From above my desk to down by the cables on the tiles. This is how the sheets fell out.
Wednesday, 28 January 2015
Symbolic buttons - Jumping to the 12th century
Symbols
Today I sewed buttons onto fabric heart for a display at No 2 Things. I had to choose them and decide where to sew them on. I had no idea at first. Why buttons on hearts? Given this constraint I picked pairs of buttons to symbolise various relationships.
One person was into cooking, their button reminded me of a pestle and mortar, their button partner was clearly into glass and things that are see through, a photographer?
Two square buttons must have had similar attitudes to travelling, all arrangements fixed before starting.
A tiny triangle button seemed to want to be sewn beneath the hands of a medieval couple dancing round a maypole. I hadn't seen the other woman to one side of the picture on the fabric, but someone else pointed out that there might have been a love triangle there...
It is a lovely feeling to stitch with a needle by hand, cup of tea relatively safely over to one side. A wonderful knitter came in with the wild wind, so then we all talked about the Holocaust programmes, night-time burglaries and my difficult back door.
12th century manuscript
This one is also from the Wellcome collection. Have a look for the words in red ink. Some say 'al-bab something' which means 'chapter something'. There are several different words which come after al-bab, but not that many it seems. I can't work them out, are they meant to be numbers or subject headings? A grammatical term comes in as well, or am I getting all confused?
Today I sewed buttons onto fabric heart for a display at No 2 Things. I had to choose them and decide where to sew them on. I had no idea at first. Why buttons on hearts? Given this constraint I picked pairs of buttons to symbolise various relationships.
One person was into cooking, their button reminded me of a pestle and mortar, their button partner was clearly into glass and things that are see through, a photographer?
Two square buttons must have had similar attitudes to travelling, all arrangements fixed before starting.
A tiny triangle button seemed to want to be sewn beneath the hands of a medieval couple dancing round a maypole. I hadn't seen the other woman to one side of the picture on the fabric, but someone else pointed out that there might have been a love triangle there...
It is a lovely feeling to stitch with a needle by hand, cup of tea relatively safely over to one side. A wonderful knitter came in with the wild wind, so then we all talked about the Holocaust programmes, night-time burglaries and my difficult back door.
12th century manuscript
This one is also from the Wellcome collection. Have a look for the words in red ink. Some say 'al-bab something' which means 'chapter something'. There are several different words which come after al-bab, but not that many it seems. I can't work them out, are they meant to be numbers or subject headings? A grammatical term comes in as well, or am I getting all confused?
You are my black lanterns
That is the title of a poem I put onto 2015 Slant earlier this month. One fellow member of the group suggested films by Jan Svankmajer and Maya Deren. My words had sent his mind in those directions.
Jan Svankmajer Shocking and funny film called 'Breakfast'.
I haven't looked up Maya Deren yet. Someone for another day.
Jan Svankmajer Shocking and funny film called 'Breakfast'.
I haven't looked up Maya Deren yet. Someone for another day.
Friday, 23 January 2015
Scaffolding - Silent movie - Dead end at the Bodleian
My phone takes photos in the dark, so I have 2 of the scaffolding by our back door to add to this post.
Doesn't this remind you of ballet classes? I like the unplanned arrangement of the chairs too.
I also took a silent one handed movie of the things around me at this desk. I might do one of my other desk later. H did things in the kitchen on video, but I can't put that here. He said I sounded like my mother when I played it back.
I want to have a look at Arabic manuscripts, so off I go to the Bodleian. I'd have had more joy from going to the local garage! I did tell myself not to expect too much. It's annoying to be treated as if I had two heads yet again. After that I lurked in my own Department library in the basement and felt more human. On-line manuscript collections seem to be the new thing:
Wellcome Institute
Oxford Bodleian,
Univ of Michigan
Now to actually identify the oldest manuscript in each collection and start from there. I might eat that round chocolate as a prize once I get into one of these sites properly.
Ok, this one is from the 10th century. Now I need someone to answer my questions.
See how the manuscript, a set of pages like a little book, has been photographed from all 4 sides as an object in itself, pages 12 - 15.
I could read herdha and fi ulm on the top line of the first page, but using google translate hasn't helped me with both new words, only one. See the gobbledegook in the middle there.
Doesn't this remind you of ballet classes? I like the unplanned arrangement of the chairs too.
I also took a silent one handed movie of the things around me at this desk. I might do one of my other desk later. H did things in the kitchen on video, but I can't put that here. He said I sounded like my mother when I played it back.
I want to have a look at Arabic manuscripts, so off I go to the Bodleian. I'd have had more joy from going to the local garage! I did tell myself not to expect too much. It's annoying to be treated as if I had two heads yet again. After that I lurked in my own Department library in the basement and felt more human. On-line manuscript collections seem to be the new thing:
Wellcome Institute
Oxford Bodleian,
Univ of Michigan
Now to actually identify the oldest manuscript in each collection and start from there. I might eat that round chocolate as a prize once I get into one of these sites properly.
Ok, this one is from the 10th century. Now I need someone to answer my questions.
See how the manuscript, a set of pages like a little book, has been photographed from all 4 sides as an object in itself, pages 12 - 15.
