Did This Did That Doesn't Cut It All The Time

Monday 28th January 2013

Productive day. Two workshops prepped by lunchtime, work on my chapbook afterwards. Only one more piece to edit before I begin sequencing contents. My intention was to have them run chronologically from original date of composition, but that might not work. Turning a bunch of writings into a cohesive sequence is sometimes the hardest part of the process.

Read some great essays by Tom Warner, Andrew Greig and Mark Granier from 'In their Own Words – Contemporary Poets on their Poetry'. Interesting things about process, editing, formal and free verse. And about not knowing where the next poem is going to come from. I never know where the next poem is coming from. Mostly, I discover fragments of verse amongst the banal scribble that is my daily journaling habit. An early night I think and then up for my session at Waddy. 10.30pm.

Tuesday 29th January 2013

One of those nights when your head feels like it’s stuck in a vice. Pain behind the eyes. The threat of migraine. Lie down and listen to Kate Bush’s album 50 Words for Snow – even though the white stuff has been washed away by all this persistent rain, accompanied by a force nine gale.

Lie on the bed and thumb a few old pamphlets, books you made for other people. Remember how you did it. They look as good as other small press publications out there. Lie down and try to lose the frustration of not being able to finish a project. It’s one of those nights when you just know that to keep pushing will result in mishap or injury.

You get nowhere tonight. You’ve just got to sit it out till it’s time for bed really. Kate is getting impatient with Joe. You push your glasses back up your nose and feel sick for a while. It’s one of those nights when you wish you were somewhere else completely.

Wednesday 30th January 2013

This morning I did a workshop on Risk - what we’re willing to write about and what we aren’t. Ironically, today has been overshadowed by events the details of which I am unable to blog. Could really use some sleep now. Numbness is probably for the best. At least my stomach isn’t churning like it was this morning. No Trashed Organ for us this evening. Here in Newcastle Library, Jenni has gone off on the wander. I don’t know what the rest of the night has in store. Don’t really want to look at books. 5.45pm.

Thursday 31st January 2013

Did a bit of one to one work at Waddy and chatted with the members but felt like a bit of a spare part after lunch and just needed to get some time to myself. Fell asleep on the top deck of the 15 bus back to Consett. I’m concerned about money issues. Council tax rises this Spring, unsure about employment. Can’t really afford to do much this year. Going to have to budget well to stay afloat if I can’t secure any new employment. Got offered a gig but had to turn it down coz it’s going to clash with a prior engagement. Folded A3 paper for a new morning pages booklet ready for stitching. Copy-ups. Listened to Nick Cave songs. Read some online articles – seven story types and should writers only write or do their own marketing as well. The heating has been on all evening. Really tired. 9.30pm.

Friday 1st February 2013

Last couple of days have kind of worn me out so I pretty much took the day off. Went for an eye test this afternoon and was pleased that I don’t need new glasses. It was bad enough having to pay for the test on top of contact lenses. Had a look round the hardware section of Boyes but they didn’t have any springs for my book press, checked out fabrics for hardbacks. 

Had a look at the paperbacks in a couple of charity shops, no intention to buy – still haven’t put a dent in the titles I got for Xmas. Bought a display folder for Waddy. Tomorrow will be a catch up day on course work and typesetting. Had a couple of interesting requests lately regarding performance opportunities but I’m reluctant to accept much without new material to take onstage.

Jenni is here and watching comedy on tv. Not much to report really. Mind is a bit blank at present. A few dreams in morning pages. Been checking emails and Facebook but feel a bit removed from social networking. 9.27pm.

Saturday 2nd February 2013

Ice blue sky, peachy horizon, bare trees barely moving. Sugar coating on the roofs of static cars. Blue wheelie-bins standing to attention by gateposts. Not a soul in sight.

I’m sick of waking and stalling before writing because of my bladder. Don’t like having to get up and go to the toilet before reaching for the pen. But at least this allows a different vantage point from which to begin my rambles. 

I’ve done little over the last couple of days and I’m really starting to get irritable. We all have a finite amount of time on the planet, some of us more conscious of the fact than others and I feel like I’m wasting my time sitting about when I could be sowing the seeds of a better future.

Looking forward to having a new volume of my material available. Wish I’d been able to get permission from a photographer to use one of her images for the cover. I’m now tempted to commission one, but not sure how to go about it. I mean, what if an artist comes up with four or five images and none of them are suitable; they still need paying for their time. I suppose the best thing would be to get an existing image and pay a small fee for the right to use it. I’d really rather come up with an image myself but so far that hasn’t been possible, save the doodle sketch I did the other evening…

It’s great to lose yourself in writing. I like having the quiet morning time. Mornings are better for me. I haven’t exhausted the day with routine tasks. I still have the possibility of capturing a dream now and again. Did this, did that doesn’t cut it all the time. I like that as the title of a lesson plan actually…

But enough of the pre-breakfast rambles. I need food. 8.55am.