Timepiece

Old watches are my weakness. Old watches and old fountain pens. Okay, old watches, old pens, books of any age, and cowboy boots. But that's it; and most of all it's watches.

Time — what it is, how it felt to other people, why it goes so fast, what it does to memory and perspective, how to handle it in a piece of work — time is the great mystery a writer grapples with. This one, anyway. So a good timepiece, in which the mystery is caught, ordered, and beautifully expressed, is a comforting thing to wear. And when a deadline looms as it always does, I want to be able to find out in the most beautiful way just how little time I've got to go.

I don't go in for fancy things; I believe in style, not fashion. I'm with whoever it was who said that beauty is simplicity in perfection. The most beautiful things work — and go on working — elegantly, without drawing attention to themselves. A nice watch, like a good pen, is a beautiful tool. And I believe in beautiful tools. Such as poems. Such as books.

I like my tools — especially my pens and watches — old because I'm drawn to original things; I like to feel connected, physically, to other lives and other times and places.