Thursday 9th
August 2012
I am thinking about the noise in my ears – the great
frequency buzz tells me I stood too close to those Marshall speaker cabinets in my twenties at
Swans gigs and Rollins Band gigs and other rock guitar bass drums over the years. I
am thinking about the mucus in my face and wondering why a summer cold returns
when I’ve not been out in public to catch a virus. Maybe it’s just hay fever.
Today I am going into Durham to meet up with Sheila Wakefield for a
publishing meeting regarding her debut poetry pamphlet. She has spent the last
six years putting out quality books and pamphlets by some of the region’s best
writers and has not addressed the issue of publishing her own work. We are
hoping to get her collection together before 9th September.
I am thinking about my biog note and my being a poet
diarist, editor, publisher, performer, gig promoter, workshop facilitator.
I’ve always tried to not turn down opportunities, and even if they haven’t been
the greatest at times they have always paved the way for something else. It’s good to be able to do all the stuff and
not have to clock in at an office or a factory. Just want to keep doing what I
do and keep the wolf at bay. It’s been a good journey through 2012 so far. Keep
it going. 7.13am.
Dusk and
Beyond
Forgotten rituals.
Harnessing darkness
and fatigue, stagnation
and stultification.
The change of days.
Endless swelter
giving way to shivering.
What to do with the carcass,
Buried in the bed clothes.
Spent after slavery.
Forgotten rituals.
Steam and dissonance,
Ripples and rancid repetition.
Scabs, sores, sparking synapses.
Broken limbs, shredded tongue.
Rusty larynx,
Itchy incandescence.
Ever falling, ever turning.
Broken by the believers.
Scorned by the deceivers.
Forgotten rituals.
Where to now?
Long road, deep hole.
Panting in the corner.
Bleeding on all fours.
Friday 10th
August 2012
It’s later than you think. But no matter. There’s
plenty of time to go out, do your thing. You can listen to the birds sing.
Write a pile of doggerel. Watch the bored ones on the dole out the bus window
as it trundles through Devastation
Street where the kids have holes in their clothes
and odd shoes on their feet, flock of seagulls haircuts and tattoos of barbed
wire round their wrists. It’s okay to dream away. Nothing’s a bother.
Everything will work out fine. So long as you’re home in time for tea and a
nice natter with the powers that be. We all love the cosy rosy feel we get from
a huddle round the biscuit tin with our loved ones’ anecdotes and then it’s off
for a walk in the woods. So why can’t you laugh like you used to. Get the wax
out of your ears. Allay all your fears. The climate is hot and clammy, so let’s
deliver the final whammy and say this isn’t for the likes of THEM. They don’t
know their anus from a hole in the ozone layer. We don’t care what they think.
We are the tomorrow people and we ride the dream. 7.54am.
Another hot day. Didn’t leave the house until
twenty to nine but had all the stuff from the printer by ten past ten. Went to Stanley and into
Lamplight. Dropped off a couple of Northern Elements posters and some cards. Put some cards in the Louisa Centre then a few pubs and shops; and Stanley
Library, where strangely, they don’t put posters up. Got the bus back to
Consett and repeated the process in Library and Empire Theatre but had to get
home for a meeting. Guy from Evermor told me the arts degree courses aren’t
going to happen because universities have cut them. Tomorrow is the Writing
Marathon at Lit and Phil. Have lots of stuff to haul over to Jenni’s place
tonight. Want to be at the venue really early to set up. Time to pack now.
7.52pm.
Saturday
11th August 2012
Very tired after the marathon. Event went really
well. Nine of us took part. Sheree Mack, Jenni Pascoe, Maggie Tate, Diane
Cockburn, Amina Evans, Mandy Maxwell, Catherine Graham, Mark Tindle and me. The
committee room where the workshop took place was great. Wrote about thirteen
pieces each. Some of mine were really poor but one or two were quite good and
with some editing/embellishing might make it as performance pieces. Forgot to
go to the train station to pick up tickets for next Friday’s Sheffield
trip so will have to go tomorrow. Me and Jenni have eaten quite a bit. At the
marathon I had a bacon mayonnaise sandwich, two little meat pouches and a bag
of crisps. Back at Jen’s a cheese spread with tomato and cucumber sandwich, two
pork pies and some Lovehearts.