I could read herdha and fi ulm on the top line of the first page, but using google translate hasn't helped me with both new words, only one. See the gobbledegook in the middle there.
Musings
Understandings
You know when you just read part of a page and then you sit there thinking. Two things have been explained to me just now, while I sat with my feet under a hot water bottle by a draughty window reading an introduction to one Iraqi writer.
I have been reading various things without really knowing what I was reading or why. I'm happy with this, I'd rather the understanding came later, not forced on me by some stranger. I am frowning at the thought. Too much university literature study already in my life. I like to read as and when. Person to person, mind to mind.
So
This sentence came along...which explains a huge amount about Samuel Shimon's book about Paris plus pretty much everything else I have read.
'..layers of voices, places, and eras that continuously stir what we know or remember.' and '..at once about the present and the past..'
Then this came along...which explains a blog I read, or rather puts other words to it.
'..dead poets join living storytellers in narrating.'
Ok, those quotations don't seem so special now, but it doesn't take much to set me off thinking.
Pronunciation
So which version of Arabic do I learn? I think I have picked up another non-fusHa word without knowing it. The way I said the word in class was not the way the teacher said it, so I guess that is another from-the-heart-word which had popped out in non-fusHa and went into my mind just like that. Hmm, more layers of this and that.
No English
I decided I would only speak Arabic in the class, which I stuck to mostly. It surprised our teacher and was helpful. She really tried to understand what I was trying to convey. Sitting at the front always helps.
You know when you just read part of a page and then you sit there thinking. Two things have been explained to me just now, while I sat with my feet under a hot water bottle by a draughty window reading an introduction to one Iraqi writer.
I have been reading various things without really knowing what I was reading or why. I'm happy with this, I'd rather the understanding came later, not forced on me by some stranger. I am frowning at the thought. Too much university literature study already in my life. I like to read as and when. Person to person, mind to mind.
So
This sentence came along...which explains a huge amount about Samuel Shimon's book about Paris plus pretty much everything else I have read.
'..layers of voices, places, and eras that continuously stir what we know or remember.' and '..at once about the present and the past..'
Then this came along...which explains a blog I read, or rather puts other words to it.
'..dead poets join living storytellers in narrating.'
Ok, those quotations don't seem so special now, but it doesn't take much to set me off thinking.
Pronunciation
So which version of Arabic do I learn? I think I have picked up another non-fusHa word without knowing it. The way I said the word in class was not the way the teacher said it, so I guess that is another from-the-heart-word which had popped out in non-fusHa and went into my mind just like that. Hmm, more layers of this and that.
No English
I decided I would only speak Arabic in the class, which I stuck to mostly. It surprised our teacher and was helpful. She really tried to understand what I was trying to convey. Sitting at the front always helps.
Wednesday, 21 January 2015
Cliff Yates - War
Cliff Yates' collection 'Bike, Rain'
The title is the most fitting one I have yet come across. It is simple, spare, unpretentious. It conveys exactly what Cliff Yates is about. Every time I turned a page it would be sitting there at the top of the new right hand page.
I have made all my notes on the pamphlet itself as I was reading through. That is a first. I now see where Cliff is coming from.
I did mark one or two places where I felt some lines should have been cut, but that is because I am so used to spouting my own views on Facebook poetry workshop groups. Having these thoughts is not sacrilegious, but a demonstration of the faith I have in the power of the poems and poets to cope with contrary opinions. I need to bang up against what others say and write. It is like giving a bannister a good shake before holding onto it and going up the stairs.
Go off and read it for yourself.
War
I am now in the second and middle section of George Roberts' collection. I need to find a new approach. My first one isn't working any more. Once I have found it I will be able to post a sensible set of comments. Reading Cliff Yates might be setting me off towards what I need to find. Let's see.
The title is the most fitting one I have yet come across. It is simple, spare, unpretentious. It conveys exactly what Cliff Yates is about. Every time I turned a page it would be sitting there at the top of the new right hand page.
I have made all my notes on the pamphlet itself as I was reading through. That is a first. I now see where Cliff is coming from.
I did mark one or two places where I felt some lines should have been cut, but that is because I am so used to spouting my own views on Facebook poetry workshop groups. Having these thoughts is not sacrilegious, but a demonstration of the faith I have in the power of the poems and poets to cope with contrary opinions. I need to bang up against what others say and write. It is like giving a bannister a good shake before holding onto it and going up the stairs.
Go off and read it for yourself.
War
I am now in the second and middle section of George Roberts' collection. I need to find a new approach. My first one isn't working any more. Once I have found it I will be able to post a sensible set of comments. Reading Cliff Yates might be setting me off towards what I need to find. Let's see.
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
Playing around with numbers and the words H knows
Sitting in the car, about to go into Sainsbury's.:
Ich werde Sainsbury's kaufen!
Ich werde ins Sainsbury's das (Shampoo), ein Hund, ein Brot und zwoelf Autos kaufen!
In the car on the way back:
Ich habe zwoelf Freunden, zwoelf Autos, zwoelf Haenden und zwoelf Fuessen!
On hearing that he won't take the shampoo out of the car with him...I have to do it...
Du bist siebzehn Jahre alt, aber Du bist ein Kind!
