Cold Summer.
Cold summer, you have diverted from task,
Brisk winds, leaves ones face aghast.
For no sun shines on the forsaken isles,
As one looks out, o’er rain soaked miles.
Change.
I have neglected you all.
My writing. My friends. Family. Secret admirers.
You see – in August 2010 I woke up one morning and it was overcast and grey. Mild but dull nonetheless. Work was fine, I had not long received a promotion. But with promotion comes responsibility. And I needed a break. So I packed up my car, turned off my laptop, put the Blackberry in a drawer and drove from my driveway to the south of France.
And I haven’t looked back. I walked on isolated beaches of which no Trip Advisor review could ever exist. I precariously parked my car on sand dunes. I ate fresh bread and cheese as a staple. Cheap wine by the bottle. And I felt super for it.
And though I wanted to share this with everyone six months ago – I have reflected that this personal adventure was pure, indescribable fun. I could not tell you how as words fail me. But having no objectives for any given day, no destination – it was truly liberating – and I am not one to take notice of such concepts generally.
I had been working tirelessly on a new anthology of sorts and was keen to release it. This has been all but done for a while – but what is the rush? But still I must apologise. For those of you who have emailed: Thank you for your often inquisitive words. For those that didn’t but wondered where on earth I was – I’m sorry, I was busy doing absolutely nothing other than living.
I will continue to write – I feel a novel coming on. But that feeling usually goes away when I make time to write it. I have started shooting photos again – going back to my teenage published roots. Though I am refusing to apply pressure to myself on achieving every perfect angle these days. And the poetry will come. Some through an anthology and I have no doubt that in time I will put fresh verse onto this blog.
And what of the future? I am heading eastwards. Destination unknown.
Critical and constructive?
When I was younger my father was the editor of a small regional magazine. It ran for twenty four issues with a circulation of around five hundred and this meant he spent more time with his early 90′s Amiga computer than my mother. But this in the grand scheme of this article, unfortunately, is largely irrelevant.
I used to enjoy going with him to the Post Office Box to collect contributions and submissions that were received between issues. He always used to grumble when there were less than normal as this meant he had to write more, but he made the point of telling me from an early age that people only write when they’ve got something to moan about.
And this, as it happens, has turned out to be so incredibly accurate. Just think of the amount of times recently that you have sat down for the sole purpose of exploring your own creativity. I like to think that I can use this blog as an outlet, but even so, the vast majority of my creative exploits are questionable in terms of whether I even intended on creating them in the first place!
I have come to the conclusion that it is almost a matter of provocation for people to write nowadays. There must be a clear cause or benefit attached to their work, or by expressing themselves. By this I refer to complaint letters, blog comments or criticism that does little to analyse the work of somebody, but serves as almost an attack on their doing it in the first place. And the concerning factor for myself is that you don’t have to look far to find it.
My gripe is not with criticism that highlights the shortcomings of an argument put forward, or which enlightens the writer to a different perspective that they have not considered. My annoyance level is frequently raised whilst I am casually browsing sites, and then start thinking about adding my own comments and criticism to what I’ve seen – often – I’m left bemused by the comments left by other readers. It actually amazes me that some people, who are possibly talented in their own right, will go out of their way to find fault or complaint with another’s work.
I see it this way: It is as though these individuals skip over from “analysis mode” immediately – and look to criticise from the outset. Surely it is like walking into a library, locating your least enjoyable subject aisle, leafing the pages of the books and adding pointless narrative to the notes pages at the back.
At this point I feel I must clarify my position. I wholeheartedly believe that feedback is the key to ones improvement, particularly in the sphere of writing in any form. After all, readers are the consumer, and if they don’t like what you’re producing and you also ignore their opinion – a career change may well be advisable. However, I do wonder how many good writers are swamped by poorly critiqued work. I wonder how many of them (or indeed *us?*) are strong enough to determine quite what to take from most of it.
And I say this because often ones work has not had the eye of an esteemed professor cast over it. A published author is unlikely to have dropped by to offer their expert advice. I am sure you see where I am going with this, so I shall not labour the point further.
Therefore: I invite you, the next time that you read a really good piece of writing somewhere online, to make sure you do add your views at the bottom. It need not be “high-brow” intellectual stimulation for the recipient, just an acknowledgement that you like what they’ve done or if something might be better another way will do. No doubt your words will be sandwiched between moaners and whiners, people who want to sell their wares and advertise their own work, but your worthy comment will reach the author and probably make their day.
I know when I get a bit of feedback, no matter how small, even if I don’t necessarily agree with it, it’s fantastic to have had your work appreciated, acknowledged and constructively criticised.
And my father was correct; writing is so much more easier when you have something to complain about!!
Lazy Days
Sunday need not be your only day
To relax, chill out and lie amongst hay,
For summer delivers such ample chance,
To procrastinate, dwell, no need to finance.
Because freedom is free, it costs not a bean
Until you wake up one day and you’re just a has been.
