Missing my global family
It was 7am at Glasgow Airport. From far back in the queue I watched my son and his fellow creatives pass through security en route to Berlin to produce work for the theatre tent at Fusion festival near Hamberg.
He appeared to be in deep discussion with an inspector about a suitcase of LED lights and other electrical equipment he wanted to carry on board. Finally the case was repacked and he was waved through, free to travel a few hours east.
His brother, meanwhile, is thousands of miles south, in New Zealand where he’s writing music, earning a living and snowboarding.
And I boarded a flight west across the Atlantic to Canada where I’m spending a few weeks writing some more chapters of my story.
So for the moment we’re a family on different continents, living in parallel time zones, engrossed in our own creative worlds.
And it’ll be another six months or so before we’re reunited.
I can’t wait.