There is a major problem with writing philosophical letters, one which I only came to appreciate after I had begun writing and when it became clear that my style and my interests tended in this direction: there is simply too much that can be written about. When you begin to explore, it also becomes clear…

I was wondering, as I read your words, what form of an artist you are; whether visual, using the written word or whether you have taken some other form of artistry as your own. The phrase ‘I am an artist’, you see, covers so many genres, and is often abused so easily, that it is…

Many years ago I was asked what I find to write about, how anyone can possible put so many words down on paper or have so much in their mind that it makes a letter worthwhile. I must admit, I was disappointed by the question, not so much because it was asked, but more because…

I wouldn’t exactly say I am against all this new technology, that I find it abhorrent or that it should be banned or similar; I can see the uses and,  must admit, I am one who happily uses it for certain purposes too. I was first introduced to the computer shortly after finishing school, which…

I’ve recently been trying to decide what it is that I miss most living in a small town rather than the big city; as well as trying to justify my decision to buy a house and remain where I am for the foreseeable future. It has not been an easy task, I must admit, because…

I was wondering, reading the little information available, what it is that you could call successful. With the other words you use – open-minded, thoughtful – I have a very clear idea of the meanings and can relate to them immediately; although many people would undoubtedly have different interpretations for open-minded, depending on their upbringing…

Dear Dennis Carleton Latham, I must admit, I was disappointed. I thought that our discussion – at least, it was meant to be a discussion on my part, you clearly had a different agenda – would have borne more fruit, but it was not meant to be. You panicked and raced out of the room…

I can well imagine that anyone reading my letters would gain the impression I am dead set against the internet, against electronic communication, perhaps even against the modern advances made in society through the last fifty or one hundred years. I write about letters, about the joys of using the post, recite and quote from…

I’m caught up between two conflicting emotions at the moment: the first is a desire to always be close to civilisation and have mail deliveries promptly, every day, just as I’ve always had; the second is an increasing strong desire, if not a need, to get away from some of those strange people I encounter…

As I sat down to write today, late afternoon on another day which is going to be called the hottest of the year by those who have the time for such things, my thoughts were turned to a comment you made which formed, as it should, a question in my mind. I’m not one to…