Storytime

In a whirl and a 'quick-do-it-before-you-change-your-mind' moment I signed up for a six week online poetry course with poet  Andy Jackson . I have read Andy's poetry and seen him perform several times, so when I saw this, very casual 'who would be interested in an online poetry course' I put my hand up. Then of course I had doubts. Lots of doubts. Then, before I could change my mind, payment and committed. Can I say, it was a FANTASTIC  way to start a year. It got me thinking about words. Got me thinking about topics and themes. How I construct poems. How I often use the easy way out. Why I write poetry. It's my way of trying to understand the world. Putting down how I feel, hopefully without the Hallmark sentimentality smwaltz. There are so many moments I attempt to capture. So many conversations with Miss Nine...often out there and crazy conversations.  Her view of life is as complex as it is innocent. Or the moment Miss Two stepped...

During the school holidays, amongst the balloons and bubbles, the puppet storytime and wrapping kids up as mummies...I ran a black out poetry workshop. My first. It was such fun and it left me amazed at how imaginative and creative kids can be. A very excited group arrived, and interestingly none of them had created black out poetry before. A few had written poetry and one little girl (our ages were 9 plus) had quickly written a poem that morning as she thought that would be needed. I quickly gave an explanation, and showed them examples. We talked of finding an anchor...that one word that would be your starting point. And how to then scour the page for words that could be tied in. We worked on an example on the board...showing how words can be in the same wavelength. LOVE ---They offered up chocolate, boys, friends, kiss, coffee, family, dog etc Or how words can be opposite and create something interesting---they gave me denial, hate, pain, hurt. ...

Recently I spent a week with a friend I hadn't seen in a long time. Nearly two years I think, perhaps longer. Some of you will know that I'm great ... okay ...terrible with phones. Never been known to phone unless practically forced to. Just the way I am, and my friend and I were a bit slapdash with email. Okay make that quite bad with email. So I did wonder if there would be awkward silences when we did finally catch up. Would there be nothing to say, as our lives had moved on in so many different ways. I needn't have worried. It was like we had met last week for a coffee. It was a great week in Brisbane, a city I had not experienced before. There was a lot of walking and talking. And talking and walking. Many sights were seen... and some new coffee shops discovered. And amongst all that talking (and walking) we reconnected with poetry. My friend had been working on a series of poems but hadn't sent any out for a few years....and I...

Recently I, along with a friend and her grandchild, travelled to the wondrous wilds of Warragul. Not especially wild of course but I liked the alliteration. Why, you may ask, did we travel forth? For 'a night of outstanding entertainment' or so the flyer promised. A new venture  (although she has ran other ventures) run by the incorrigible Yvette Stubbs and the subdued and demure Dollsy G. Yvette is an artist / poet / entertainer and we looked forward to a night of fun. Fun it was.  Featured performers were Wendy Sellings, clad in pink tutu,  playing her ukelele to her original songs (especially loved Blood, Blood, Blood)  Anthea Williams, and her interpretative poetry and out there costumes.  Gerard Lewis-Fitzgerald and his poetry, which made us run an emotional gamut from laughter to sadness, contemplation to sorrow.  And of course there was Yvette... Not only hosting and encouraging, but performing ...

Another year rolls on and another year of poetry in the Dandenongs. Last Sunday we had the first Poetry in the Hills for 2017. Held in the Belgrave Library, it is a great place to share your work. Sing a song...recite your poem....read a piece of memoir...play the ukelele.  Yes we have it all. As usual it was a great mix of work. Some memoir, the majority poetry, even a performance as a poet had memorised her poem. Always a winner in my book. The poetry was wide ranging. From political to observations of every day. One poet wrote a piece for his wife to celebrate 30 years together...she heard it first at the gig. There were pieces on mental illness, on trying to find peace in the chaos of the world. There were pieces on personal development, on the struggle with relationships, on finding relationships and on keeping relationships. Not only is the work so varied but the readers as well. Some were nervous, others full of confidence, some bristling with indecision....