I am shocked, still as shocked as last time I wrote this, that we can say so much after such a short time. I seriously need someone funny and off the wall to sit in the car with me and say these sorts of things to me in Arabic. This is so frustrating. I try to shoehorn Arabic into my chats with H, but he spots it a mile away, though he did listen to me discussing how to say I love you in German and also in Arabic. That got through.
Ich werde Sainsbury's kaufen!
Ich werde ins Sainsbury's das (Shampoo), ein Hund, ein Brot und zwoelf Autos kaufen!
In the car on the way back:
Ich habe zwoelf Freunden, zwoelf Autos, zwoelf Haenden und zwoelf Fuessen!
On hearing that he won't take the shampoo out of the car with him...I have to do it...
Du bist siebzehn Jahre alt, aber Du bist ein Kind!
I am shocked, still as shocked as last time I wrote this, that we can say so much after such a short time. I seriously need someone funny and off the wall to sit in the car with me and say these sorts of things to me in Arabic. This is so frustrating. I try to shoehorn Arabic into my chats with H, but he spots it a mile away, though he did listen to me discussing how to say I love you in German and also in Arabic. That got through.
Monday, 19 January 2015
Forrester Bess - Icon - A34 crash
Forrester Bess
I don't usually do this. Just seeing the pictures in the article I am linking to has done some strange things to my mind. The pictures are so simple and intense. They remind me of times I spent at an art table maybe 10/12 years ago.
We would go over there and paint whatever needed to be painted. I recognise that need to put things down. Seeing the other man do his painting in his own world was helpful to see. We didn't have to talk to each other or do anything at all in fact. He put his paint right across big sheets of paper with a heavy roller.
I have had to do some writing after seeing these pictures briefly.
Icon
My aunt Caroline's things came to me yesterday, via my brother driving up with a car load. So now I have a small icon. Unreadable script. I shall have to google image various possible scripts to find out which one it is, then type it into google translate using the appropriate keyboard.
When a person is alive their things are around them. The person turns up at family parties and smokes. When they are dead they things arrive in my house, item by item. I can sit on their chair, stir my soup with their wooden spoon and look cautiously at an icon with its patterns of dots over the metal.
Massive crash
The A34 was shut southbound today because a car transporter went through the crash barrier and right onto the grass by a rising slope over beyond the far side of the other carriageway. It met a van as it went I hear.
We missed this by 15/20 minutes. Do I drive more slowly because of this? Keep my distance more? Pump up my tyres more often?
The people I was due to see this morning had been hoping I was ok. So these drives day after day cause anxiety to others. I can't do anything differently apart from moving house to Kidlington for the next 2 1/2 years. That might be healthier.
I don't usually do this. Just seeing the pictures in the article I am linking to has done some strange things to my mind. The pictures are so simple and intense. They remind me of times I spent at an art table maybe 10/12 years ago.
We would go over there and paint whatever needed to be painted. I recognise that need to put things down. Seeing the other man do his painting in his own world was helpful to see. We didn't have to talk to each other or do anything at all in fact. He put his paint right across big sheets of paper with a heavy roller.
I have had to do some writing after seeing these pictures briefly.
Icon
My aunt Caroline's things came to me yesterday, via my brother driving up with a car load. So now I have a small icon. Unreadable script. I shall have to google image various possible scripts to find out which one it is, then type it into google translate using the appropriate keyboard.
When a person is alive their things are around them. The person turns up at family parties and smokes. When they are dead they things arrive in my house, item by item. I can sit on their chair, stir my soup with their wooden spoon and look cautiously at an icon with its patterns of dots over the metal.
Massive crash
The A34 was shut southbound today because a car transporter went through the crash barrier and right onto the grass by a rising slope over beyond the far side of the other carriageway. It met a van as it went I hear.
We missed this by 15/20 minutes. Do I drive more slowly because of this? Keep my distance more? Pump up my tyres more often?
The people I was due to see this morning had been hoping I was ok. So these drives day after day cause anxiety to others. I can't do anything differently apart from moving house to Kidlington for the next 2 1/2 years. That might be healthier.
Sunday, 18 January 2015
Tidy desk - New Term - Shift
Tidy desk/Tidy mind
I once worked in an office with many other normal people, plus one man who got on with everyone, dressed very nicely, made the most money and had a tidy desk.
One day I went up to him and asked him how he did it. I wish I could remember his answer. Everyone listened in because he was such a hero, respected by us all.
He had a particularly unfortunate surname too, so maybe he'd had to learn very early on to overcome it with his good qualities.
Arabic Term Restart
New term/New clear desk. I have had to file all my other activities and just leave my homework on my desk. It feels good.
Boast: I use my complicated, but surprisingly accurate chart of verb forms, so see if a verb is indeed one of the 2 to 10 forms. I am amazed each time the meaning in the dictionary matches with the number on the chart.
I did find 2 typos in there a year ago, but didn't mark the surface with a biro, so they are uncorrected. The English letters don't match the tiny, faint Arabic accents in 2 places. That sort of thing bugs me. It should be 100% accurate.
