Friday, May 26, 2006


i wanted to post an announcement here about the Art in the Village event being held at Wortley Village (South of York and North of Baseline, between Ridout and Wharncliffe) on Saturday June 10th from 10am - 4pm. there will be tables set up in the streets and park for artists selling their wares, and i will be one of those artists - with a table of poetry chapbooks, cards and who knows what else. oh, and of course i am also interested in trading goods if you so desire!

so, if you can come out and show your suppport that would be wonderful.


oh, and if it rains it will be held at St James Westminister Church, 115 Askin St.

Found Poem

the other night at work...

[the janitor passes, pauses]

are you writing
poems? my wife
has them too, i only have
one, was given it
for times when people
leave my life. it’s simple,
small, but it was
given to me to
read at funerals or for

do you wake up with
them in the middle of the night? that
used to happen to my wife, she
wrote some beautiful things
but then it stopped.
it comes from right
here, doesn’t it.
you be sure to keep
it then, it’s a

and so i was moved to write this, for the both of us.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Roald Dahl ~ Boy

this book, Boy, is an absolutely fantastic autobiography - filled with all the delightful imaginings Dahl is famous for. i rolled myself out on the grass and laughed and laughed through these pages. so inspiring.

anyway, i want to post here a passage from this book that addresses the process of writing - being a creative writer - a topic i was hoping he would speak about.

[context] he's talking about his first job working for Shell in England and how much he enjoyed being a businessman; "all very serious and dignified gents taking the train to our offices in the City...engaged in high finance and other enormously important matters." He goes on to say,

"I began to realise how simple life could be if one had a regular routine to follow with fixed hours and a fixed salary and very little original thinking to do. The life of a writer is absolute hell compared with the life of a businessman. The writer has to force himself to work. He has to make his own hours and if he doesn't go to the desk at all there is nobody to scold him. If he is a writer of fiction he lives in a world of fear. Each new day demands new ideas and he can never be sure whether he is going to come up with them or not. Two hours of writing fiction leaves a particular writer absolutely drained. For those two hours he has been miles away, he has been somewhere else, in a different place with totally different people, and the effort of swimming back into normal surroundings is very great. It is almost a shock. The writer walks out of his workroom in a daze. He wants a drink. He needs it. It happens to be a fact that nearly every writer of fiction in the world drinks more whisky than is good for him. He does it to give himself faith, hope and courage. A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it" (155-6).

why are these words so marvelous, for me? because i can totally relate to it. not that am putting back the whisky like there's no tomorrow, but that it is very difficult to be thinking up, and finding time to write out, the new - that levaing the writer's space (mental imagining ground) is trying and sometimes torturous. i don't want to leave - it's so scary outside where things are out of your hands (literally, where the pen is gone and the characters and action run their course, which is totally unknown) - and, that this fool is not alone. it's funny, writing can be such a solitary process - where you speak with the dead and through the written word, across pages.

i read this and fell in love - hope you can dig it too.

and, his books are wonderous - do read them if you can. my favourites are, the witches, george's marvelous medicine, james and the giant peach, and the BFG!