I am now firmly entrenched in the wonderful Shake the Dust initiative as a poet shadow working with the marvellous Alfie Crow, and though we haven't gone into the school yet (first session on Tuesday!) I am already excited to be a part of it all. In fact, I've just spent the last hour reciting a poem in order to memorise it for performance - for the first time ever. I'm quite excited and scared about the prospect of freezing and forgetting everything at an inopportune moment, but hopefully the story of the poem and the mental map I've sort of created as I've been doing it will help.
Actually, no, who am I kidding. Memorising and reciting a poem isn't something I've done since I was about 10. I'm terrified! And to test this new practice in front of 150 12/13 year olds?! Oh my. Ohhhh my.
Talking of new experiences, I am also in the process of creating my own website! I've picked up quite a bit of html over the years, enough to decipher and amend pages and make existing designs do what I want, but I'm determined to build an xhtml and CSS website from scratch this time, so it's a very steep learning curve to get things looking how I want. Even though all I want is to keep things very simple! There's something very satisfying about learning it on the fly and getting links to change colour when you hover on them, or moving your sidebar so it floats left and leaves enough room for the main content to appear next to it.... no? Just me? Oh well...
In other news, I am getting rats at the beginning of March! Squee!
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Monday, 26 September 2011
Not taking my own advice.
I have been honing my collection into a shorter pamphlet so I can enter some upcoming competitions. In editing all of the poems I think are worthy I have realised a truth: though my collection is called How to speak to your mother, I am yet to write a poem that does.
The more I think about it, the more of an oversight this seems. How did I not notice this before?
The more I think about it, the more of an oversight this seems. How did I not notice this before?
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Pegasuses, and taking flight.
I feel a poetry reboot coming along. Pegasuses have been plaguing my mind... and I feel the need for a load more work and a load more poems to send out and a general increase in poetic energy. And poetic focus.
All this, and I am still in training, with my first race (10K) on Sunday. It turns out, too, that I am not the only poet doing the Great North Run this year! (Not that I thought I was, but it's nice to find some other self-identified poet-types also taking on the physical task). Kate Fox, Sheree Mack and Scott Tyrell are all running, too, and probably much faster than me. I sense a most poetical exertion, and wonder how many other writers will be in the midst, without even realising that they are not alone!
All this, and I am still in training, with my first race (10K) on Sunday. It turns out, too, that I am not the only poet doing the Great North Run this year! (Not that I thought I was, but it's nice to find some other self-identified poet-types also taking on the physical task). Kate Fox, Sheree Mack and Scott Tyrell are all running, too, and probably much faster than me. I sense a most poetical exertion, and wonder how many other writers will be in the midst, without even realising that they are not alone!
Monday, 20 June 2011
Running, running.
I'm doing two runs this summer, then, it turns out. The Great North 10K and the Great North Run. Yikes.
Having just spent a Friday at the Great North Swim witnessing C complete a 2 mile open water slog in lake Windermere, I am actually looking forward to the sheer event of a 'Great North [something]' and being involved in the collective effort. I am very nervous, though, about both - but especially the half marathon. The furthest I've run so far is about 11K, and I need to at least double that distance in three months. And in my barefoot running shoes, which my poor achey foot bones are still adjusting to, really. Cripes.
Does anyone have any tips for avoiding blood blisters on the bottoms of toes?
Anyway, in the meantime, I'd really appreciate if you'd sponsor my efforts. I know running two may seem a bit greedy, but they are for two very good and deserving causes, quite apart from my suffering feet: Scope (for all the times, as a kid, I used the horrendous words 'spaz' or 'spacker' as an insult, without realising where they came from) and the Alzheimer's Society (because so many people are affected by this ravaging disease - and I loved the recent drama Exile). Perhaps you could split the usual amount you'd sponsor between the two? Every penny counts.
Great North 10K
Great North Run
Thank you! xx
Having just spent a Friday at the Great North Swim witnessing C complete a 2 mile open water slog in lake Windermere, I am actually looking forward to the sheer event of a 'Great North [something]' and being involved in the collective effort. I am very nervous, though, about both - but especially the half marathon. The furthest I've run so far is about 11K, and I need to at least double that distance in three months. And in my barefoot running shoes, which my poor achey foot bones are still adjusting to, really. Cripes.
