Frank O'Hara: Why I Am Not a Painter

Last thursday was National Poetry Day. Anyone who has happened upon this blog will have read some of my poetry and I continue to write poetry on a daily basis. I am also studying a poetry module "Poetry Now" at uni.

I sat in the cafe of a local garden centre last week doing some homework, reading Derek Walcott and Seamus Heaney poems. I flicked though the vast anthology which is the core text for this module and a poem by Frank O'Hara called "Why I Am Not a Painter", which you can read here, caught my eye. It resonated strongly with me - it explains what I cannot. Why I am not a painter.

I have always painted and stopped and started again. It was my earliest wish to be a fine artist. I did a lot of painting in the couple of years before my marriage broke up, and for nearly a year after. When I fell pregnant with Sam I stopped. I have daubed and dabbled a bit since but not had much time. But I have always found time to write. And the more I write the more I write. I am more poet than painter but a bit painter too and that seems, finally, to sit very well with me.

Out of sight

It stretches in all directions and
I am in the middle again
But digging deep

The crossroads has buried treasure
And this time I am staying here
To find it, finally.

Then I will know which path to take
Home.

Transition

From Apple to hemlock via sycamore
Letting go
Letting go

Holiest fruit, classical poison, helicopter seed
Letting go
Letting go

Through the labyrinth, I catch the breeze and fall
Letting go
Letting go

And with love, I hold on to me

Discombobulated to Re-combobulated

I’ve been fighting a cold for a week now, which is silly. I should have given in and gone back to bed last Friday, or yesterday, or today, while Sam was at nursery, but instead I have carried on. It’s not something to be proud of – and is a habit I have been consciously changing. Trying to find that balance between knowing I am ok to keep going (and most of the time I don’t have a choice as a a single parent) and taking the opportunity to rest and sleep and take care of myself before my body gives me a big ‘You didn’t listen’ signal.
As I’ve said previously it’s been a good, very busy, summer, and I am now trying to tick off my To Do list before I go back to the intense experience of university. I’m not complaining- it’s mostly good stuff: clearing the patch of garden I am going to grow vegetables in next year; writing; planning activities for Sam and doing research for the work which will at some point turn into a book when it and I are ready.
As I planted bulbs in the garden yesterday afternoon I realised that the garden looks messy. Windblown and overgrown, flowers are drying and going brown on the stem. Leaves strewn across the grass along with windfallen apples and pears. And the ever-growing heaps of bindweed, brambles, ivy and other garden detritus which are piling up as I continue with my mission to clear the space at the end of the garden. My mum would have said: “It’s gone over.” It is bloated and worn out and brittle and dry and tired. The pots are still full of petunias and trailing lobelia and everything is still green and bright but it’s coming to an end and ready for change.
A bit like me then! I feel messy and out of shape and ready to break free and have a change of space. So, from today I am going to detox and get ready for university. It’s all going to be different again this year.

August to Autumn

It is dark and rainy. Hello Autumn. I felt it when I woke up last Friday- like the end of Mary Poppins, when the wind changes and she leaves again. Season of mists and mellow all that.... season of getting back to work more likely. I can't believe I am going back to uni at the end of this month. I am already stocking the freezer with batches of home-made soup and pasta sauce, and trying to sort out clutter. I am eternally trying to sort out clutter but getting more brutal with it now. I've just sold Sam's playpen on ebay and and got rid of a pushchair and bag of clothes to charity but there is tonnes more to sort out. Paperwork has to be filed and 'actioned' and more re-organising must be done before the end of September.

photo of apples taken at Glastonbury, 'The Isle of Apples', at Lammas time

The garden is starting to look different - I had a scary thought today as I was hacking away at brambles and ivy: "I could do the whole garden, not just the end"...I hate having these thoughts. I have had a quiet word with my over-ambitious self and made it clear that sorting out the end of the garden to grow vegetables is quite enough to be dealing with, apart from everything else - see the Roar! Earth blog for more on this. I also want to plant a bee-friendly front garden. I drive myself mad with all these ideas but it does keep life interesting.

