Boundaries? What boundaries?

From 'Walks Interrupted: Trentham Lake Series' by Dawn Jutton

 Exhibited at 'Dust' earlier this year as part of the City of Culture bid.

It seems that poetry and spoken word are dominating my life again. Not that I am complaining. Its been an interesting few months navigating the boundaries of my practice and discovering that the only boundaries there are the ones you place on yourself. I've met poets who make films and create theatre, poets who collaborate with artists from all disciplines and poets who share their thoughts and world views through highly entertaining and skilful performance and learnt much from them all. It quickly becomes clear however that many of their audiences are mainly poets and writers who appreciate others' writing and possibly, like me, want to learn from them and gain confidence. There is a spirit of generosity and comradeship in this arena that I have yet to experience amongst artists of other disciplines and I have had the privilege of the advice and support from some of the best over the last twelve months or so.

It all started with meeting the amazing, funny and very talented Emma Purshouse whose infectious enthusiasm for all things written and visual has been a guiding light. I blame her continued support and friendship for unleashing my current creative stream on the world! Emma has recently teamed up with two other brilliant performers Steve Pottinger and Dave Pitt to form Poets, Prattlers and Pandemonialists who, following their huge success at the Arena Theatre in Wolverhampton are about to hit the Edinburgh Free Fringe Festival, but have also formed a new night at the Pretty Bricks in Walsall. It was here that I made what I felt to be my 'debut' this month with a 5 minute open mic slot reading two new poems and a very old ditty. I enjoyed the experience immenseley and discovered a little nugget of confidence that has since spurred me on to revisit older poems and rework them.

The seemingly endless willingness of poets and small publishers to put on affordable, and often free  or 'pay as you feel' gigs like this is another indication of the underlying 'we are in this together' feeling you get. This is certainly my experience so far in the Midlands and specifically the Back Country, where poets of all abilities, reputations and confidence levels get to meet up and try out favourite and new words on appreciative audiences. One man who has done a huge amount to bring poetry to the consciousness of new audiences in this area is Bert Flitcroft. Bert is the current Staffordshire Poet Laureate and his patience and commitment to the role has been another factor in my increasing confidence. His quiet Northern accent and friendly inclusive delivery often hints at his previous profession and many of his semi-autobiographical poems comment affectionately on his life experiences and acute observations of relationships.


And so back to those boundaries and the generosity of spirit...

When I first met writer and film-maker Mal Dewhirst (an ex Staffordshire Poet Laureate) I had the immediate impression of another artist willing to share his skills with anyone who might appreciate them. We have since worked together for several weeks on a project for South Staffordshire and Shropshire Health Trust involving a series of walks around the county with people who  have varying levels of experiences with their mental health. 'A Place of Safety' has introduced me to truly collaborative working with another artist with whom I share both similar and different skills, yet fundamentally we shared the same ethos of trying to bring a sense of confidence and pride in others of their abilities to create images and words that could express many of their emotions.

'Older Women Rock the Potteries' by Leah Thorn
High Street, Newcastle-under-Lyme, Staffordshire

And finally, but not so final...

I continue to collaborate with the wonderful Leah Thorn on her project 'Poetry [e]motion' and Older Women Rock the Potteries. Leah is a current Fellow at Keele University and has set up shop in Newcastle-under-Lyme where her fabulous collection of poetry emblazoned on retro clothing is on display, and from where she is currently running a peer listening project for women over 55years old. So far it has been a welcome return to consider the feminist and ageing themes I explored during my MA course and the tireless activism and support that Leah brings to the project is a true inspiration. I am sure the experience will spark off a whole new body of work for me. The project ends on 29th July and the shop will form part of the attractions in the Newcastle Midsummer Wakes Carnival and celebrations on Saturday 22nd July. You may even catch another little outing for my performing self- something of a privilege for me alongside such an established and wonderful performer.

Why do we name a hurricane?

I initially got involved in 'There is No Planet B' , Stafford Green Arts Festival 2016  to help organise the Art competition, believing I could support the hard-working volunteers to achieve their ambition to increase and improve the quality of submissions. As the week long event looms I realise that I have probably gained as much as I have given. I have been welcomed into a new network of people who are passionate about the issues that affect our very existence on the planet, I have been appreciated for my personal efforts and professional expertise, and I have 

ensured that Gainsborough [art]works can be a worthwhile 

partner in events planned and run by others.

If I'm honest however, I have been most excited by the opportunity to immerse a little more of myself into the poetry world. Since my 'Doxey Marshes' poem has been published in 'The Poetry of Staffordshire' by Offa's Press, I have a new-found confidence in putting my random efforts out there. I have attended a few more events recently and remain in admiration of the wit and skill of performance poets. Their ability to not only weave words that make you think, read them out in a rhythm that draws you in, but 

to have enough confidence to share them is also enviable. 

So, back to the Green Arts, and this time the poetry competition. As we have Bert Flitcroft- the current Staffordshire Poet Laureate- hosting our Life of Riley [word] Cafe at Gainsborough [art]works on Thursday 3rd March, I thought it would be appropriate to have written at least one poem myself on the Festival theme. As is often the case, I awoke with a phrase in my head, "why do we name a hurricane?" and an attempt at writing a poem that 

concentrates on internal rhymes and a rhythm that might suit 

performing it has therefore occupied me this morning. 

Off to send it to Carol Kirkwood now at the BBC!

Why do we name a Hurricane?

Why do we name a hurricane?

To comprehend it, befriend it,

and send it calmer on its way

‘cause we listened to its’ moans?

Why does Carol need to warn me

She’s left Henry and Imogen’s

On her way? She won’t stay.

Like all the rest, at best,

She’ll slap your face

Cause floods of tears,

pass through, forget you,

and leave you to pick up her mess,

and deny you should address

your fears for why she visited.

Like Abigail, Barney, Desmond

Frank and Eva before her,

she’ll be the stranger at your door

you try to ignore.

You won’t listen,

or see her eye glisten

when she tells you there’ll be more.

That you called them all

with your wanting to progress,

to fill the plains with concrete plans

instead of wilderness.

Out of a tunnel and into the light

Sheltering from a rainstorm under a canal bridge at Audlem

I can never believe the time that elapses between urges to write in my blog. 
It's not that I stop writing, I just often don't feel the need to share what I think or write.
However, sometimes you meet people in life that encourage you to re-consider the potential of what you create sporadically, and this is where the happy accident of meeting the talented, generous spirit of Emma Purshouse comes in. A stroll along the canal at Norbury Junction during the festival there a few weeks ago led to me experiencing my first poetry slam (as a member of the audience-let's not get ahead of ourselves!) and subsequently participating in one of Emma's creative writing workshops a couple of days later.

I can't deny that walking down to The Mill in Audlem the stress of only just making it there on time was exchanged for reticent anticipation and a lurking fear of that I may not be able to write in company, or in response to someone else's themes or starting points. Emma knew most of the people in the workshop, some of whom were devotees of her performance poetry and others whom she had inspired in previous workshops and who now attended regular groups formed from relationships developed in those workshops. Emma's positivity and ability to make encouraging comments on each of the results form the exercises she developed created a supportive environment in which the majority felt able to share their attempts without fear of ridicule or negative reaction. Over a 2 hour period I learnt more about my own ability than I had recognised before and was pleasantly surprised by my response.

The next few posts will hopefully now come more often as I have a little more confidence in sharing the intermittent episodes of writing and hopefully develop a consistent creative text and image related output.

Watch this space...occasionally!