Creative Tuesday

so many exciting things - plus an attempt to film snails!

I am less ill and have embraced this with unwise but entirely fulfilling enthusiasm. Today began with watering tomatoes (which is creative in itself) and continued with a host of poetry projects which do little to demonstrate my assertion that I’m more focused on one thing at a time. I get so excited to be able to do anything that I try to do all the things all at once. This is also the first week in long, long time that I’ve not used my planner which explains the scattered approach.

On to the matters of the day. First task was to put together some thoughts about the barriers to publication, particularly for women, ready for a focus group this evening. It’s not until I started gathering my thoughts that I realised how frustrating I find the path to publication. It’s shrouded with mystery, unfamiliar words, and an overwhelming sense that there is a “right” way to do things that everyone else knows but me. Issues around mobility, living outside a useful public transport network and social anxiety all impact too and are thing that I will mention. It’ll be interesting to understand how others feel and it’s a positive step for people to try to come together to exact change.

Next on the day’s buffet of creativity was a feedback session with

Wendy Pratt

. I‘ve worked with Wendy for several years now, though various online poetry groups and on a 121 basis and find her gentle, intelligent manner (and that fact she writes brilliantly) inspiring and unthreatening – two things that are rarely found together. This morning I was seeking feedback for two poems, both pieces that I like, but I’m not quite sure of. I’ve a raft of ideas of how to play and polish in order to make them be what I want them to be.

This sense of letting the poem have enough space to be what it wants to be is a key focus for this year. I realise I often get distracted by the sound or rhythm of the words and veer away from the point I’m trying to make – the true essence of the work. I also know that I tend to dilute my own voice for fear of what others may think. If you’ve been a subscriber for a while, you’ll remember this is my year for being bold – and bold I intend to be.  

I have a quick break to sort out some grocery stuff for mum, and a bit of grief admin (even after this long there are a few things to do) then it’s back to catching up on another of the things I missed last week, namely a Nine Arches Press masterclass on blackout poetry led by Roy McFarlane. What a journey this class was. I adore blackout poetry, but knew so little about it. We looked at work by Tom Phillips, Nicole Sealy and Roy’s own extraordinary collection Living by Troubled Waters. I have made many notes and have a head full of ideas of what I want to do with a poem that is almost where it wants to be. I heartily recommend these classes - as well as being incredibly interesting and inspiring, the fact they are recorded means I can watch back in my own time and at my own pace, rather than being tied into being well enough to function at a particular moment.

I should be stopping now, at least to have a bit of lunch, but excitement rears its head again as I remember a poem I’ve begun about snails, and think has potential to become a poetry film. Out I head to find the stars of the show. There are none. Usually my garden seems like a Snail Travelodge, but today they’ve all eased their way elsewhere. I look a little closer and find myself crouched behind a bin filming the prettiest ochre shelled snail, desperately hoping the air bnb’rs next door can’t see me. Will I make the film? Who knows. I hope so.

I’m definitely flagging now but have one last thing on my ill thought out to do list which is to catch up with

Poetry Pals

prompt for this week. I dip in and out of these, simply because I know I do need to focus rather than spread myself too thin, but this week’s prompt seemed too good to miss. A simple half hour considering what I find beautiful and using that beauty to make another thing I find beautiful seems to help me breathe more deeply, to open myself to the sheer joy or writing, thinking, looking, and exploring. The perfect way to end a creative day.

Thank you so much for reading. I love that I have so many people to share these mini adventures with. You may or may not know that I’ve taken the scary step of turning on paid subscriptions. I’m fairly sure This Wild Feeling will be free to read for a while yet but I know people want to offer their support. To give me a tip/buy me a coffee/keep the cat in the way that he’s accustomed, just upgrade your subscription here.

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Until next time