Tuesday 28 September 2010

The Other Week...Nottingham Shindig

Our Poetry travels take us slightly north again in this blog entry. On Sunday 19th September popped up to the Jam cafe in Hockley to the Nine Arches Shindig to hear Wayne Burrows, Eireann Lorsung, Simon Turner and Matt Nunn as well as the very rich tapestry which is the Open Mic. There were some superb readings and all four main readers were very good and very varied in terms of style. I had wanted to hear Eireann's poetry for a long time and there's something rather spellbinding about her poetry, Wayne Burrows delved into the secret history of Nottingham in his poetry. I loved the poem about medlar fruit, yes, you really do eat them when they begin to rot.  I've got to know Simon Turner's poetry better over the months and one poem really grabbed me, The Ruined Chapel, which can be found here at Hand + Star:

http://www.handandstar.co.uk/?p=144

I really admired the unsettling and fascinating imagery in this poem. Matt Nunn stepped in for Roz Goddard and gave us a wonderful perfomance. I noticed that many of the audience were popping over to the table of purchasable poetry delights to have a look at his collection afterwards.

So a good night was had by all - right better go, motherhood duties call. I've been multi-tasking whilst writing this you know!

Thursday 9 September 2010

Filmic and Versified Events

On the first Sunday of every month, 'Rhymes and Wine' organised by Deborah Tyler-Bennett, is held in 'The Swan in the Rushes' in Loughborough. Every first Sunday of the month I dutifully pop along and the one last Sunday was great.

On Tuesday I performed at WORD! in Leicester. It was a special event to promote the film issue of Staple and also featured, as ever, the mighty Open Mic. I was fortunate enough to have a poem selected by the organisers which I performed with a film backdrop. The poem was called 'The Carnival of Souls' and was based on the early sixties horror film of the same name. The film itself is something of a cult amongst film fans; a low budget horror which had lain virtually ignored until it was revived in the late 80s. I watched it years ago as a teenager, one unfestive Christmas Eve, a late night BBC 2 thing, and it stuck in my memory. I performed alongside Lydia Towsey, Jayne Stanton and Pam Thompson. Everyone worked really well together and the whole event had a very sparky atmosphere. During a moment of 'technical difficulty' Lydia was a consummate professional who did one of the funniest and entertaining fill-ins. The films had been produced by Keith Allot and it took place at the Phoenix Cinema in Leicester. The poems will be appearing in Staple.

The open mic was wonderful and is always the highlight as much as the headline act - eclectic and democratic - with a very supportive audience. There are normally 40 or 50 people at WORD! and the other night I think there were even more. Need I say this is a very impressive turnout.

OK, that's two whole nights out! Crikey, after two weeks hol time to back to the writing itself.

Saturday 4 September 2010

The weather and work

Well I'm very chuffed to have six followers! This has renewed my passion for blogging. Honestly, thanks! Currently I'm all askew; have just returned from my travels abroad. When I say 'travels' I also mean a fair amount of time trying to lie still and catch some relief from an air-conditioned breeze.  It was over 40 degrees in Cyprus, last night at 3am on the way to the airport the car read 25.5, which is actually the coolest it had been. A lot of conversation with relatives also hinged on weather details and warnings about heat.

I was determined to try a bit of writing and dutifully pulled out a biro whenever I could, but I couldn't - I was too hot. I managed to keep up with my diary, but that's different, it was between me and the page, but the stuff which needed thought and care, not easy. Plus the twins weren't having any of it, the heat had made them a little feral and rather than napping they were whooping and screaming around my parents' house at the 'siesta' time of the day. The only suitable time turned out to be late night which meant managing a line and then collapising into lots of zzzzs. In such heat you are only made for diving into water. So the only conclusion I could draw was life in colder climate might be more conducive to any form of writing, so the next time you feel hard done by the rain, be grateful.