The Dust of Life

What!! Osama's dead and someone is still instigating terrorist activity?  What! Who?
Come on, I hate the news sometimes, and try not to watch it at all - but saw a glimpse of Americans celebrating the recent passing of Bin Laden, when I got back from Morocco, and knew this would happen.  Terrorism will continue as long as the top past time in Israel is throwing stones at Arabs and building houses in their villages. Still I think people blame the average American too quickly, anyone who knows anything about American history knows it is one cover-up after another and I wonder if Americans know even half of what is really going on around the world.

Anyway I didn't intend on writing about politics, but about art-writing-photography and all that good stuff.  Picasso once said 'Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.'

This week I've done a couple of new postcard sized collages, and written quite a bit.  I signed the contract for my poem which was published last week (here) I get $5 and a copy of the book.  It isn't Little Brown, but I'm really pleased because it is a book about war, and American experience of war since 9/11 and I'm sure there will have been loads of American submissions, and that mine was picked shows, I hope, that it was half decent. I also signed up to a short story course which there might be more places on if anyone is in Manchester and likes writing stories, it's only £70 (that's $103 so if I sell another 19 poems I've broken even!).  I think I'm going to a couple of writing groups this week so it will be good to learn new things. 

Finally LubyLou was setting up an online book club which I signed up for, and when she realised all of her enthusiasts were Manchester based she decided to make it an actual book club and we're meeting in a week and reading Purple Hibiscus. Lubylou seems to consume books at an alarming rate so I feel like a bit of a novice but I'm definately looking forward to it, and it probably isn't a book I would have read under my own steam so it will be interesting.

This week I realised how badly I cook, and eat vicariously whenever anyone mentions food!  All it takes is for someone to say, 'I'm having bolognese tonight' and I begin a tirade about cooking it slowly, how Italians throw their garlic in whole with the skin on, how pork mince is nice and a dash of red wine vinegar.  I probably mither them for longer than the actual cooking will take!  My housemate is doing a come-dine-with-me compeition with his family and every time I speak to him I try and rework his menu and tweek his technique.  Then  what do I have for tea, almost every night?  yep, a club sandwich.  But who has time to make elaborate meals for themselves?  Please someone comfort me that I'm not the only person in the world who sabotages other peoples cooking and eating (either that or come to my house and give me someone to cook for!)

Back to Work

First of all check out my recent pictures on 365 I'm trying to be more 'artistic', I'm sure there is a term when you take a photograph and make it more into art and less like a snap, but I don't know it.  All I'm doing is adding layers on photoshop and trying to develop pictures into collages.

Above pictures are a shot from the train near Oxford Road Station which I've worked on a bit.

So tomorrow is my first day back at work after the three weeks of Easter, and it feels like a decade, I've worked two different jobs and visted another continent.  That doesn't make it any easier though, it feels like I haven't done my normal job for so long I've forgotten how to tolerate it!

Marrakech left me with some enduring habits it seems, my salmonella scare (raw chicken kebabs) has turned me into a pseudo-vegitarian, and like other pseudo vegitarians I break it only for bacon, (I can't even look at chicken).  I can't seem to drink tea from a cup anymore, unless it has got there via a teapot (poured from a height with an Arabic flourish) and I seem to have become fearless when it comes to busy roads, I need to shake off the Moroccan tactic of crossing one lane at a time and only looking if the next lane is clear when your half way across, (press the crossing-button Dave!!)

So I'm Posting for the sake of posting, although I have made art today and written some stuff I don't really feel like I have anything interesting to share.  Although, I got back from Marrakech to several emails and one of them told me I'd had a poem published!  I would love to post the link to the publishers website but I can't find them, I won't post the poem either because I think they own it now or something, they're sending me a contract.  It's a baby step, and we all know that some babies grow up to be millionaire best selling writers!!  Fingers crossed.

Sunday Afternoon

It seems like summer has just pounced on us

And winter had seemed so endless

Like drowning out of sight of shore -

It feels like summer has just pounced.

But with its light nights and happy dawns

Comes the sadness of every summer

A remembrance of childhood dreams

They never came true – I had faith in them.

Happy Easter to all, the weather's back and I split my time between cowering inside tingling and checking shoulders and forehead in the mirror, and basking gloriously.  I'm reading Fingersmith by Sarah Waters which is amazing and I can't seem to apply myself for very long to anything else.  The poem's very recent, the picture is Pont Nerf in Paris, done in black ink and then altered in photoshop.