Sudden Shift
Something has happened to me. A problem I have had since the age of 14 has left me. I noticed a week or two ago. I couldn't pin it to a particular day. I have tried for years to solve that problem, then it just goes all at once, in response to something over Christmas time. Miraculous events... But what on earth was the trigger for this change?
I once worked in an office with many other normal people, plus one man who got on with everyone, dressed very nicely, made the most money and had a tidy desk.
One day I went up to him and asked him how he did it. I wish I could remember his answer. Everyone listened in because he was such a hero, respected by us all.
He had a particularly unfortunate surname too, so maybe he'd had to learn very early on to overcome it with his good qualities.
Arabic Term Restart
New term/New clear desk. I have had to file all my other activities and just leave my homework on my desk. It feels good.
Boast: I use my complicated, but surprisingly accurate chart of verb forms, so see if a verb is indeed one of the 2 to 10 forms. I am amazed each time the meaning in the dictionary matches with the number on the chart.
I did find 2 typos in there a year ago, but didn't mark the surface with a biro, so they are uncorrected. The English letters don't match the tiny, faint Arabic accents in 2 places. That sort of thing bugs me. It should be 100% accurate.
Sudden Shift
Something has happened to me. A problem I have had since the age of 14 has left me. I noticed a week or two ago. I couldn't pin it to a particular day. I have tried for years to solve that problem, then it just goes all at once, in response to something over Christmas time. Miraculous events... But what on earth was the trigger for this change?
Kuck mal hier, ein neuer Blog zu lesen
Dieser Blog ist von meine neueste Freundin geschrieben. Ich moechste meine Deutsch verbessern, also Ich schreibe dieses Post auf Deutsch! Endingen, so schwer!
charlieundcarmen
I get the little red lines under words I get wrong, that's helpful. Endings, no easier this time around!
charlieundcarmen
I get the little red lines under words I get wrong, that's helpful. Endings, no easier this time around!
Friday, 16 January 2015
Submitting - Austin Powers - That Country - Penchant
Submitting
Wonderful piece about how to send off poems to magazines in a systematic way: by Jo Bell. Is this the piece which mentions soft returns and hard returns in Word documents? I got that wrong only last week, so make sure you learn to close up the gaps between lines.
Austin Powers movies
We decided to slowly write out the best bit of the first film, a speech given my Dr Evil on his childhood and on his father. Here is one line:
'Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy.'
That Country/The Holy Land
We started with the dating systems, the 3 religions, each emerging from the previous one.
H has asked me to explain what is going on there. What a mess! My history lesson has covered pretty much everything, but using non-historically correct words and wildly simplified. I am now thrilled because H has got a map open and after even spontaneously found Mecca in English and Arabic. Guess what? I asked him if it started from the right with a little bobble and he said yes. So I told him that was the letter 'mim', ie 'm'.
Now he is searching for Jaw Prison in Manama, because I asked him to, like looking for an Arabic name in an Arabic haystack he says, not finding it! Gosh, wonders never cease.
Proust/Penchant
H heard me say the word 'penchant' and once we agreed what it meant he said he'd read it but hadn't known it was pronounced like that.
I confessed to my awful moment with my Serbian grandmother when I was about 19. I mentioned Proust, but since no one in my family had ever used that name in my presence I assumed my way was correct. What a put down to be told the correct way, with no intro, just a deliberate 'Proust' spoken at me. She was the kindest person, so it wasn't nasty, just an instant correction.
Wonderful piece about how to send off poems to magazines in a systematic way: by Jo Bell. Is this the piece which mentions soft returns and hard returns in Word documents? I got that wrong only last week, so make sure you learn to close up the gaps between lines.
Austin Powers movies
We decided to slowly write out the best bit of the first film, a speech given my Dr Evil on his childhood and on his father. Here is one line:
'Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy.'
That Country/The Holy Land
We started with the dating systems, the 3 religions, each emerging from the previous one.
H has asked me to explain what is going on there. What a mess! My history lesson has covered pretty much everything, but using non-historically correct words and wildly simplified. I am now thrilled because H has got a map open and after even spontaneously found Mecca in English and Arabic. Guess what? I asked him if it started from the right with a little bobble and he said yes. So I told him that was the letter 'mim', ie 'm'.
Now he is searching for Jaw Prison in Manama, because I asked him to, like looking for an Arabic name in an Arabic haystack he says, not finding it! Gosh, wonders never cease.
Proust/Penchant
H heard me say the word 'penchant' and once we agreed what it meant he said he'd read it but hadn't known it was pronounced like that.
I confessed to my awful moment with my Serbian grandmother when I was about 19. I mentioned Proust, but since no one in my family had ever used that name in my presence I assumed my way was correct. What a put down to be told the correct way, with no intro, just a deliberate 'Proust' spoken at me. She was the kindest person, so it wasn't nasty, just an instant correction.
Thursday, 15 January 2015
The News Agents - Top of the Mountain interview - Published
The News Agents
Listen to Saturday afternoon's 1 hour radio show on Resonance fm presented by Jude Montague and others: http://www.mixcloud.com/Resonance/143000-the-news-agents-320kbps/
Interview on top of a mountain in America
El Habib Louai being interviewed in a high place, see the photographs in this post which has the links to the 3 parts of the interview about his life and poetry.
