Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Yesterday, while autumnal downpours augmented my already stark mood, manifesting from Leeds' move into tier three coronavirus restrictions, I found great catharsis in my art. This therapy manifesting in the form of pencil drawing three caricatures. Each depicting cast members of the classic 1970's BBC TV comedy Dad's Army, an act imparting a welcome serenity... Continue Reading →
While morbidly rubber-necking at the car crash masquerading as the US presidential election campaign, it struck me how many of the country's powerful women utilise both maiden and married surnames within their monikers. In a move, no doubt, providing raised esprit levels among anagram enthusiasts, the honourable ladies Amy Coney Barrett, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Alexandria... Continue Reading →
Being partisan neutral, yours truly ordinarily affords penning on the subject of politics the shortest of shrifts. Akin to my late father, this borne from a cynicism surrounding politicians motives, regardless of which end of the ideological spectrum they represent. This indifferent outlook doesn't stop GJ Strachan's partaking in polling station visits. However, whilst among... Continue Reading →
Under COVID's watch, it's clear brio levels during Halloween, Bonfire Night on the 5th November, along with the Christmas period will be significantly lower than usual. Under virus restrictions, these traditional festivals/events will afford only a fraction of the perennial verve normally brought to the table. Amongst my thoughts on virus impact, it dawned on... Continue Reading →
I commence this chronicle after completing an online writing test for a role which I'm interested in. My fate now in the hands of the test assessor, god and the grim reaper...... Yes, the penalty for failure in this exam is pretty stark! As I'd never undertaken an examination of my grammatical wherewithal, it was... Continue Reading →
This afternoon, while driving on the A63 to collect meds, a huge truck travelling on the adjacent carriageway, passed me in the opposite direction. An unremarkable incident in itself. However, I became a tad disconcerted when, on it's approach, reading the driver went by the handle of Sleepy J. This moniker emblazoned atop the monster... Continue Reading →
Due to upcoming changes in my personal circumstances, I've been applying for creative writing opportunities online. Thus far I've received no response. Although, as the applications were only submitted yesterday evening, perhaps GJ Strachan needs to employ a smidgeon more patience. As I've penned many times previously in these narratives, in middle age on this... Continue Reading →
Since Thursday, I've been afforded liberty from the metaphorical grasp self-isolation had around my throat. Although, to be honest, that two week episode felt more like self-isolation had me by the testicles not the throat. Yours truly utilising the term throat, though, as I'm fully aware impart the word testicles in my narrative would've perhaps... Continue Reading →
At school my weakest subjects were science based lessons. Chemistry, Biology and Physics bored me, and as such I paid them little mind. Subsequently dropping them like a stone at 14 years old; concentrating instead on language based subjects. Consequently, this misguided immaturity of youth meant entering adulthood with a shaky, at best, grasp of... Continue Reading →