Monday 22 June 2020

Live Session 22nd June ~ Solstice with Kenneth Steven

Today's session was a life masterclass on the craft of writing... for which Cap'n Bev claims little credit but the facilitation. The process of writing, the timeline between inspiration and groundwork of building a piece up to the best it can be,  this is generally a lonely journey, but we all found validation in the sharing of our writing journeys this morning. I have permission from the author to quote:

If there's a chance for something to get out, it does.
by Giovanna McKenna

The curious observation of the morning was the list of obstructions to writing that might be considered "successful" ... and I am heartened to discover that we perceive that success to be more than publishing or praise... that these writers KNOW when it's a good piece. As writers we can be hindered by criticism, cruelty, self censorship, mental health compromises or just plain lack of time.



There's a random rhododendron since they're pretty stunning at the moment. Our inspiration for writing this morning came from the breathtaking poetry of Kenneth Steven: Island


the sun never died completely in the night

And if lockdown is getting to you, take an audio trip to the islands of the west of Scotland by listening to a five part series from BBC Radio 3's Essay series:




Mindfulness and Writing

Thanks to a piece of funding from Foundation Scotland we have an 8 week project starting on Friday 26th June - click the link above for more information. 



Monday 15 June 2020

Live Session 15th June 2020 ~ Dark & Light with Kim Stafford

You could  all but smell the Water Story coffee in this morning's session as the conversation grappled with the Black Lives Matter events of the past week or two. 
In fact our writing prompt

dark and light together

came from a piece called Pandemic Coffee restoration Ritual  that you can read here among Pandemic Poems by Kim Stafford

Once you've had a look at that, treat yourself to the audio visual delights of a further collection: Poems for the Pandemic from the Oregonian

Kim Stafford is the guest speaker at the Lapidus webinar after the AGM on Thursday 25th June; if you haven't booked your tickets for those events then scroll down the page - I've pasted links again at the end of this post.


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SUBMISSION TIME
Many thanks Kay for the following links - come on writers, I'm hoping we will find you in these competitions, hmmm? Hmmmm? Hmmmmmm?


University of Aberdeen's Lockdown Lore Collection Project

Pendemic
this from University College Dublin

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Today I'm happy to be sharing a poem from John Young who we haven't seen in a wee while; his powerful piece here gives us an idea why that might be:


And the ball keeps bouncing
by John Young

We watched you exhale the final time; we screamed soundlessly. 
And the ball keeps bouncing. 

The world has set itself on fire; burned out homes, ravaged streets.
And the ball keeps  bouncing. 

Monsoons drown the screaming, and the klansmen keep on lynching.
And the ball keeps bouncing. 

The virus sweeps the world; parks, shops, all stand still.
And the ball keeps bouncing. 

Fear and loathing stain our conscience. 
And the ball keeps bouncing. 

The trees keep growing; the fish keep swimming; the rivers keep running; the birds keep singing. 


And the ball keeps bouncing. 



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TICKETS MUST BE BOOKED (free) FOR 
LAPIDUS AGM & WEBINAR:

LAPIDUS AGM (Zoom) - Thursday 25th June from 5:30pm
Book for the AGM 
LAPIDUS Webinar with Kim Stafford - Thursday 25th June from 7:00pm

Book for the webinar here.







Monday 8 June 2020

Live Session 8th June ~ Unrest wtih Maya Angelou

There was a curious and unexpected protest on deck this morning with menopause being the conversation... and the cause of subjugation. One and all agreed that this topic is hopelessly under represented in life's general conversation, impacting half the population on a scale that ranges from mild to utterly devastating. We have put our minds to the task of opening such conversations here on this platform.... but "m" is the second letter of hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm... so in truth, will we get around to that?

Meanwhile the theme of the day brought our minds and pens to worldwide unrest in the wake of the death of George Floyd, the Black Lives Matter movement.


Still I Rise  Maya Angelou's poem, was where I went for contemplation and this is where our prompt of the day comes from:

I am the dream and the hope of the slave



Many thanks to Pat Sutherland who has shared her hugging thoughts from last week:

Hug

On occasion hugging poses awkward questions: ‘Do I know this person well enough?’ ‘Will a hug seem presumptuous?’  ‘Does this person even like being hugged?’  ‘Must I hug this person?’  ‘Is this person never going to let go?’

After three hugless months, however, I have lost my scruples.  I have discovered how much I need and miss human contact of the physical kind.  The delivery man at my door today narrowly missed being folded in my embrace and given half a chance I’d hug the cat next door, though she has always observed discreet social distancing.

I will not be responsible for my conduct when hugging becomes permissible, when the suit at the podium produces a graph delineating the ratio of safe hugging in relation to area and the legal maximum participants in a group hug.  When it happens I will spend all the birthday hugs I’ve been saving; I will go to the gate and hug passers- by;  I will get behind the wheel and drive south to hug my grandsons until they wriggle free; I will be a mug for hugging.





Monday 1 June 2020

Live session ~ HUGS

Many of us tentatively but gratefully met with family this weekend but the absence of hugging was unbearable for most of us. This led me to the shortest prompt of the century:

HUGS

Some delightful Water Story writing came out of the prompt (watch this space for posts to come) which is more than can be said for my google search for relevant poems. Try it yourself... a deluge of perhaps the worst poetry imaginable has been precipitated by an act that we all agreed was utterly fundamental to our human expression. In desperation I shifted the search to TOUCH, skirting the sexier poems I landed at last on this deeply moving poem called The Touch by Anne Sexton. What a journey this takes you on; well worth several reads.

Sharing today is a rich collection from Kay Ritchie, inspired by our Gerard Manley Hopkins session about Spring last week; thanks Kay!
Portrait of Kay Ritchie by Susie Taylor



After Manley Hopkins
by Kay Ritchie

wheels -  whirring whirling birling skirling
water wheels  spinning wheels  ferris wheels
bicycle wheels  wheels on prams   wheels on cars
wheelchairs & wheelbarrows
wooden ones and metal ones and plastic ones &
William Carlos William’s red one &
Paul Durcan’s Copacabana one &
the squeaky one Kate pushed last week
one wheel trundling down our street
its barrow brimming
purples  oranges  reds and pinks
rhododendrons bundled in its wooden sink
a glorious gift from her garden &
it brought back happy memories of that one
obtained for work at our hut at Carbeth
its rusty rumbly/rattly/rolling
negotiating lumpy bumpy land
to carry soil dug up by David
(stones and wiggly worms and waggly weeds)
my job to dump and return
to help plant the herbs that would feed
feed family and friends,
feed butterflies and bees
feed our senses
the purple lavender
the pink echinacea
the white camomile
the blue borage
the parsley sage rosemary and thyme
the mint and chives and fennel and dill
the basil on our window sill
all made possible by
that one world weary wheel