Published
First, in iamnotasilentpoet, edited by Reuben Woolley, 2 poems.
And now in The Stare's Nest, edited by Judi Sutherland, also 2 poems, different ones of course.
Listen to Saturday afternoon's 1 hour radio show on Resonance fm presented by Jude Montague and others: http://www.mixcloud.com/Resonance/143000-the-news-agents-320kbps/
Interview on top of a mountain in America
El Habib Louai being interviewed in a high place, see the photographs in this post which has the links to the 3 parts of the interview about his life and poetry.
Published
First, in iamnotasilentpoet, edited by Reuben Woolley, 2 poems.
And now in The Stare's Nest, edited by Judi Sutherland, also 2 poems, different ones of course.
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
My son's truly lovely photos from years ago
Have a browse. His comments are so lovely too. Proud, proud mother.
See how my name and initials are mixed in. That is from when I was somewhat involved with my son's online activities. My YouTube account is still stuffed with gaming links from my time sharing it with H.
See how my name and initials are mixed in. That is from when I was somewhat involved with my son's online activities. My YouTube account is still stuffed with gaming links from my time sharing it with H.
Tuesday, 13 January 2015
Book of Songs - Map - Car - Resolution
Book of Songs
This piece by Michael Murray brings out many small parts of the Kanteletar, a Finnish collection which follows a saga called the Kalevala, which my book group looked at 16 1/2 years ago, when H was in his little baby car seat near me on the floor. I loved the repetitions of that book.
He shows the pieces so carefully. I am taken into the exact thoughts I have been having about who goes where in a family, who goes into what household, who looks after whom, how does it all work? As time passes why do people change, what is really going on?
Living next to my mother in law since 1999, I have very gradually seen how her ways have become my ways. I did not set out to become like her. I meant to reproduce the best elements of my own family, but as with all things to do with having a family, it all falls by the wayside sooner or later. Silently or loudly and ungracefully.
I now see that the things she does with her son are things I now do with my sons. I am getting scared of my own self. Where am I? Does my own family background exist at all? What was that place I came from with our sense of humour and familiar way of talking with each other? How is it that I have been so unable to recreate what I came from?
The past is another country and all that. I insist on my pronunciation of words and on the allocation of coat pegs to different people. My kingdom is deciding the location of the bleach and the knives and forks. I can't tell whether I am some little mouse or a terrible fiend who must be skirted round with crossed fingers. A bit of both? A calm adult would be the ideal.
Map on my table cloth
I spent some time choosing items to represent my parents, brother, myself and this family here in the house. After a bit I tried removing different individuals to see what would happen, putting them back each time. I chose some new people to join the group, that was an eye opener. Why did this person stand there as a white candle on a metal base and that person turn up as a bb pellet cartridge? Another emerged as an empty sweet wrapper! There were even 2 striped candy canes who attached themselves to one person. Hmm.
After that I wrote some poetry lines, not surprising after the imaginative adventure I had had during munch, I mena lunch, ...mean lunch. Typos!
Car journeys
H and I talked about the umlaut today, then had a go at chatting in Arabic. Hit me with your best sentence he said. al qahira, hiya madinat fil misr. Cairo is a city in Egypt. Then I went on to I live in xyz, you live in the house, she lives in the small house and we are in the house. Verbs, and in the imperfect tense. Ahlan foxed him, it's hallo, but the engine noise put him off. Ahlan wa sahlan, more hallos, got lost as we went round a bend.
He knows al qahira and al qahida, so I am proud of him. I have repeated endlessly that every single Arabic word in English is incorrectly pronounced. And he has repeated back to me that it's the same for every language, which took the wind out of my sails, but is right of course. I am a tree trunk for him to strop his reason upon.
New Year's Resolution
To not interrupt. It means looking carefully at the person for a long time until they have completed their thoughts. It works.
My other one is to write clearly and concisely. I haven't started yet.
This piece by Michael Murray brings out many small parts of the Kanteletar, a Finnish collection which follows a saga called the Kalevala, which my book group looked at 16 1/2 years ago, when H was in his little baby car seat near me on the floor. I loved the repetitions of that book.
He shows the pieces so carefully. I am taken into the exact thoughts I have been having about who goes where in a family, who goes into what household, who looks after whom, how does it all work? As time passes why do people change, what is really going on?
Living next to my mother in law since 1999, I have very gradually seen how her ways have become my ways. I did not set out to become like her. I meant to reproduce the best elements of my own family, but as with all things to do with having a family, it all falls by the wayside sooner or later. Silently or loudly and ungracefully.
I now see that the things she does with her son are things I now do with my sons. I am getting scared of my own self. Where am I? Does my own family background exist at all? What was that place I came from with our sense of humour and familiar way of talking with each other? How is it that I have been so unable to recreate what I came from?
The past is another country and all that. I insist on my pronunciation of words and on the allocation of coat pegs to different people. My kingdom is deciding the location of the bleach and the knives and forks. I can't tell whether I am some little mouse or a terrible fiend who must be skirted round with crossed fingers. A bit of both? A calm adult would be the ideal.
