Poetry, yarn, books.

This weekend I’ll be going along to new poetry events in my locale. They have suddenly appeared! I’ll write about them after I have been.

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I decided to play with a short story and turn it in to a poem. The purple yarn is waiting for a new project as soon as the old one has been completed.

Reading – there is plenty of it. A revisit of The Bell Jar just now.

Summer is reluctant so far. The morning is dark already. The sun has been kidnapped again. Just as well I’m not growing beans and peas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Between Me and Art – Part Two

Grammar school – and two art classrooms. I took up O Level Art later than my other ones. My work was a mix of still life and surreal. I liked this combination. I liked pastels, charcoal, acrylic and poster paint and ink.

My art teachers liked my work. One art teacher gave me materials. He knew we were hard up. I still have the end bits of those pastels and paints. The class was dominated by girls, some boys. The girls were mostly middle class – producing album cover art for bands they liked, mostly prog rock.

I was indie/punk. The others didn’t get my work. The teachers did. I worked from my feelings.

My mother taught me to knit. Everything and anything you could wear – jumpers, cardies, socks, footsies, gloves, hats. We did a lot of it. I wore a lot of hand-knits. I got in to mohair – it worked well with the punk image. I am also allergic to lanolin!

This phase saw a lot of making and a step in to sewing – clothes and soft furnishings. Again I was taught by those around me.

School finished and I decided I wanted to get a job. And off I went to the tax office sandwiched between Salts Mill and Jerome’s Mill. Both mills redundant by then. A working life in textiles wasn’t going to be our future.

 

Image    Salts Diner

Saorsa is the future

I have spent the morning working on the WIP. I have decided to give it a deadline for submission regardless of its state by then! It won’t be perfect, but more about the subject of perfection and spirituality  in my next blog and about artists I have worked with.

There has also been a short story created from a recurring life-long dream. It’s dark, but there is saorsa there too.

Lists, I have many now to work through over the coming months as the zeal for making and doing has returned.

Last year seemed like the penultimate bad year, especially where people are concerned. There are people I no longer want in my life as their presence is clearly of no benefit to me and mine and has often been detrimental. But we rise above them and discard them. In order to live let live, as Gilbhran said. We are moving on, and they no doubt, will be pleased about that too.

My next few blogs will be dedicated to the artists, musicians and writers I have had the pleasure to meet and work with in recent years. They are mostly peasant, traveller, working class, disabled, gay and  women. Erudite, hard working crafts people who have at times been cast outwith the world of arts snobbery, but have still made a good name for themselves as professional artists, community people and volunteers. It is through them that it is possible to understand the meaning of community -whether that is in geography or mind.

Knitting projects – I am taking some on this year. If there’s one craft I can still claim to be competent in it is this one. I have made many sacrifices over the decades, like many women, and not always been kind to my own artistic self-expression. My writing has suffered the most. Music will always be there, but whilst my hands and eyes still work, I will knit. Painting might happen, again.

My love of the arts came from my folks and the communities I grew up and lived in, the small ones and the bigger one. But more about all that in the coming months. It takes time to reveal and share stories.

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