Sunday 30 August 2015

nuit blanche, almost / pretty much / as near as makes no difference

Nuit blanche

Going onto Twitter gave me some photos I had never wanted to see. 5 year old children in clear water, over smooth looking sand, a foot deep.

This morning I sat with an acquaintance and we said 'Palmyra' to each other.

Things aren't all bad - I introduced my younger son to his little cousin in Oxford today. She had made ice cream mice for us. The little ears were pine nuts and the beady eyes were chopped up bits of raisin.

She read out the first page and a half of The Railway Children to us. She has the advantage of speaking English fluently. Some wonderful guesses at pronunciation. I hope I can make someone giggle with my Arabic one day.

We compared the sizes of our feet after I said hallo to her with my left one while she was lurking behind her mother :) It's so, so lovely to be able to relax totally with my beautiful family.

Friday was a wonderful day too, T and I spent hours talking in and around the small room he has and the furniture in it. Eventually he had a brain wave while we walked to get food and we had further strokes of luck in a furniture shop and in a mini industrial estate when I needed a delivery driver.

To top it off we made an unplanned family visit and were welcomed so warmly, taking a photo to celebrate. So that was my Friday Evening for this week :)

Julie Whiting - Hitting this wall - Other walls - Names

Hitting this wall

It has taken weeks to realise what caused me to hit this particular wall. It was reading a poem by my friend Julie Whiting. It is one of a series, not yet published.

I had thought I'd be drinking my Lebanese coffee with lots of sugar in the sunshine and generally feeling at peace.

Instead I was doing two things.

Looking across the street, gazing through the lamp posts and cars, holding thoughts in my head.

Then I would be looking at the words, perhaps two at a time as I read across the lines. The moment I'd start doing this I would sense the air touching my arm, face, neck. At the same time I would have in my mind the images or facts from a few lines further back in my head.

After that I would shift to looking across the street again and would stop perceiving the air moving over me, why?

This happened every time I looked down then looked up again.

I don't want to give the game away by talking about the poem. You might get to read it one day. Read it fresh, without expecting it.

Other walls

Not wanting time to move forward. Stay still, move slowly, don't disappear. If I have to wait for things, then that's how it is.

Names 

The Waterstone's in the centre of Oxford has the best poetry section. I read the names on the spines. All these names I know. I can't read the collections or even one poem, but I can read the names.

Friday 28 August 2015

Anthony Wilson - Lifesaving Poems

This is the last book I read before stopping for a while. Since I cannot take in poetry at all at the moment, I just read his prose comments on each writer.

Anthony Wilson set himself a task of writing out one poem from each writer who meant the most to him. He then explained why he made those choices on his blog several years ago.

Really the book is about Poetry Exhaustion. He knows of several varieties of it. Arriving for no reason. Arriving after being 'too ready to follow every whim', ie reading too much, sheer greediness. There must be others.

'all we really have as poets is the process' page 122

The book is stuffed with names of poets and collections, so it would be helpful for anyone at a loss to know what to read next.

My problem is that even a few words are too dense, I don't want them. The night sky and the full moon is enough. Music in the car and the Proms on Radio 3. All my ill friends.

Wednesday 26 August 2015

Reading out loud - Curses and Blessings - Sewing - Just reading Arabic

Reading out loud in Arabic

So much for reading out loud to my son H. He said I sounded like a little child counting to 10. Starting out strongly for 1, 2, 3 but then trailing off and getting uncertain. Thanks a bunch! True though it is.

Curses and blessings

A thread on the Hall Forum has shifted to thinking and writing about the archaeologist murdered in Palmyra less than a week ago.

Sewing

I feel so much more myself when I have a needle and wool in my hands. I am at the sewing together stage of a huge project. Making a wintry coloured door hanging for some future home. To keep out the -12c temperatures at night.

Just reading Arabic

I have finally given up reading both English poetry and prose. So now I am left with just Arabic prose. Simplified and with the translation on the facing page. Sometimes I read several words before I look to check the translation. That's a wonderful feeling.

Why do words which normally end in ية end in يا instead in my book? This is a new quirk.