Map on my table cloth
I spent some time choosing items to represent my parents, brother, myself and this family here in the house. After a bit I tried removing different individuals to see what would happen, putting them back each time. I chose some new people to join the group, that was an eye opener. Why did this person stand there as a white candle on a metal base and that person turn up as a bb pellet cartridge? Another emerged as an empty sweet wrapper! There were even 2 striped candy canes who attached themselves to one person. Hmm.
After that I wrote some poetry lines, not surprising after the imaginative adventure I had had during munch, I mena lunch, ...mean lunch. Typos!
Car journeys
H and I talked about the umlaut today, then had a go at chatting in Arabic. Hit me with your best sentence he said. al qahira, hiya madinat fil misr. Cairo is a city in Egypt. Then I went on to I live in xyz, you live in the house, she lives in the small house and we are in the house. Verbs, and in the imperfect tense. Ahlan foxed him, it's hallo, but the engine noise put him off. Ahlan wa sahlan, more hallos, got lost as we went round a bend.
He knows al qahira and al qahida, so I am proud of him. I have repeated endlessly that every single Arabic word in English is incorrectly pronounced. And he has repeated back to me that it's the same for every language, which took the wind out of my sails, but is right of course. I am a tree trunk for him to strop his reason upon.
New Year's Resolution
To not interrupt. It means looking carefully at the person for a long time until they have completed their thoughts. It works.
My other one is to write clearly and concisely. I haven't started yet.
Monday, 12 January 2015
Post-Home Ed continues in the car
We have sorted out 2 things. My bio for a poetry blog and my thoughts about the Charlie Hebdo shootings in Paris.
Bio
Sarah loves going to readings and absolutely adores all the chat afterwards. She blogs at (here).
Charlie Hebdo
It is about 3 things.
1 What counts as a crime in each country and what counts as the various levels of crime? This shifts.
2 What kind of punishments do we agree are given and what limits do we have to the punishments we impose? This shifts with time.
3 The relationship between the 2 concepts, what punishment is allocated to what crime? This shifts over time too.
So here we do not have capital punishment, however we do have unintentional killings by armed police at the time of the crime or afterwards. We also have unexplained deaths in police custody. Those are not actions I have ever voted for. They need to be reduced to zero.
Does the permission to behave in ways which are offensive degrade the whole culture? Of course. But how to limit jokes in bad taste and the casual cruelties of communal life? Do they act as lightning conductors to release tension and prevent something worse, or do we collectively think we can't handle the responsibility of improving our communal life and throw up our hands at that point?
Is it better overall to know that we do not have the death penalty and are able to react as a community relatively calmly to very bad behaviour? I suppose I agree with that. It holds up a standard of calmness and professionalism for me to aspire to.
Bio
Sarah loves going to readings and absolutely adores all the chat afterwards. She blogs at (here).
Charlie Hebdo
It is about 3 things.
1 What counts as a crime in each country and what counts as the various levels of crime? This shifts.
2 What kind of punishments do we agree are given and what limits do we have to the punishments we impose? This shifts with time.
3 The relationship between the 2 concepts, what punishment is allocated to what crime? This shifts over time too.
So here we do not have capital punishment, however we do have unintentional killings by armed police at the time of the crime or afterwards. We also have unexplained deaths in police custody. Those are not actions I have ever voted for. They need to be reduced to zero.
Does the permission to behave in ways which are offensive degrade the whole culture? Of course. But how to limit jokes in bad taste and the casual cruelties of communal life? Do they act as lightning conductors to release tension and prevent something worse, or do we collectively think we can't handle the responsibility of improving our communal life and throw up our hands at that point?
Is it better overall to know that we do not have the death penalty and are able to react as a community relatively calmly to very bad behaviour? I suppose I agree with that. It holds up a standard of calmness and professionalism for me to aspire to.
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Samuel Shimon - An Iraqi In Paris
His parallel world while I was in Paris at the same time, 1985/6. All those bars and relationships, the opposite of my life. No studying or art galleries, the opposite of my life too. No family, while I had 2 great aunts, plus all their children and grandchildren.
He struggles with French, while it was totally familiar to me. No clear place to live, while I had a family studio apartment. How did he get there? In contrast I had been driven over by my father and mother. We went even went shopping and I was bought a bed and a desk/table from Ikea.
I had a balcony with lanes of highway to look at, plus the reassuring noises of starting and stopping since the traffic lights were right there. My grandmother came to visit from London and had made me some curtains! I had a hallway with hooks I had bought and hung with nails and my own hammer. That was wonderful.
He had a passion and a vision, while I had none. He had the freedom to not be good. His life was open ended, mine would finish in July.
Apart from all that our Paris was identical. The same pavements, baguettes, metro, streets, places, smell, weather.
There is no sense of direction in the book, one story follows another. I just accept it all as it comes along. Much like this blog.. So I can't complain about the lack of a plot! I can't think of anything perceptive to write. I read these books in the expectation that the general attitudes and assumptions will seep into me over time. So I am gaining familiarity, but without needing any formal analysis.
Let's add this contemporary link to an interview he gave recently.
He struggles with French, while it was totally familiar to me. No clear place to live, while I had a family studio apartment. How did he get there? In contrast I had been driven over by my father and mother. We went even went shopping and I was bought a bed and a desk/table from Ikea.
