Breaking Glass

Most years, before my birthday, I sit and work out whether I feel anything has been achieved. This year it’s an odd satisfaction within me as I sit here, typing the phrase ‘yeah, you know what, this is getting somewhere.’ The potential for everything to change in a heartbeat has never been so obvious, permanently sitting behind an eyeline well aware of what is playing out in plain sight.

A lot of this really is ridiculously unfair. People dying who shouldn’t be, could be saved, must be remembered. The good, oppressed and marginalised by those who think freedom is their privilege when it is everybody’s right. Somewhere in between is everybody else, doing their best, struggling to make it all work. Some people are failing, others succeed, and all of this, like it or not, is as it has always been.

Except, in all of this, there are the beginnings of revolution.

I feel quite flabby right now, both literally and metaphorically. Lots of bits of my body are changing, places that have been fat spots for literally decades. There’re areas of working practice that also need work, and those will be addressed starting today. Eventually, everything does find a level, and with enough thought and consideration, you can untangle even the most difficult issues.

It is time to move on from introversion, which for a while this year nearly derailed me completely. Lockdown has taught me many things, the main one being that nobody is listening, most of the time. The trick is to just keep talking and eventually, stuff sticks. Being aggrieved that people aren’t, or they don’t thank you, or all this other shit is unnecessary energy expended. Just keep on, keeping on, going forward, doing the Thing.

In time, it all works out just fine.

The people who really care still do, are here to support and are, willing to help propel forward plans that are less belief and more confidence with every passing day. Knowing that this is a righteous path also helps, but never should that feeling prevent you from being the better person. Everybody has something to teach you, especially those who think they have nothing left to learn.

There is a storm coming, and many people will not weather it well.

The Big Sky

It’s rather splendid to have woken up on a Saturday morning with nothing obvious ragging at me to be done. It’s also useful to be working on the laptop as our front room is currently a bedroom/games room. Allowing my daughter a safe space to express herself with friends where she’d have to be outside is the job as a parent I never really realised was necessary until it became apparent how it positively affected my son. He turned 20 on Thursday. Blimey.

I’ve picked a new poem to do video for. It will be difficult. Not technically, but emotionally, and that’s why we’re going to make it happen, because being safe is what other people do and not me. I’ll spend today trying to work out the mechanics. I can record quietly tomorrow morning, so audio is available earlier to play with. There’s a LANzine to finish off tomorrow as well, which I might also poke a bit today.

Lots to do, let’s crack on.

All By Myself

I’m spending a LOT of time thinking about video poetry, collections and NaNoWriMo. There is a TON of stuff to do. Most of it revolves around my own creativity and is not dependent on anyone else and right now, in the current climate, that is EXACTLY how things should be. However, to make it happen, I have to work for it.

Therefore, there will be less time hanging around on social media and more effort put into the actual practice. Therefore, if you want me, I will be available only if called. An @ on Twitter will get my attention, or a message via email (it’s not hard, that’s what it’s there for, people.) So, if you will excuse me, I’m off to try and make the next step forward in my career.

It can’t be THAT hard, right?

Getting Better

Remember I said this place used to be the daily practice and now it isn’t? Well here I am, three days after my last post. I had a poetry ‘gig’ yesterday that went very well indeed, which will turn into a regular occurrence. A virtual ‘open mic’ is exactly what reality demands at present, and it has homed down my ideas for the next poetry video.

If I’m honest, the mental fallout from this project was considerable.

It’s the first time I’ve got universal praise for my work from family, and has opened up a room in my head I knew was there, but was previously very firmly locked. It allows a very different strand of creativity to emerge that was previously untouched for decades. Most importantly of all, however, this grants me unlimited potential.

Therefore, the upside to all of this far outweighs the negatives. Yes, it will take a while to adjust, as it always do, but I already know how this will operate. Now all that needs to be done is the adjustment process, which is what today begins to organise. I already have huge plans. To do that means, yes you’ve guessed it, rearranging the furniture.

Here’s where we begin.

Moanin’

Ah, Sunday. I ignored yesterday for writing, and instead did some submitting. Gonna pull together a collection submission today in a similar vein, because the words ‘we’ll accept already submitted works if you let us know they’ve been accepted elsewhere’ is the gift that keeps on giving. Mostly yesterday I played with video options. Lots now I can be doing.

There’s suddenly a phenomenal amount of stuff that’s possible.

Except, today is one where I look after myself, walk around for as long as possible in only my PJ’s, find my desk again after two weeks of chaos, throw away the packaging, plan some poetry whilst hoping that this new routine of exercise and concentration will start granting the gains I’m really looking for. Success is one thing, progress quite another.

I can’t do 87% every day, it’s just not feasible, so starting next week we organise around maintenance and intervals. There is a calendar on which to map everything out, it cannot be impossible to sort a routine. As a grown-up woman who understands how her body operates, it is time to put all this understanding to good work. Also, I gotta stop snacking. It’s not good for the plan.

Better get started, then.

Becoming More Like Alfie

Yesterday was a triumph of form over function. Who thought that a prose piece would cause so much damage, and that defending other people would be used as a means to attack my position. It is indeed all fun and games until someone’s ego is damaged and then all you have is memories and a far larger block list. Welcome to October, where everything is in free-fall.

Except, as it transpires, this is perfectly fine. No .GIFs of cartoon dogs have been burnt in the making of this blog. I have a minute of video this morning utilising two webcams and Discord, which is fucking light years ahead of where I was two months ago. Knowing how to use it, of course, is a different matter entirely, and now the tech needs to percolate in my brain.

