Creative Tuesday

Writer's funk, sonnet love and the gloom of the media

My journal this morning opens with

“I am at the point of wondering what the point of all this is”.

Within a sentence or two I do rally a little and note how calm I feel after reading a few more pages of Tormentil, but the sense of dissatisfaction continues throughout this morning’s entry. Increasingly I’m starting to think that perhaps I’m just not good enough. The fact that this feeling is not confined to writing alerts me to the possibility that it’s more about some kind of inner gloom rather than universal incompetence (which could become a reverse skill I suppose – behold the person who is good at nothing”).  I am yearning to be able to give my attention elsewhere yet am tying myself to projects that bring me scant joy. Balance and redress are needed.

Today has been Creative Tuesday, and despite my lacklustre mood, my need for and love of routine mean that I have followed what was in my planner for today. Joyful things that have brought glimmers of contentment.

The morning began with week two of Jean Atkin’s Magnificent Apparel poetry course. Prompts this week included a piece by Thomas Hood, detailing the harshness of clothing production, and a magnificent poem by Rosie Jackson dedicated to Nasrin Sotoudeh. Reading and ruminating on these two poems led me to my own protest piece focused on the way women are represented in the press. The gloom of one day’s worth of reporting on the celebrity gossip pages of a single newspaper is not surprising, but it is sickening. Marry this with incredibly important work done by protest group This Ends Now and the role that the press play in perpetuating oppression and disregard is undeniable.

When poems won’t play nicely

I longed to write in form for this prompt When I’m in a bit of a poetry slump the puzzle of working with form simultaneously distracts and enhances the content in a way that takes on an almost meditative quality. I wrestled for a while, but this poem did not want to be anything other than an erasure poem – and so I let it be. It’s not a terrific poem by any means and will need revision, rework and all the other things that are so essential, but it is words on a page on a day when I feel so incapable. That is something to be proud of, however faint that pride may be.

When poems will play nicely

The second part of my morning was spent in the company of the wonderful Jacqueline Saphra as part of Nine Arches Press webinar series. What I love about this series is that the sessions are recorded and made available for me to use at my own pace. This means I can watch when I feel well (and when the planner says!) and also means I have time to make good quality notes – a key part of my enjoyment of any learning experience.

A box for my dreams – Don Paterson, 101 Sonnets

The sonnet and it’s sonics was a kind of love letter to what I believe to be one of the best-known forms of poetry.  A part of the webinar we enjoyed work from poets as diverse as Gwendolyn Brooks,  Edna St.Vincent Millay, Dianne Seuss and Terrance Hayes, as well as traditional work and some of Jacqueline’s own sonnets. I always find listening to someone who is both an expert and enthusiast captivating and today was no exception. Simply enjoying poems for their own sake is easy to forget – especially in this social media age when everything is comment fodder.

I feel not “better” but certainly less scattered. I think perhaps the answer to this current state of disquiet is either to get away from writing completely (the garden is whispering a soft song of spring) or perhaps to engage in more focused, tiny writing tasks. The big picture is unwieldy and overwhelming sometimes. Perhaps the next few days need to spent exploring and enjoying form – creating structure despite the sense of internal chaos that I’m feeling. Perhaps for now the sonnet will be the box for my dreams.