door way

a door
you, who have come here
moved in, unlocking things
before I noticed,
What are you doing here?
Where did you find those keys?
and who told you where to find
those
locked up places?

Who are you to me?
Will you just unlock and leave?
leave all these rooms open?
for someone else to explore?
Are you a door yourself?
a key?
or a wide expanse of being, to discover?
a togetherness?

a depth?
a sea?


hovering, waiting, writing

I’m here but not quite there. I can feel the jumble of myself, from working working working. The truths have got entangled. What I know I believe I can’t quite remember, can’t retrieve.

Yesterday an old thought stole into my pondering, as if it had dug its way out of the weary piles of tasks, remnants of the last months, and as if entered by another door, catching me off guard: ‘What if I lived as if the central truth of my romantic life is that I am living an epic love story? Preposterous, if the evidence is assessed, past disappointments lined up, absences annotated.

We are all living an exhaustion it seems, one we didn’t entirely see coming, because even the pessimists did not really predict it.

What if a greater beauty was still left? What if it was our choice of position that will unleash new hope. What if the story was wilder?

The thought had already made itself at home with startling nonchalance. Did I let it stay, or barricade it back out? If it stayed, it was going to require some rearrangements to the inner terrain, the inner furniture.

Do I let myself be vulnerable to hope (again)?

Suddenly, certain glimmering memories, surfaced, becoming fuel for dreaming.

And if I allow the preposterous to become the obvious, how do I then live?

found poem, London, winter 2014

I like my town

Art is a dirty job but someone’s got to do it.

Back to basics.
Douceur d’enfance.

Today is a good day.
Live what you love.

She acts like summer
and walks like rain.

Art for all.
Discovery.

Let’s fill this town with artists.
Art is nothing without the gift

‘I love William Morris
as I love most artists who manage
to make their lives and work
completely part of each other.’

When William Morris lay dying in 1896,
one of his doctors diagnosed his fatal illness
as ‘simply being William Morris,
and having done more work than most ten men’.

Love is enough.

Own a masterpiece.

Welcome.

No peeking.

Skate.

He is like a tree planted beside the streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season,
whose leaves do not fade,
in all that he does he prospers.

‘Dying is as natural
as being born’.

The secret is out.

You are here.

Step into the adventure.

Thou God seest me.

A little patience won’t hurt you.

Notes on locations:  sign in Loft store, shirt in Loft, product in Loft, candle in Loft, art in Loft, art in Loft, Duke St Emporium, DSE, Landrover showroom, name of shop, sign in same shop, Anarchy and Beauty, National Portrait Gallery, cushion in NPG shop, sign in NPG, Jigsaw store window, Somerset House sign, engraving of Proverbs 1 in Somerset House monument, quotation attributed to Cecily Saunders, Kings College London, wording on a van, street map, advert on bus, wording above St Clements Danes church, sign on Tube.

critics’ tribunal

One of my prevailing awarenesses as I write more consistently, is of the different inner critics and judgements that my work attracts.

I am loathe to dispatch all my inner critics, because some of them make very helpful, quality-increasing contributions.  So, by careful attention, I have managed to identify some of the different critic voices, and from this I have found some who can stay (carefully managed) and one or two who are on their way out.

I would like to put the critics in the dock:

Proof-reader, what do you have to say for yourself?

PR:  Thank you for asking.  In fact I am doing my best to contribute to team extraplorer by making sure that the writing that you do is clear of mistakes that will distract people who are reading your work.  Also, I have been in training for some time (although to be honest some of my training was in France so I am aware that sometimes I do hesitate between two punctuations).  Also, I do my best to reflect the way you hear your words in your head, even if that requires grammatical latitude.  So I think I should stay.

Sound-engineer, what can you say in your defence – why should you stay?

SE:  My specialist area is listening to the musicality of the words.  I try to be attuned to rhythm, pitch and volume.  If a word seems to clash, I do my best to find another solution.  I’m also aware that the audience are hearing things in different places, so I go and sit in different seats to be sure that they can have the truest experience where they are.  Honestly, you need me on your team.

Truth, you sometimes stand in the most inconvenient places, and quite often immoveable.  Why should you stay?

T:  I have learned wisdom in many deep ways.  I know you well and love you.  I don’t want you to stray into places that make you vulnerable to deception or delusion.  I know I sometimes cause time-consuming rethinking, but I believe in you and want your journey to be anchored in what is real.  But I must point out that I also allow you lots of space to play.  I am not a box-ticker.  I understand that we are together in an adventure, and we will learn about each other on the way.  But be aware, there is someone else who tries to disguise himself as Truth, and he is not, he is Belittle.

Belittle, what are you doing here?

B:  More to the point, what are you doing here?  I can see that some of these words seem to be appealing to some people, but really they are probably mostly spam, or just liking you to be liked back.  You know what the internet is like.  And honestly, you’re excited about people following your blog.  Pah, there are billions of people in the world and you are getting excited about forty-four of them.  It’s not the best ratio is it?  And while we’re thinking about ratios, the effort expended on thinking about this compared to the result.  Pitiful!

Darkness, are you there?

D:  No, you’re just imagining it.

Judgement?

[…]

Despite, or maybe because, of its heavy silence, I have become increasingly aware of the presence of Judgement, because it is present with some of my writing, but absent in others.  For example, I felt a lack of judgement about the found poems, when I’m writing ‘thinking thoughts’ and when I am writing about something more universal, like leaving my thirties behind.  But when I wanted to write about something more tender or personal, I can feel this mean feeling that ‘this is not real writing.’

Darkness and Judgement seem to form a team that is really difficult to spot or deal with.

But I feel that Darkness and Judgement can be unsettled, disrupted into revealing their presence, and especially this is true in the presence of other people.  They thrive on silence, and fear, but when this is being dispersed, it is like they get dispersed at the same time.

As I bring different mirrors to my writing, by noticing other people’s stories about their writing, I am becoming more able to expose Darkness and Judgement to the light.  Exposed to the light it turns out there are two Judgements, one, an imposter, who tries to crush creativity through shame.  Another, a sensitive and nuanced critic who is there to increase the quality of my perception of my work, who works in tandem with Truth and Sound-Engineer and Proof-Reader to check that my work honours the wholeness of my intentions.

True Judgement, what would you like to say?

TJ:  I am still learning how to judge carefully and honestly.  I bring together the work and the team, and try to hear clearly each person’s contribution, and how it relates to the essence of your work.  I slow them down and make them explain themselves if what they say is muddled.  It is so important that I am not confused with impostor Judgement, because without me you will not be able to express the fullness of what is on your heart, or in your mind, or vision.

Be patient with me because I am learning with you, and it will take time for us to trust each other, and for us to become stronger and more confident of our contribution.

Having a range of critics who I am comfortable with and who can stay is giving me confidence to expel those whose presence is only destructive.

[untitled]

Our hearts are dying,
crushed under the
weight of all our
pain.

Buried
by a thousand
homicides.

Starved
by all our
compromise.

Crying frozen tears.

Forbidden to complain.

Forever claimed by clamour,
we are slowly
wasting
away
to
O

***

Our hearts are living.
Crushed, they
bear the weight of
all our pain.

Weeping
for a thousand
homicides.

Feeding
on all our
compromise.

Warming frozen tears.

Daring to complain.

Never claimed by clamour,
we are slowly
gathering an
everlasting
radiance.