Friday, November 06, 2009
Holey
My next Writing Poetry workshop series starts tomorrow. It's got kinda a catchy title, I think The Three Rs: Revise, Rewrite and Redraft.
'Course, most writers will know that those three Rs are basically variations of the one R, write? I mean, right?
I'm repeating myself. I've been reading Plath's poetry today. There are a lot of repetitions in it.
I used to know 'Daddy' and 'Lady Lazarus' off by heart [mostly because I had to learn poems for Speech & Drama assessment] but now my memory is holey.
Hope the workshops go okay. Working on the lesson plan now. Hark at her.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
A tip
My writing desk looks like a rubbish tip today. Stacks of paper everywhere. How can anyone create in such a space? I can't. It's just my landing strip where I do my email and then flit off again.
I have so many things I want to do but there is a civil war inside me that paralyses thought and action.
The halogen light in the hallway blinks a warning.
Sometimes I am a snail, recoiling from a grain of salt.
I haven't done my activity report here a little while. I think almost a whole year. It's been a strange year anyway. Even without active pursuit of publication, some poems managed to find homes.
I will do one at the end of the month.
It won't be 'til February next year when I hear about a bursary I applied for, for what I think is a pretty cool project. If I get it, well... I am hopeful.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Scrimshaw mask
Okay, sometimes I can give a journal leeway of years before I give up on them and their unresponsive ways. I just a put a line through their name and say to myself, 'Self, it's not you, it's them.' Then, I amble along in my lackadaisical, meandering way until I see a tasty theme or irresistible journal that fans my smoulder to a spark, a flame to a bonfire and then I send off a carefully-worded cover letter, a minutely-selected clutch of poems for the editor to read.
But this! Come on. You, journal of artful dishevelment and James Dean devil-may-caredness, you are having me on, with your dark hair curled over one eye and that lifted hitch of a lip, you say to others, 'I have sent out my rejection notes! You should be getting one soon!' Oh, I wait and wait but I hear nothing. I, too, send you my nudges and winks [Dear Journal... dear journal, oh, dear journal...] but nary a note comes my way.
And so I retire, stare at your covers with longing, and sigh, and send curt what-is-the-status-of-my-recent-contribution emails that are only a scrimshaw mask to my ardour. When, oh when, can I expect to hear from you, dear journal?
Friday, October 30, 2009
Let the cream rise to the top
Caption Contest Throwdown: Round 2 (click to view)
The judges have spoken, but your votes determine who continues on in hopes of winning the competition and who is OUT.Who wrote the best caption in this Round?
View Results
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
All the Dead Dears
Happy birthday, Sylvia Plath.
Finished the first draft of a bursary application! Another one where I leave 'til the last minute. Will I never learn? It's a false excitement, I tell you. False!
I don't think I'll be getting the UK residency I applied for. Their interview date is in the next couple of days and I would've heard something by now, like, 'Buy your train ticket! We want to meet you!'
Ah well, there's always next year.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Captions
You might see a familiar name here.
Yay!
Midway through a course of antibiotics, which seems to be fending off the chest infection successfully. Hurray for penicillin!
However, this means I have a to-do list longer than I know what to do with.
Oh, yeah, I just remembered. I'm doing this [here's the blog].
Just trying to whip up a bit more live poetry in Cardiff. I'm glad that there seems to be more and more of an arty scene here.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Swooning over ink
I thought fellow letterpress lovers would enjoy swooning over this blog post about a special unveiling of a recreated early press.
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