I had a balcony with lanes of highway to look at, plus the reassuring noises of starting and stopping since the traffic lights were right there. My grandmother came to visit from London and had made me some curtains! I had a hallway with hooks I had bought and hung with nails and my own hammer. That was wonderful.
He had a passion and a vision, while I had none. He had the freedom to not be good. His life was open ended, mine would finish in July.
Apart from all that our Paris was identical. The same pavements, baguettes, metro, streets, places, smell, weather.
There is no sense of direction in the book, one story follows another. I just accept it all as it comes along. Much like this blog.. So I can't complain about the lack of a plot! I can't think of anything perceptive to write. I read these books in the expectation that the general attitudes and assumptions will seep into me over time. So I am gaining familiarity, but without needing any formal analysis.
Let's add this contemporary link to an interview he gave recently.
Friday, 9 January 2015
George Roberts - When Life Looks Like Easy Street - part 1/3
I am writing some notes on this collection of poems. There are 3 parts to the book, so I have read the first section and am writing these notes without knowing what comes next. I like that uncertainty.
Part 1 - Nature
I know George is a performance poet. He recited a couple of his things to me in a loud cafe, but that isn't the same, I know, as speaking forth across into a filled room, standing up there in front of everyone. So reading poems by myself is a different proposition again.
Are these poems which he usually speaks forth, at the Oxford Hammer and Tongue nights or where ever it is something exciting happens every 2 weeks down the Cowley Road? Or are these poems from another side of his life, ones which couldn't be thrown across a room and need a quiet page to themselves and the special loose binding which Albion Press, ie Dennis Harrison, has given them, via Lucie Forejtova of Immaginacija?
It took me until 'Creation Myth' to find myself. Until then I was lost. At the end of 'When I Am' I wrote 'I feel lost still'.
Finding myself didn't mean I was happy. I pondered the as yet unsolved question of procreation. Why is it so full of prohibitions? Why does the rest of the living world just go to it while we humans are constantly told not to or tell ourselves not to for fear of poverty, educational disaster, moral disaster, physical exhaustion, physical disability...you name it, it all adds up to a no. I'd rather not see my children killed, starve, be bullied by a horrible father or educational system obviously, but the result of that is a loveless sterile life, which stinks. What is this all about?
I loved the phrase 'she purred them on' because it feels as if a powerful beast is protecting and permitting the couple to be together. She won't let anyone attack them or disturb them.
So who is Jay Griffiths and what is 'Wild' from which so many quotations are taken? Whose book is this? George's or Jay's. Am I a bad person for asking?
'The Day I Stopped Taking the Happy Pills' has a certainty about it I love. Here's the final stanza:
'The day I stopped taking the happy pills
my hunger ate me, my sorrow cried me,
my faith believed me, my light shone me,
my love loved me and I loved me back.'
'What I Learned in the Closing of The Year' is so hopeful, yet fragile. Glorious, delicate confusion in front of the wonder of local real kindness. Am I putting in too many words here?
'Teaching Observation' pleased me because it mixed the time consuming process of going through a mathematical equation with something else entirely.
'The Dark Companion' is my favourite at the moment because of the intimacy with the way things can be. Escaping it only means being able to see it and sense it rather than being under water with it. 'He is near me again.' That is such a plain sentence. I love that.
'A Blues for Nenna Nyama (d. 8th July 1986)' makes me realise how little I know of what it is to be from the different parts of America and its society. How big it is, how ungraspable compared to our little space, with small rocks and nearby coasts, Even our moors and wildernesses are small. Just 3 legal systems, not 52.
It suddenly opens up at the line 'This is too civilised', though the rhyming has emerged a bit before. If I were to let myself write all over the pages I could follow the structure much more closely. This is where the neatness of the book stops my thinking. I am not yet able to break into it with my biro. If I were to photocopy each page that would help. I do that with poems I have been given by other people to comment on prior to submission for publication.
That's not entirely true, I have given in and numbered the pages.
'Allotment Fox' - poetry itself, shouting in the night for a partner, the essential listeners/readers, but each one alone for a while to consider the writer's call. Look at this post: a-genuine-stink-of-poets-own-fox
I look forward to parts 2 and 3.
Thursday, 8 January 2015
Drift, again - Penguin - Bellingcat/Brown Moses
Drift: It took me until the end of the book to understand what was going on. I was lost in the language and in the format for much of the time. Then I was lost in the images. I had to let go and just see what would happen next.
One section was too much. I jumped over it. Once I had completed my journey/reading, I went back and read that section backwards from the end, small paragraph by small paragraph. My method for dealing with distressing text. I prefer to know the outcome and want to avoid being frightened and pinned down by the author over many tension filled pages.
Spoiler alert: I will put my other comment down below so you can come to this in your own time.
H is getting practice at filling hot water bottles. He accused me of over-filling the kettle because the hot water bottle now looks like a penguin who has eaten and drunk too much and is lying on its back trying not to move. I murmur that you don't have to pour every last drop into the thing. If I pat it too hard it might burst.