Sunday 23 August 2015

Still poetried-out

but getting interesting flashes or revelations. Not in a religious cave type way, but in a connecting my dots helpful way.

so

... continue with doing pairs of poems while half ignoring the Proms

... go on more rainy walks, as long as I have one pair of dry shoes/boots I can go out there

... try doing a series on my most touchy and difficult subject. Well, which one? I must have half a dozen 'don't go there' subjects

... continue with my Friday Evenings, I have wanted to do this for absolute years, I needed a certain question a while back to help me realise this

... live in the now, ie replace light bulbs and go to Sainsburys to buy more light bulbs and bleach

... raise my eyes in astonishment at the fact that I am able to read the second piece in an Arabic text book from the 80's a neighbour has lent me for 2 years so far!, it has all sorts of combinations of letters which have foxed me in my other books, but this one has explanations :)

I was about to return it to her unread, but decided to give it one last chance. Since I couldn't follow the first piece, I tried the second one and it was so much clearer. Never be surprised by anything when learning/forgeting a language. There is more forgetting than remembering, that's my tip to everyone. How many rivulets of rain are needed to create a dip and then a tiny river? Lots.


Friday 21 August 2015

The Drone Eats With Me - Atef Abu Saif

I feel suspended in mid air, watching a father and a mother make up explanations for the explosions, and the older brothers understanding the need to hide the truth from their tiny sister.

That age, 18 months old, is one I remember as being the one with more night time wake ups than ever before. A surge in brain development and awareness leading to 2 hour wake up times in the night, with the little person crawling around on top of the duvet saying the new word learnt in the day.

The book doesn't mention bedtime stories or rituals beyond watching the children fall asleep. So I have to imagine and of course I can't. My own children are all I know, all I will ever really know.

I keep on writing 'why?' on the pages, because the book doesn't tell me what I want to know.

What is it that enables wonderful, wise and compassionate politicians to do their work? Where does the ability to make a calm assessment come from?

At the recent election here I saw representatives from all the parties standing around trying to sway us in the fruit/vegetable market near my parents' house in London. I went to the UKIP man and told him I wouldn't ever be voting for him, but thanked him for being part of the political system, told him it was so important to be part of it.

When I give my reactions to any book like this in a blog post, I am demonstrating the possibility of not trying to do everything in a review.

This is simply one reaction. Other people can react to different sections in different ways. There are no marks to be gained, just the opening up of the possibility of sharing our own thoughts.

This is what using a timer and passing it around the circle means. Only that ritual includes privacy and the much more personal thoughts which I don't put here.

...


I need to add to this: All I can think about is the image of families coming close for a meal, then boom, gone.  And the step-mother with the tears running from her eyes after each day of funeral gatherings. All these family relationships.

First time and 'Give it a go'

Ages ago I decided to do a political action for Libya. Here are the draft posts from the day before and the day afterwards. What I didn't realise until a few weeks later was that fasting means no drinking either! I had been spending the day feeling terrified of not eating for hours and hours, but at the same time sipping all sorts of herbal teas while resting on the sofa!!! Not a full fast at all. Never mind, I meant well.

...

First time

I feel a bit of a twit, but I'll try to fast for as much of tomorrow as I can. I have never been asked to take part in a fast before. It's in support of Libya, so I have a tray of goodies to eat at crack of dawn! Then I'll go back to sleep with indigestion. All in a very good cause, so we'll see. Apparently staying in bed and taking it very easy is best.

Luckily I have some dates in the house and even humous for the evening.


'Give it a go'

That's what one tweeter said about doing a one day, dawn to dusk fast. The writer had no idea of the sheer level of fear even attempting such a thing gave me.

Even though it was on Thursday I still haven't completely digested (!) the process and am still mentally out of synch with my normal life. I couldn't sleep last night until after 6am, now that is a level of insomnia I haven't experienced for ages and can normally be blamed on a strong coffee. My heart started beating intensely and my thoughts were racing.

Tuesday 18 August 2015

Being shouted at - Listening - Virtual grandmother

Once I was shouted at so intensely that all I saw was the rectangular box of the mouth and the two eyes. I took in none of the words, apart from the fact that there was no swearing. My reply was full of swearing.

In contrast I sat in a friend's kitchen today, holding a mug of coffee, waiting for her to say more, for her face to keep on shifting, for her thoughts to come. I asked some questions and listened to the words she used.

A new game has come along, Fall Out Shelter. It involves many things, but all I care about is the babies! H announced he'd got 3 on the way! I kept on asking if the mothers had gone into labour yet. Eventually he rushed into the kitchen and showed me that the first one had been born. I was so thrilled :) Over the next 15 mins the others arrived.

My mother in law came in, so we told her about one virtual baby. We didn't let on about the other two, she was shocked enough by just one :)

Where is this small patch of grass with its own tiny pond and willow herb?

The view from a peaceful place to rest, read about war, have bare feet, ignore the loud punting noises and eat an apple thinking about a friend's poem.



