Allan MacDonald

‘Perhaps the most remote locations now are the inner places within each individual, the exclusive den where the self crouches, beneath the complex strata of...

I'm writing this from a lay-by in a forsaken area of the West Coast of Lewis. The wind is a monotone chant, the rain beats...

The call of the sublime is one of the oldest songs around. It pulls us to ancient and pristine places: the rocky sea-beaten headland, the...