For years, almost ten I believe, Alex ran Poetry in the Hut. The Hut Gallery in Ferntree Gully was a good venue...close to public transport...easy parking. There was no feature reader but an open stage, five minutes with the proviso of not using the F or C word. (If you are a good writer you don't need them). Then of course there was the afternoon tea provided by the ladies from the gallery. Times move on and so do venues. The venue changed and now we have... Poetry in the Hills is held in the Belgrave Library. $5 entry...2 pm start...usually with some musical entertainment and refreshments afterwards. It is a very warm and welcoming environment. Some old and familiar faces, some new faces. What I love the most is the variety of performances. Yes it is called Poetry in the Hills, but we always get so much more. Songs, musicians, memoir, short story. On Sunday we had some great musical treats- one young girl (a newcomer) stunned us all with her amazing voice and...

I recently went to a workshop on the verse novel by poet/ author Lisa Jacobson . Lisa was a great teacher, inspired and passionate about poetry. Eager to support us into 'having a go'. Now the verse novel is something I have read, read quite a few actually over the years, and enjoy. I even attempted one quite a while ago---I am a bit of a dabbler (aka will give most things a go). I always enjoy a workshop, no matter what genre or form, because I always take something away. Sometimes new information, sometimes a reinforcement of what I know but need to hear again...but I always leave  ready to write and with a few new ideas floating around. One of the first verse novels I read was Karen Hesse's Out of the Dust    which I loved. It made me want more. Since then I've read Dorothy Porter and Steven Herrick, Catherine Bateson and Libby Hathorn, Margaret Wild and David Levithan- mostly YA or children's I must admit but I am beginning to read more widely.  I ...

When I garden I tend to have an idea of what I'm trying to achieve. Yes I still put something in the ground because there is a vacant spot or because I have a plant that has to be in NOW but these days I'm trying to see the bigger picture. I have a plan in mind, a picture of what I want the end result to look like. When I planted these box cuttings, the idea was a hedge, however where the fuchsia is at the end, that is a gap where one plant died. On the other side is a very very healthy box plant. I could have planted another plant, but  I went with the flow. I clip the hedge and I'm building up the lone box to hopefully do a bit of topiary, basic mind you, on it. But there was a general idea, an image in my head of what the overall picture would be like and I work towards it. Gardening is a very personal thing, everyone has their own view of what makes a good garden. For some it's low maintenance, others like straight lines and formal regiments of plants...

 I do love the way children have such an imagination. To them, anything and everything is possible. They have no editors or critics. Their stories feature themselves as hero, naturally, sometimes mum or dad will make an appearance, sometimes a bestest ever friend...sometimes their pet. They live in the now, and the now is really quite amazing. One of my regular Storytimers loves superheroes. Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Hulk, Green Lantern. His favourite though is Spiderman. And he can tell me every episode he has watched...in minute detail. And this is what he did last week. His story went a bit like this....... so Spiderman came out of the house, but this wasn't the real Spiderman, this was the bad one, the black one, do you know the bad one? he's the one that isn't really Spiderman but looks just like him, except he's not, and he's bad..and he's black...which isn't what the real Spiderman looks like ...not the good one...and then when he ca...

I'm always in awe of those poets that get up on stage and just go for it. No piece of paper in their hand, no mobile phone or Ipad clutched tight. They simple burst with poetry. They have memorised their work and are now performing it. Not reading, not simply uttering words ...it is a performance. And it's always something amazing to see. Every now and then I like to give myself that challenge...to memorise a piece of poetry and recite it. I have asked various poets over the years how they do it...how they manage to remember their work...and it's by repetition.  No simple and quick format...it's by going over and over the poem. So that's what I do. I pick a poem, and this is very important, pick the right poem. Not every poem is a spoken word poem. And not every poem will be easily memorised. I find that it has to have a flow. If it starts here and abruptly goes there, then back tracks way over to the pre beginning....it's very hard to get it down. ...

Just had a relaxing weekend with a lovely friend Kim, and her son Max. We talked, ate (Indian feast at night, out for breakfast the next morning, then Italian Pizza extravaganza for lunch)...we went for a very muddy, chilly but sunny walk with Tilly (aka the Wonder Horse). It was great to catch up....we so don't do this often enough. I'm always left inspired after a Kim catch up. She's a personal trainer, so is very good at motivation and just getting it done. And this rubs off on me in so many ways. Probably more than she ever thinks. During one of our talks she spoke how she had given homework to her 'trainee's. They had to think about what 'fills their jug.' What replenishes and restores them. It is a cliche (but dare I say a truth) that women give so much. To their work, to family and friends, to the eternal housework, to all that means keeping hearth and home together. But you can't run on empty...mentally or physically. She wa...