New Blog: Bellingcat set up by Brown Moses, who is/was active on Twitter identifying true locations and exact make of shells in Syria
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This should be far enough down the page. There is an astounding arrival of love in the book, just like that, between the end of one paragraph to the start of the next. If that has ever happened to you, you will get it instantly. Wow. I won't type it out, go and find it for yourself.
One section was too much. I jumped over it. Once I had completed my journey/reading, I went back and read that section backwards from the end, small paragraph by small paragraph. My method for dealing with distressing text. I prefer to know the outcome and want to avoid being frightened and pinned down by the author over many tension filled pages.
Spoiler alert: I will put my other comment down below so you can come to this in your own time.
H is getting practice at filling hot water bottles. He accused me of over-filling the kettle because the hot water bottle now looks like a penguin who has eaten and drunk too much and is lying on its back trying not to move. I murmur that you don't have to pour every last drop into the thing. If I pat it too hard it might burst.
New Blog: Bellingcat set up by Brown Moses, who is/was active on Twitter identifying true locations and exact make of shells in Syria
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
This should be far enough down the page. There is an astounding arrival of love in the book, just like that, between the end of one paragraph to the start of the next. If that has ever happened to you, you will get it instantly. Wow. I won't type it out, go and find it for yourself.
Tuesday, 6 January 2015
Yes, I have something - 1.5 films
Yes, I have something to send you
You know when you read something a person has written and it makes you nearly cry. This person has spoken directly to me. I just put my head back and thought of something I'd like to send him. Because he might, just might want to hear what I put in it, in spite of the fact that it is a formal competition. Am I being stupidly naive?
Or is this one of those conversations I have with strangers sitting somewhere unexpected and where I never meet them again, just that one talk is what happens? No snippets of background information or I live in x village and my husband does y and I am 'at home' and it's really like 'this'. Just forget all that and share bits of this and that.
In any case I want to read his words. I don't care about anything else. http://www.johnsiddique.co.uk/
Part of me says, never pay, but another part says, it's ok to put a bit of money into the poetry world, it's like paying fines at the library, a necessary financial support.
1.5 films this evening
0.5 of Zaytoun and 1.0 of Nixon/Frost. It's emotional being so available to films, not knowing where they will take me, or what memories they will stir in me. When I was younger I didn't see my life in films at all. Why was that? Maybe I wasn't joining the dots? Maybe I was so busy fighting and resisting what they were showing and saying, unable to be myself and therefore unable to let them be themselves?
Zaytoun led me to wonder at the gulf between the many people who have lost one or both parents and people like me who have both. I am glad to be a baby, relative to those who have experienced this new unending state of affairs.
Frost/Nixon led me to think of my family because the actor playing Nixon has my father's mouth and one of my great uncle's brown eyes. I thought of moral issues too, but don't want to go there here.
You know when you read something a person has written and it makes you nearly cry. This person has spoken directly to me. I just put my head back and thought of something I'd like to send him. Because he might, just might want to hear what I put in it, in spite of the fact that it is a formal competition. Am I being stupidly naive?
Or is this one of those conversations I have with strangers sitting somewhere unexpected and where I never meet them again, just that one talk is what happens? No snippets of background information or I live in x village and my husband does y and I am 'at home' and it's really like 'this'. Just forget all that and share bits of this and that.
In any case I want to read his words. I don't care about anything else. http://www.johnsiddique.co.uk/
Part of me says, never pay, but another part says, it's ok to put a bit of money into the poetry world, it's like paying fines at the library, a necessary financial support.
1.5 films this evening
0.5 of Zaytoun and 1.0 of Nixon/Frost. It's emotional being so available to films, not knowing where they will take me, or what memories they will stir in me. When I was younger I didn't see my life in films at all. Why was that? Maybe I wasn't joining the dots? Maybe I was so busy fighting and resisting what they were showing and saying, unable to be myself and therefore unable to let them be themselves?
Zaytoun led me to wonder at the gulf between the many people who have lost one or both parents and people like me who have both. I am glad to be a baby, relative to those who have experienced this new unending state of affairs.
Frost/Nixon led me to think of my family because the actor playing Nixon has my father's mouth and one of my great uncle's brown eyes. I thought of moral issues too, but don't want to go there here.
Sunday, 4 January 2015
Happy New Year - I can't resist this quotation - Hoa Nguyen
Yes, here's a huge picture including fire. I can't decide whether to send an email to my entire address book, so this is a lot easier:
...
The last section of this paragraph made me chuckle, my bolding:
...
The last section of this paragraph made me chuckle, my bolding:
Anyway, yes, I've had people say that they didn't understand my works, especially my earlier ones where I was submerging the narrative. And I've had people, like my sister, say that they understood the same poems differently (better) when they heard me read them. Once, at a small gathering of friends, my mother read my poems with me. The poet Linh Dinh had translated several into Vietnamese (and I can't express how much that means to me). So she read them in Vietnamese and then I read them in English. Afterwards someone asked her what she thought and she said "I have no idea what she is saying." To which I just laughed. Sometimes I don't know what I "mean," too. But I don't think you need to hit people over the head with content and meaning. Whenever I encounter that in poetry, I feel pandered to, manipulated and/or bored.
So, goodbye content and meaning.
The full interview is at Bookslut from 2008.
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