I might be able to manage a poem a week on YouTube, though…

These are all small steps. Seeing my own work up is a step in a decent direction. It all works well in my own mind’s eye. That’s what this is all about, when everything is said and done. It is a slow, measured progression of ideas that started on paper. Now I can plan, and consider new ways to evolve myself, in new forms and possibilities.

All of it, in the end, is only working towards a single goal: expression.

Fresh

Can’t believe it’s only Tuesday. Yesterday went on for MONTHS and, to be honest, it is still going on, and I feel horrible. I’ve let other people down, and I absolutely fucking HATE it when that happens. I end up massively overcompensating and then in turn end up remembering that this is another inherited behaviour I really need to stop falling back on. TELL PEOPLE HOW YOU FEEL AT THE TIME DAMMIT.

Anyway, it is only Tuesday. I probably need another cuppa.

In anticipation of the much-hyped and finally here launch of YouTube on Thursday, I have revamped a few things. This typeface and me clicked quite early on in my relationship with Canva, and the background’s evolved a bit from its original use. As I really have been here since 1992, maybe it is time to make that a selling point. Let’s face it, most people don’t think anything happened before 1990 anyway.

There’s also a bit more honesty in my posting over the last few days. I know why. This is really me talking, not the version of myself I often use when there is no desire to really interact with other people, but I feel obliged to. That obligation has shifted to other places, and to be honest that’s probably the best place for them. There is no need for such bollocks here.

Being authentic was never more important as it is now.

Nobody else cares about this as much as I do for a reason. It’s not their job to. If I want these things to be successful, and I desire traction moving forward, it’s simple: I have to do the work, it’s entirely up to me.

So, let’s work.

Fame

That’s my poem IN THE SUNDAY FUCKING TELEGRAPH, that is. I’d assumed, when they did the interview, that all that mattered was the serious stuff. I’d fully expected anything contentious to be edited out (as it appears was the case with the other poet they spoke to) and to have my mental health shout out left in was, it has to be said, quite satisfying.

For a poem I don’t really like that much, this is already FAR more traction than could have been reasonably expected. This morning, something else I’m not that particularly enamoured with either has unexpectedly picked up a consent form request. At some point however it might be useful to get some payment somewhere, because this stuff doesn’t feed anybody.

The attention however is, it must be said, worth the effort.

It’s odd, how certain things move on their own. My concern about diversifying too much is still niggling, but as I’ve already got video ready to roll with imagery for a poem this week after trying to do this since March, it is apparent that that wasn’t the real issue. Once the work’s attacked, it gets done. The real issue is planning effectively to get to that stage.

Looking back on previous disasters, planning was always the weak link. It would support me when creativity flagged, and would propel me forward when things got emotionally fraught. Now it’s shit hot, and happens before ANYTHING else takes place, the difference to just about everything is not only noticeable but reassuring. Why did it take me so long?

Well that’s a stupid question, you didn’t believe you could do it.

Belief is undoubtedly the key. Knowing there is nothing to prove at this stage also helps enormously… what, I’m gonna fail at this by the time I’m 30? I should be sitting at home drinking wine and watching daytime TV at my age: no woman 50 is any kop for anything, unless you’re a Hollywood actress with a skincare contract and an expensive wardrobe. Fuck all your preconceptions, and screw anyone who thinks they get to tell me I’m wasting my time.

Trust me, I did pull a shirt over my head and run around the room when that poem got chosen for publication, and every time I succeed it will be celebrated with a similar level of joyous enthusiasm because honestly, truthfully, I never expected to get here at all. It was all just possibility. Now I am here, you’ll have to extract my existence from cold, dead hands before I’ll be prepared to give it up.

Welcome to the New Routine.

5-4-3-2-1

Time is doing That Thing it sometimes does when the Universe knows I have a lot on and it needs to cut me a break. I know, it’s all personal perception at play but still, it makes everything far less stressful. I also didn’t blog personally for the second time this week yesterday, and I won’t tomorrow, because there are MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO.

So, if you’ll excuse me…

Where I Stood

Why didn’t you write a blog yesterday?

This is a very good question. One part of the answer is me, sitting here now, waiting for a phone call. NOBODY EVER calls me so when it happens, you know it’s important, and that really is all I want to say about it, for reasons which will become clear next month. Another part of the reasoning is that yesterday, summat needed to give. I couldn’t do everything.

More and more (as I wrote on the work blog) it is becoming apparent that what used to be needed to keep me sane on a daily basis is no longer required. This, undoubtedly remains a good thing. Therefore, as long as there is work somewhere, what it is becomes largely irrelevant. It’s the logical development that’s been happening for months now.

Prolific is only useful when it suits the game plan.

It makes me laugh when I watch the ‘pro’ bloggers happily state they’re recovering after having written their four blogs for the month. People aspire to live in a world where just doing enough becomes something of an art form, vital insight being used as fuel for lectures, virtual events and seminars before being referenced in countless ‘clever’ Tweet sequences.

The Internet is destroying everything: it’s time to step back and focus on reality. This is undoubtedly a true statement, in a certain light. However, if used as a selling tool you instantly become those very people exploiting the Internet to destroy everything, and that transparency is laughable. It’s why I refuse to play anybody else’s Instagram game any more, and why Facebook remains a slur.

Just enough is the reason why nothing ever really gets done.

Time to start doing more things properly.