Being able to drive has made such a difference to everything. I've been driving for five months now. When I passed my test I decided to drive as much as possible until I felt really confident and now, after this summer, I am ready to get back to walking and cycling as much as I can. I knew it would have an effect on my fitness levels but I swam four lengths when I took Sam swimming the other day, and my arms were aching. Time to get moving.

I am very thankful for this summer- it's been the best one I've had for years. I've caught up with old friends, made new ones, and Sam and I have been able to go out and have lots of adventures and new experiences. I feel very lucky.

Soon it will be time to batten down the hatches and get my head back into study mode. I am just starting to look forward to it. I was hoping to get cracking on a book this summer but I've been doing too much to put the time in. Instead it's been about poetry. It always has been. I can't remember not writing poetry- I wrote tonnes of song lyrics as well when I was in bands, especially Primordia. I'm enjoying it more than ever and the first year of uni has definitely taught me how to shape and edit my poems. Let's see what happens this year.

Turning, turning, turning...

Love xxx

In 1988

We were supposed to go and see a gig: Christian Death
But we did not
We got drunk and amorous instead
Caught up in an illicit thrill
We were exes now
I lay down on summer rain-drenched grass
On top of your jacket
I wore your old dress shirt
But we did not
It was too dark and rainy
We had a romantic adventure
But the next day I was your ex
And I had to leave
Knowing that your new girlfriend was on her way
And it was over
Not beginning

Balloons, Bristol, Buddies, Blogs and Bliss

It's all about the B's at the moment. Sam and I spent nearly ten days in Bristol, staying with various friends, house-sitting while other friends were on holiday, attending birthday parties and having a completely brilliant time at the Bristol Balloon Fiesta.

So now I have done a proper long drive in my car, with Sam and the aid of Tom Tom. I drove all over Bristol, in and out of the city and its environs, and out into the countryside. For a place I had lived in for several years I felt like I was getting to know it all over again via road, rather than public transport, bike and on foot.

I re-connected the geography of the city which I love so much, re-connected with my great friends there, and re-connected with lots of memories-transforming once painful territory into blessings and bliss.

I have moved on. I am moving on.

Sam had an amazing time, getting to know my friends and their children, expanding his experience and horizons exponentially, changing his views and opinions and deepening his obsession with hot air balloons.

We saw four hot air balloons ascending over the city as we drove back from friends to where we were staying, balloons rising above Bristol after the weekend-long Harbour Festival, which we had completely side-stepped, in favour of my friend's daughter's third birthday party, and the Amnesty International Fete at Goldeney Hall gardens. Sam was awe-struck by those four balloons. "Just wait for the balloon fiesta!" I told him. On Friday morning I got up at 5am, dressed Sam and bundled him into the car with a beaker of juice and some toast and we went on a tour around Bristol for the next hour, waiting for the morning ascent of balloons. Suddenly there they were! Floating above us, drifting up into the sky, glorious and colourful. We drove backwards and forwards until there seemd to be hundreds of balloons of all shapes, sizes and hues disappearing into the distance.

On the saturday I spent time at my friends' Paul and Kat's allotment, digging up onions, chatting with and gaining inspiration from Kat, while Paul looked after Sam and their gorgeous daughter Maya. Later we all headed off to Ashton Court for the Balloon Fiesta. The weather was perfect and we saw 66 balloons ascend and then waited for the Night Glow and fireworks. Sam rode on a merry-go-round with Kat and Paul and Maya. It is the latest night he has had so far. It was quite a mission getting through crowds of a quarter of a million people and managing to keep him from running off. He absolutely loved it and I think he thought he would be doing the same the next night!

Now Lammas has passed, the season is moving on again and my summer holiday is fast disappearing. I feel refreshed and ready to put everything in place for the next year at university. But before I do that I am about to embark on a new, big project. I am going to dig over the end of the garden, which has been neglected for years and turn it into a vegetable patch. It doesn't sound like much maybe, but it is a big space which is feet deep in brambles. I have no idea what I am doing but I am going to give it a go. If you would like to know more or follow my progress please see my new blog Roar! Earth

Love Love Love

xxx

And, if you are wondering about the new photo on the title of the page, it is the top of Glastonbury Tor, looking East. Heaven.