Latest first: Some of us have uploaded our Soundcloud recordings for the Ashmolean, soon to be put out on their Twitter feed.

I need a minder: In London I told a man in a shop 'Your Arabic is really nice.' As if I can judge.

Brian Eno: I still love these 3 songs, for driving between here and there, just being while in the fast lane, Silver Morning, Deep Blue Day ,Weightless

A great watch: Mehdi Hasan interviewing Russell Brand 

Khubz al-mawz: banana cake really

A poetry book shop in London: coming soon

Human Rights Watch, Chatham House, Redress, PEN and others continue to meet to keep up the pressure on Bahrain: 373 views so far, increase that if possible.

August's Prisoner of Conscience: ifex is focusing on one a month

What have I done for the Syrian refugees recently? Exactly.

I wrote an effusive greeting on the noticeboard at work. Today there was another comment in Arabic. So I wrote a question under it. What will happen next?

Wednesday 12 August 2015

12th Aug 2014 to 12th Aug 2015

That reading and dinner was the start of an era and the results are in today: print publication in Obsessed with Pipework 71 and selection for reading at Ekphrasis at the Ashmolean on 22nd Aug.

Many thanks to the lively souls who make up and stir up my world.

I need some outdoor medicine over the next few weeks, so I am prescribing myself many hours of being outdoors, as little reading as possible and much gazing at clouds and leaves.



Tuesday 11 August 2015

Endless Questions

I have found 2 different plurals, plus one dual for the word for bathroom. I'm ok with the dual, but why is there one masculine and one feminine plural? This is all on one page of my text book. I can live without the answer, but am curious.

حمام

حمامان

حمامين
حمامات

Please comment below if you know the answer.

Sunday 9 August 2015

قبل اسبوعين حضرت محاضرة

Article from Al Monitor com on the destruction and illegal trade of artefacts in the Middle East. The RCSS held a meeting in Yemen, UNESCO released a report and another meeting was held in Paris by the Experts Meeting on the Safeguarding of Yemen's Cultural Heritage.

3 lectures in a row on this topic at the Ashmolean Museum on Saturday 25th July.

قبل اسبوعين حضرت  محاضرة عن الدمار على مدينتان الموصل والنمرود, في المتحف اشموليان في اكسفورد

Vocab:

حضرت - I attended

محاضرة - a lecture

الدمار - the destruction


Thursday 6 August 2015

Nour Bishouty - Shubbak 2015

http://www.nourbishouty.com/INSTEAD-OF-A-RESOLUTION

Take a look at this photo. I really like the long line of red rectangles. No, I haven't the faintest idea what I am meant to think. By the way, don't tell me what to think. I need that freedom. The no-words-i-ness of it all. My head is too filled with words already.

What do I like about this?

I think, hmm, that is a straight line, but I enjoy this one.

The reds are all the same, I like that regularity, why is that?

Some are bigger than others, but they are all of a similar type. They fit together.

It is tidy, that makes me happy too.

I have a thing about gallery walls, all that calm space, letting the little rectangles be cherished.

What bothers me about this? 

The table of things all jumbled up to the side.

Nowhere to sit and think, standing gives me backache and a jiggly feeling, I'd rather settle somewhere and gaze at this equivalent of a beach.

Where are the people?

Where is the short video of the artist chatting about what scissors she uses to cut out the cloth?

That's the best bit for me, similar to seeing a poet deal with a loud lorry blotting out some of their words, or seeing them smile as they talk to us and reach down to drink from their water. It is the real part of the objects and colours stuck on a wall in a public building.

Anything else?

Nour Bishouty is hoping to take part in this Kickstarter Project. 4 artists will travel on separate cargo ships for the 23 day trip from Vancouver to Shanghai. They will be artists in residence.

Saturday 1 August 2015

The whine of the engines

From my father's desk, the place with internet!, I can hear the planes flying down the Thames to Heathrow. At home I hear birds and strange hoots or howls in the night, here it is always the planes, night and day.

How long before the next one comes over? Ah, here it is. One goes then the next one arrives. 12.28. 12.29, now silence... 12.30 yes, here comes the next one, a higher pitched whine, I have never listened so carefully to them before, 12.31, at its loudest now, passing over and fading. Mixed up with a second one, also now at its loudest.... there's an echo-y sound as it fades. 12.32.. oh and another is arriving before that one had disappeared.

So, if there is an actual gap between them that is a special pleasure. It's only 12.33. What a busy time of day. That one was a bigger plane, deeper engines. 12.34.. nearly silence, will it happen? No! Hallo next one. Still only 12.34.
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