Haven’t seen much telly. Keep falling asleep. Jen
points out my strange obsession with naming every person in a film or show and what their previous roles were.
She thinks it destroys the characters they are portraying in the current
presentation. I’ve been trying to think of the name of the character from THIS
LIFE who is played by the guy in the supporting detective role in the new
Midsomer Murders. Just done it again with Henry Winkler in some film that’s
just started. John Lee Hooker’s Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom song just came on but not
sung by JL.
There are a few pork pies left. I might have one.
And I need a cup of blackcurrant. I will be in bed soon. Jenni laughs at my
dozy ways when I’m tired. I can be dozy when not tired. I’ll feel much better
when I get a little drinkie. Jenni put a zombie clip on You Tube tonight. From
the American news. Tomorrow is lazy Sunday 10.17pm.
Sunday 12th
August 2012
While Jen slept this morning I went on the
computer and read the opening pages to a ‘How-To’ journaling book. It sounded
quite promising but the reviews were terrible. I own enough books on the
subject. After Lunch we went for a walk into Newcastle
to pick up train tickets for my Sheffield
trip. We got tango apple juice and sat opposite the Kard Bar just off Westgate Road.
Watched WATCHMEN later this afternoon. Not great. Jenni fell asleep. Watched
Depeche Mode 87-88 documentary when I got home. Going to upload marathon pix
tomorrow, catch up on edits then work on Sheila’s collection. 11.24pm.
Monday 13th
August 2012
One of those totally irritating days. Nothing goes
according to plan. Took a long time to cut vids into stills and when eventually
I had one hundred shots ready to upload, they starting duplicating like popcorn
when I held down the control key to group them all into one facebook upload.
Spent hours deleting copies of copies of each image individually for fear of
triggering the process again. So far I’ve done no type-ups. People I’ve emailed
haven’t been back in touch. Listened to lots of New Model Army whilst working
this afternoon, watched the remaining Depeche Mode documentaries this evening.
Felt they kind of tailed off a bit from the mid-nineties onwards. Very warm
outside this evening. Some days you just want to say fuck it. 9.15pm.
Tuesday 14th
August 2012
Summer comes and goes. And I rarely go outside
unless it’s for food or a gig. Yesterday I worked on photo edits, today a
pamphlet. Really pleased with the way it’s turning out, the woodcuts look
great. All set on a basic XP Word package with imported j-peg images. Sheila
likes old-school pamphlets. Really looking forward to getting it published for
her. I keep picking up the proof copy. Will toy with the idea of publishing
more. 11.47pm.
Wednesday
15th August 2012
I took a photo of my tea. A medium size baked
potato with diced cheese and tiny cuts of bacon surrounded by alternating
slices of beetroot, cucumber and tomato dotted with tiny pickled onions, two
runny milkless scrambled eggs sprinkled with more Red Leicester drizzled with
tomato ketchup and more pieces of bacon round the sides. I put in a fourteen
hour work day yesterday. Mandy Maxwell put a nice comment on facebook saying the marathon
pics I took captured the whole day. Really pleased with the way things went at
the Lit and Phil. Back there tomorrow to read some pieces about influential
places. I am not very well-travelled. Well, worn, but not well- travelled. It
will be interesting to see if my imaginary settings and local haunts work
alongside the other readers’ exotic verse.
This afternoon I commented on a Facebook status
about apprentice painting and decorating: “I nearly
destroyed a bedroom once whilst high on paint stripper fumes at one in the
morning after having three attempts at glossing a radiator. I last decorated
the whole house way back in 1997 when I went all minimalist whilst writing a
full-length austerity prose project inspired by Samuel Beckett and ended up in
a psychiatric ward, diagnosed as bi-polar, suffering permanent memory damage.
Put me off decorating for life. Still, got Hypomaniac out of it and haven't had
a ‘normal’ day-job since. Swings and roundabouts and all that.” It was meant to
be funny, but maybe I should just stick to bleakness.
It’s stopped raining. The light is on in the
bedroom. I run my hand over five days of stubble. Suppose I better shave my
head before going out tomorrow. 8.02pm.
No comments:
Post a Comment