Does anyone have any tips for avoiding blood blisters on the bottoms of toes?
Anyway, in the meantime, I'd really appreciate if you'd sponsor my efforts. I know running two may seem a bit greedy, but they are for two very good and deserving causes, quite apart from my suffering feet: Scope (for all the times, as a kid, I used the horrendous words 'spaz' or 'spacker' as an insult, without realising where they came from) and the Alzheimer's Society (because so many people are affected by this ravaging disease - and I loved the recent drama Exile). Perhaps you could split the usual amount you'd sponsor between the two? Every penny counts.
Great North 10K
Great North Run
Thank you! xx
Monday, 6 June 2011
Ah, Summer.
I miss very much the convenience of being able to run in the cloak of darkness at a reasonable hour, whilst the temperature is maintained at a very agreeable level of coolness to prevent such redness of cheek as to stop traffic.
In other news, I am enjoying poetry quite a lot at the moment, though not necessarily writing very much of it. It's proving much fun working with Well Versed (via New Writing North) and with teachers and children in schools. It feels very worthwhile getting involved in the teaching of poetry without sweeping into a school and delivering a workshop - and then invariably sweeping away again, leaving teachers with their classroom objectives and no relevant outcome to apply to the curriculum in a lasting way. Really getting involved in how teachers teach the writing of poetry feels like a longer-lasting, and confidence-building, exercise, for all involved. Including me.
There's definitely something to be said for professionalising poetry. I was discussing this the other day with the teacher I am working with: that sitting down to write a poem, especially when you have a full time job, feels self-indulgent and as if you're slacking off something much more important. Doing a course has given the teachers that sense of professionalisation, and my MA did that too, at the time. Taking part in some professional development like this is having the same effect on me now. I like it.
Sometimes I wonder if the self-doubt and debilitating over-thinking that accompanies being a poet ever goes away, or diminishes with an increasing output of published work. Having attended the Poetry Society annual lecture on 'On Being Old' delivered by CK Williams (author of 14 collections, a 'Selected' and a 'Collected'), it seems that this is not the case. Even he often wonders if he is really a poet at all, or can claim to be called one, when he's not writing. Though mildly alarming, this is also somewhat comforting.
He also had this brilliant advice: "Wisdom is basically poop, except for patience." Indeed.
In other news, I am enjoying poetry quite a lot at the moment, though not necessarily writing very much of it. It's proving much fun working with Well Versed (via New Writing North) and with teachers and children in schools. It feels very worthwhile getting involved in the teaching of poetry without sweeping into a school and delivering a workshop - and then invariably sweeping away again, leaving teachers with their classroom objectives and no relevant outcome to apply to the curriculum in a lasting way. Really getting involved in how teachers teach the writing of poetry feels like a longer-lasting, and confidence-building, exercise, for all involved. Including me.
There's definitely something to be said for professionalising poetry. I was discussing this the other day with the teacher I am working with: that sitting down to write a poem, especially when you have a full time job, feels self-indulgent and as if you're slacking off something much more important. Doing a course has given the teachers that sense of professionalisation, and my MA did that too, at the time. Taking part in some professional development like this is having the same effect on me now. I like it.
Sometimes I wonder if the self-doubt and debilitating over-thinking that accompanies being a poet ever goes away, or diminishes with an increasing output of published work. Having attended the Poetry Society annual lecture on 'On Being Old' delivered by CK Williams (author of 14 collections, a 'Selected' and a 'Collected'), it seems that this is not the case. Even he often wonders if he is really a poet at all, or can claim to be called one, when he's not writing. Though mildly alarming, this is also somewhat comforting.
He also had this brilliant advice: "Wisdom is basically poop, except for patience." Indeed.
Friday, 29 April 2011
Just testing - much excitement
...and confusion, apparently, about my new phone.
Also, we're just watching Pride and Prejudice. Matthew Mcfadyen is a most agreeable Darcy.
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