by Brooke Hardwick
There are some cities that have only ever come to me in dreams. I am not talking about Paris or Prague. The cities that come to me are not real. They only exist in the garnet depths of night when I sleep.
Continue reading “What Dreams May Come: Unleashing Creativity”
I have a friend who is a psychologist. I have yet to see a person meet her and not worriedly suggest that she has been analysing them.
Little do they know that this couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s not my friend who’s watching them.
It’s me. Continue reading “What Are You Looking at? The Voyeur Inside Every Writer”
Brooke Hardwick Writer 