Laughing In the Face of Apathy

Sunday 10th June 2012

Laughing In the Face of Apathy

Available only in the collection "So Much for the Sunshine" published by Talking Pen 2013

Monday 11th June 2012

Didn’t get home till nine this evening. Kate gave me a lift to Mam and Ernie’s straight after Dust session. Had a bit of a headache coming on then and I’ve been trying to keep it at bay with tablets and fluids but it’s a stubborn bastard. Shake the Dust is great for the kids but I’m a creative writing facilitator, not a choreographer. I’ll do creative writing sessions with anyone but the drama side… Maybe I’d be better off just doing some menial tasks in my hometown twenty hours a week and content myself with having days to read and scribble. Anyway, it’s been a long day and I’m going up to bed soon. Got a Waddy session tomorrow. 10.28pm.

Tuesday 12th June 2012

Feel a bit brighter today. Last night another headache made me really negative. I have to go pick up a prescription for tablets I should have been taking twice daily since 1998. But in the last year I’ve found myself going without. Busy here and there, I often forget to carry medication with me. And don’t really feel as though it makes any difference. Ready for a break. Morning pages aren’t good at present.

Wednesday 13th June 2012

Have not been out on my bike for a week and a half. Not done much but fulfil creative facilitation duties. Meanwhile the grass grows wild and the waistline spreads. There are so many books I’d love to read but there’s never enough time. I’m eager to have my little summer break. Do some biking and researching. Like to get some sort of manuscript in shape. But I’m basically just chasing my tail in zero land at present.

Coming from a working class minimum wage environment I feel lucky to be able to play creative games in public  and get paid. I never lose sight of where I came from. This morning I’ll organise a poetry event with the Waddy Crew for lecturer’s rates while someone else is paid six or seven quid an hour to ensure the food I eat is on the shelf when I go to the supermarket. And they’ll be in store all day, every day. There will be youth groups, outward bound groups, arts groups, theatre groups that get together after a day job and think of creativity purely as a hobby. Maybe I’ve just been conditioned into thinking I’m not worth much. Personally, I think a lot of people earn too much. Capitalism is looking like the ‘evil’ option right now. Euro countries are fucked and Yankee Land not far behind them. It’s going to get really interesting over the next few months. Really interesting or really nasty. 7.16pm.

Thursday 14th June 2012

Me and Jenni are going to Pink Lane Poetry and Performance at the Jazz Café in Newcastle this evening. I’m staying at Jen’s till Sunday.

Tomorrow I have a total rest day then Shake the Dust on Saturday. Kirsten from Apples and Snakes called last night to make sure I’m  okay for the regional youth slam day. I am taking part in a showcase slam and running a short workshop on identity. The slam will be an opportunity for kids from five schools to see all the poet coaches and shadow coaches in action before hitting stage themselves in the evening.

There are concerns that a twelve hour day might be a bit long for the kids slamming in the evening – and their teachers who are attending voluntarily. I mentioned this to someone at Waddington Street Centre who used to be a teacher and she says extra hours now and again are part of the job and factored into the salary. But that still leaves the kids to be concerned about.

I haven’t done a piece of creative writing since Sunday. I’m a bit distracted. And also just a bit burnt out.

Seven of the people on the V8 to Consett this morning are making the return journey an hour later. We are predictable with our small town routines. At the Moorside bus stop I heard one person say that company shares had dropped 61p in a day. Seems everyone’s playing the investment game. Buying and selling promises, pushing numbers around a screen. And what about playing around with words.

After an hour in town getting food supplies my intention was to mow the overgrown 'lawn' - front and back gardens – but it’s probably a very bad idea. Feel really drowsy, I’m liable to have an accident.

LATER: managed to do the grass. I hate it so much I wrote a poem about it years ago, published in Hypomaniac. 2.48pm.

http://www.facebook.com/notes/steve-urwin/gardening/143803012317224