Sunday 22 April 2018

Talks and walks

What skill and insight it takes to make a work of art out of a national tragedy, to retain the horror and sadness but also to uplift and inspire. Yesterday evening I went to hear the poet Owen Sheers talk about writing the script for the film commissioned by the BBC two years ago to mark the 50th anniversary of the Aberfan disaster - something that will forever be in the memories of those of us of a certain age. Watching the film was not an easy experience, nor was listening to Owen talk about his interviews with survivors, rescuers and the families of those who died. But should you ever get the chance to watch "The Green Hollow", don't miss it. The hardback of the film poem, by the same name, was published earlier this month; it is well worth getting hold of.

The evening was part of the Abergavenny Festival of Writing and I much enjoyed the other events I went to over the three days. A highlight (as I'd anticipated) was the riverside poetry walk, led by clare e. potter (and yes, that's the correct rendition of her name!). We walked by the Usk in warm sunshine and listened to Clare reading poems both familiar and new to us, from a childhood favourite of mine - "What is this life" by W. H. Davies - through R. S. Thomas and Fleur Adcock to Rumi. We skimmed pebbles across the clear water towards islands of silt and fern, watched children and dogs paddling in the shallows and pondered other's responses to rivers before writing of our own - "Something is going on with the river, more vital than death" (Ted Hughes), "When you place your finger in a river, you are the end of what has been and the start of what is to come" (Leonardo da Vinci). So many possibilities in the topic - no wonder rivers have featured so large in prose and poetry from time immemorial!

Clare reads our last poem
beneath the castle walls

Monday 16 April 2018

Out and about

After a few weeks of being desk-bound (where of course the real work gets done!), this week brings the welcome opportunity to get to some great literary happenings. I'm looking forward to several events on the Abergavenny Festival of Writing, one of which combines a walk along part of the Usk Valley with a "Write Me A River" workshop. My favourite walks are always woodland and water trails; I'm just hoping for some decent weather. Last week I joined in several of the events on the Chepstow Walking Festival when we had far from ideal conditions; trudging through mud up to your ankles and getting saturated through your waterproofs is not my idea of a good day out! Conversation with fellow walkers tends to be minimal in those situations but I'd been struggling with some recalcitrant pieces of prose and at least five or six solitary miles give ample opportunity for thinking things through ...

The end of the week sees the beginning of the Cheltenham Poetry Festival, with its usual great line up of national and local talent. Should you be in the area next Tuesday (April 24th), we'd be delighted to see you at the Festival Players reading at the Playhouse, 5.00 - 6.00pm. In keeping with the Festival theme of "Power", all our readings have been chosen to demonstrate the incredible power of words - it promises to be an interesting event.

Monday 2 April 2018

World Autism Awareness Day

April 2nd marks World Autism Awareness Day. As someone who has had close personal experience of autism, I'm delighted that the day celebrates the unique talents of people who live on the autistic spectrum as well as highlighting the difficulties they so often face in societies that too often misunderstand or misinterpret. Many hugely creative people are now thought to have been on the autistic spectrum - including Emily Dickinson, W. B. Yeats and James Joyce - and I've had the privilege of meeting several "unknowns" who use their highly personal, often quirky, insights into life to great advantage for others as well as themselves. However, this is in no way to downplay the struggles so many individuals and their families face - and I hold them in enormous regard for the ways in which they fight to surmount those hurdles.

An Autistic Child

Fluent at six, you read
as if by instinct,
concentrating for hours,
cocooned within
your world of words.

"A gifted child"
they said.

But to spread your wings,
to interact, you must read
between the lines,
decode the syntax
of expression,
interpret posture,
gesture, space,
leaf through the pages
of the human face.

Not yours the gift that makes
for easy friendship, give and take,
acceptance by the crowd.
Such literacy a mystery to you -
a lesson to be learned
piecemeal over years.

Easier by far
the comfort of your books.


(Copyright Gill Garrett, 2013)