The Best Edition Of Desert Island Discs yet!

That's a bold claim, I know - and I also can't believe I am four posts into this project, and I haven't mentioned Radio 4 once. That's all set to change - and as you'll soon learn, Radio 4 is my church. I listen to almost every programme it throws at me.

Desert Island Discs is one of the best - and this week the castaway was Frank Cottrell Boyce - screenwriter, playwright, novelist and all round good egg. I've had the pleasure of meeting him a few times - and a more twinkly man it's hard to imagine. He's another of those people whose sheer output can make you feel humbled. 24 Hour Party People and Welcome to Sarajevo would be the pinnacle of most writers careers - but for him, they form only a small part.

Unlike most guests on D.I.D, he didn't have a tough upbringing or any sort of family problems - he loved school, going to church and his parents. He and his wife have seven children because they started having kids and liked it so carried on, and he obviously misses the older ones who've flown the family home. Kirsty Young - often a little restrained - cracked up a couple of times, and succumbed to his charms. I did groan when she asked that tired old chestnut "why do you still live in Liverpool?". But aside from that, the programme was a delightful listen from start to finish, and an inspirational kick up the arse to anyone who's writing anything be it a blog, novel or film script. I loved most of his music choices too - could have done without Big Country, but Noggin the Nog is always welcome - and David Bowie, well as Frank said, his music always seems to tell you that 'life can be a lot more' - what a great philosophy to live by.

You can read Frank's music choices here.

Spun out by a great New York novel

I have just finished Colum McCann's colossal New York novel 'Let the Great World Spin'. Several different narrators weave in and out of each other's lives against the back drop of Philipe Petit's infamous tightrope walk between the twin towers of the World Trade Center in 1974.

It's one of those books which is so beautifully written you have to keep putting it aside just to digest the use and choice of words. I loved the idea of taking that incredible walk as an underlying theme - the idea that Petit did something so audacious and creative and made something put of thin air - yet that walk, that view doesn't exist anymore. As McCann writes, "The tightrope walk was an act of creation that seemed to stand in direct defiance to the act of destruction twenty seven years later".

The book isn't explicitly a 9/11 novel, but Colum McCann was inspired to write it after his father in law escaped from his office in the north tower, and walked to the family home covered in that grim dust. It's true too that every time you picture the tiny figure balancing between those two towers, you can't help but think what came afterwards, and how New York as a city was united by those two episodes in very different ways. It's definitely story which feeds off New York city - from the Bronx projects aflame to a Park Avenue penthouse.

We went to hear Colum McCann talk about the novel a few weeks ago at the Powerhouse Arena in DUMBO, and it was refreshing to hear someone talk honestly about the length of time it takes to write a book - and the difficulty of speaking in voices which are not your own.

My New Favourite Artist (for today, anyway)

There are few things finer than wandering into a gallery to see the work of an artist you have never heard of, only to discover he or she is actually one of your favourites! This happened to me at MOMA in New York city last week, and as a result of my conversion I advise you to make William Kentridge your new number one.

His exhibition Five Themes is a brilliant, multimedia swoop through drawing, torn paper, animation, film and theatre design. Taking themes from the history of his native South Africa and mixing them with avant garde film history and Russian literature - this exhibition will appeal to those who like an artist who can really draw/paint and those who seek to be gobsmacked that one person is capable of creating this immense body of work over just 20 years. My favorite section was an auditorium where we sat spellbound as a mechanical theatre starring motorized puppets and an animated rhino performed Mozart's The Magic Flute. I can say no more than that as I would love you to go and see it for yourselves. Magical. I can truly say I have never seen anything like it. The mechanism reminded me of a toy theatre I had as a child.

This week I have been thinking about the marriage of 'art' and music - and how people who are adept at one often are extremely talented at the other. Check out Iannis Xenakis at the Drawing Center in New York for more. Made my head hurt.

Liberty Targets Me

I am a complete sucker for collaborations between high end brands and high street stores. Way back in the olden days (just checked - it was about 5 years ago), I went faint over Bella Freud for Miss Selfridge, and my heart raced for Luella at New Look. Since then, I fell in love with Celia Birtwell all over again - and her dreamy dresses for Topshop. I've even swallowed the hype by dabbling in Kate Moss for that same store. So I didn't surprise myself by joining the hordes in Bryant Park, New York city for the launch of Liberty of London for Target.

As soon as I heard those two brands in one sentence, I got palpitations. I could never afford a Liberty pencil case at their normal prices - so the idea that some of those fabrics could end up in my wardrobe had my heart beating faster. For a home sick English rose, the shop itself was a slice of everything that's good about Spring in the mother country - daffodils, hydrangeas and tea pots were the right side of twee - and created a sense of nostalgia akin to a Lula magazine photo shoot. Despite the empty shelves (well, I am always late so of course I missed the queues, the stampede and consequently a lot of the good stuff) it was still a beautiful space as you can see from these pictures.

The clothes were lovely - though I could have told Target that five changing rooms wouldn't suffice. Being broke, I left with nothing for myself - but clutching a present for a friend (baby clothes). It doesn't actually matter to me that I didn't buy anything for me, I think the anticipation of seeing the collection and knowing I could afford it if I wanted it is enough.