Go outside, browse and read.
I had a fantastic experience this week that I must share.
You see, I went outside into the real world. And I discovered that it’s great.
This week I had a free day. For the first time in a long time I had no plans. No work, no pressing engagements and everyone I know and care about was at work. I was as free as my time. I wandered to my local town, a place I visit to do the monotonous essentials that life entails; banking, food shopping and haircuts. I never have time or reason to visit shops that interest me.
So it was with great pleasure that I spent literally an entire morning in book shops. I leafed the newly released, browsed the aisles I would otherwise ignore [Crime] and took the time to pick up volumes randomly. I would go as far as to say it was liberating. For at least two hours I was the person you see sitting on that one leather chair they place amongst the shelving, I was the customer the staff eye and mutter “this is not a library” under their breath. And it was fantastic.
Holding a book in your hands that you have craved and waited for is a really nice feeling. I get a great urge to hurry through the pages so that I can almost win a race with my own excitedness. But I was faced with brand new emotions during this trip. As to stumble across a book that you might otherwise never have considered, merely because ordinarily, you do not have the time with which to choose it, presented a whole new level of intrigue and excitement. I am still pondering whether it is sad that this such basic a feeling should have taken me so long to appreciate or indeed discover at all.
It is a pretty common given that modern life is rushed and conducted at a fast pace. We are rushed by others, but we also needlessly hurry ourselves. I discovered the other day that I no longer considered taking a little time to select a book quite so valuable in my life. Apparently, getting home a little more expediently after receiving my haircut was more important to me in life these days. Though, as it transpired, those extra few minutes reading the opening pages of literature I might never have even previously acknowledged existed made my day all the more pleasant, and my purchase ultimately all the more worthwhile.
I am obviously not the first person to say “go outside” and “experience life”. What I do know is that I would accept and agree that this was correct, but then do nothing to correct this imbalance. By doing something out of routine and without following my normal behavioural patterns (if that is correct), I experienced a little more in my life.
So from now on I will be acting differently. People will think that I’m out of character. They will question why. But I will be happy, amongst a growing pile of books, that I haven’t yet discovered.
South Africa
Host your games of joy and folly
But as an onlooker I must feel so sorry.
With expensive stadiums built to impress
Children look upward their faces distressed.
These new stadiums may well gleam and shine
But poverty reigns, and your people are crying.
Lost Terror
I search my soul for voice and reason,
A conscience worries at risk of treason.
As affiliation to here is not what I feel,
To the rolling pastures and lush green fields.
Stifled Creativity
I have found lately that by not looking for a way of doing something actually helps my creativity.
What do I mean by this?
Take any subject and it can be Googled to death. You will soon discover that what you are looking to do is buried in standards and ways of doing something in a certain way.
Poetry is a good example of this. Acceptable formats are drilled into children from an early age. As a result poetry is dying on its feet. Why? Because it is in the main dull; sinfully dull. Weighed down in right and wrong. Who enforces these rules? And for what purpose? I love writing poetry, but I’ve never bought any. I never chat to even my closest friends about it because they associate it with all that is wrong with how we express ourselves. Structure is great for railway timetables, space shuttle launches and Germany, but with ones creativity and inventiveness? Please.
Think of all the things that you have been put off doing by someone, who is no more qualified or better at doing it than you. There are too many faux “teachers” and plenty of those who want to “do” but are put off by needless stifling.
Creativity and innovation just won’t happen in a world that listens to those who organise everything into neat drawers that are alphanumerical and colour co-ordinated. And this is not a particularly radical notion. It is merely about delivering what you intended to deliver through your work, rather than conforming it to barriers that exist for no determinable reason.
A poem will not make sense to everyone. A photograph need not be perfectly cropped. A symphony can be unfinished.
This is not to say that chaos should rule, but a lifting of unjustifiable, even mythical rules in the work that you do will unleash a lot of inner creativity. So I invite you to do your thing without keeping it inside an applicable, often mental, set of rules.
Why is this relevant?
I have fun writing now. Before I was looking over my shoulder at the punctuation police. Tutting when a red line told me that my English-English was not correct American-English. These things shouldn’t distract you or change your style. I certainly won’t be paying any attention to them.
Summer Rain
Trickles, runs and washes away,
Water gushes in frequent foray,
Clearing the air with which we breathe,
Humid and muggy it does relieve.
This is summer in England you see,
Picnics spoilt regularly,
But green and lush the landscape grows,
Making up for these liquid woes.
Coat, scarf and umbrella,
Makes one long for Marbella.
But smile you will when the clouds do part,
Apply the sunscreen before the rain does start.
New Beginnings
I love to write.
Words can do so much. They can bring laughter, sadness, power and surprise.
They can empower, oppress and distress.
And is there anything more satisfying than reading something for the first time and really connecting with its meaning?
I hope you enjoy reading what I have to say and can take something from it.
Thim.
