems/poem/103-22731_THE-BAT

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #bats #BatAppreciationDay

THE BAT
W. N. Herbert

In dusk, from in among the walnut tree
and its bearing down upon the damaskina,
although we never see the bat unwrap
like a sticky sweet from the paper

of suddenly frictionless voiceless wings,
it begins to bi-, to trilocate, to be
anywhere at once in air's old film, wavering
with half-seen insects – it's in the field,

the garden, even underneath the canopy
of vineleaves that, by day, shades the little patio.
We watch the sky a dropping sun's turned gray
after an hour of lemon, mango, watermelon –

though this still lets some light be gleaned
through a wing like a sallow, puffed-out cheek,
a torch shone through a bloodless hand,
but gone in the second you understand

as though showing how exactly we must leave
each day – and do – a gathering of senses, sights
too small or intricate to count as insight,
too brief to form what we'd call belief.

The bat, that master of departures, is lost
to night, forgetting as it misses each leaf
and every branch: a figure of omnesia,
the way the world desires to be the past.

ALT

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1y

When you were people
We could have loved you,
Found out your names
And brought you presents…

—“Poem for Innocent Victims of War” by AC Jacobs (1937–1994) – born #OTD, 30 May

Published in NAMELESS COUNTRY: Selected Poems (Carcanet, 2018)

A 🎂 🧵

1/6

https://www.carcanet.co.uk/9781784106751/nameless-country/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #Jewish #diaspora #20thcentury #warpoetry

Poem for Innocent Victims of War
A. C. Jacobs

You did not die for me
Or love or desperation.
No-one chipped your names
On plaques on peaceful blocks of stone.
You are just the useless dead
Who mock our daily sin of passion,
Climb through our heads in cold, slow silence.

When you were people
We could have loved you,
Found out your names
And brought you presents.
We could have walked around with your response.

Or even if you chose to die
We might have understood your longing
And written down your utmost fear.

Now, though, you have got beyond our feelings,
And we can never almost follow
To learn your last shared and perfect secret.

ALT

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171d

Hear my prayer, O non-existent God,
accept these cries into thy nothingness,
thou, who never leaves poor men unblessed
by your false comfort…

—Don Paterson, “Atheist Prayer”
from THE ARCTIC (Faber, 2023)

Today, March 23, is Atheist Day

https://www.faber.co.uk/product/9780571338191-the-arctic/

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #atheism #AtheistDay

Atheist Prayer
Don Paterson

after Miguel de Unamuno

Hear my prayer, O non-existent God,
accept these cries into thy nothingness,
thou, who never leaves poor men unblessed
by your false comfort. Your perfect fraud
was all I ever yearned for, my old friend:
when you withdraw, my memory is assailed
by every silly song and fairy tale
my mother read to sweeten the day’s end.

How great you are, my absent god! So rare
and boundless, an idea less than air:
O look how very thin the world has grown
in trying to meet you. For you and you alone
I suffer, Lord; for you, I die and die –
since were you to exist … Then so might I.

ALT

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242d

Orcadian author Ann Scott-Moncrieff (1914–1943) was born #OTD, 11 January. Lesley Findlay, her daughter, talks about Ann’s life in Orkney, her writing, & her children’s stories – recently republished by Scotland Street Press

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https://www.scotlandstreetpress.com/journal/who-was-ann-scott-moncrieff

#Scottish #literature #20thCentury #Orkney #WomenWriters #ChildrensLiterature #kidlit

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