This week in the Gill household, we have been talking about education policy.
My greatest work (so far).
College is finished for the year. I have free time again. Now I just need to remember how to draw.
Perfect for the young child of an undertaker. (Sometimes, it’s important to take a little break from the essay one is writing to do some High Quality Photoshopping.)
It’s important that you never forget how lucky I am.
- You: Are you doing any drawings, Jeff?
- Me: No, I'm writing about how two different newspapers report the same story differently, like I'm a high school student or something. Because apparently this is how you earn a BA these days.
I’ve been trying to learn how to draw tiny young girls for a Christmas present I owe my sister.
A snowman in Wales is a rare and beautiful creature made of purest snow and mud and grass and parents’ determined scavengings.
My son is 15 today. He’s a pretty great guy (except for his taste in music).
In Llandudno, where the old people are stored, dark tendrils grope and hope to steal some shallow breath.












