post retreat post

The retreat was wonderful, I stayed and really appreciated the long periods of silence and no communication, looking out at the mill race and going to sleep to the background of water roaring over stone.  No demands of the object, no sense of domestic intrusion or other things to do.  I started to work more concentratedly and the evenings, after lovely dinners, we all met together to share our writing of the day.  This was the very best part of everything for me, after missing the interaction with the Falmouth poets so much.  We talked intensively, listened very hard, suggested, amended, embraced each other literally and through our work.  I sent off to Rialto Nature competition and to Southport and best of all had an audience that really helped me to see what I was doing with Ha Noi 2000.  The downside has been coming back with very bad arthritis that has settled in my neck and head and makes it impossible to think, write or even read.  Tonight the first night I have been able to think of writing on the computer and already I realise that I must stop soon.  Frustrating to now want so much to write, feel like I can do it and then physically find it impossible to actually use the computer or look at the screen.  The upside of this – I sat and listened for a long time to Bach on Radio 3 – not able to distract myself with any other activity I entered the music in a way that I hadn’t experienced before.  I learned something there certainly.  Now I have learned how long I can type for and it is now time to finish.

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4 Comments

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4 responses to “post retreat post

  1. I’m so sorry you’re having a painful time – K and S were here earlier, and told us of your problem. I hope the retreat outcome compensated for the pain!

  2. june jefferies

    Hullo darling, Poor old girl. Nothing so wearying as constant pain. I know I am a mind reader but it would clarify things if you said what retreat and where.
    Ahhhhh Bach. I wrote my best essay to Menuhin’s unaccompanied preludes.
    Now playing a second violin in a nice competent amateur string quartet. I also get to ride the ferry for twenty minutes each way on the blue pacific. (Blue for the first time this spring!)Be careful with the fat content of your delicious Normandy diet . Hard on the body.Lots of love june

  3. june jefferies

    dammit, I should have read the previous blog. It;s me again. Thank you for the references-I will see what our library can do and if not send ina request to the poetry prof. in the English department who also plays the violin.
    I loved Isabels’ piece. rain is a way of life here. I fCaptain Malaspina hadn’t been totally repulsed by the endless wet this island might have been Spanish speaking for the last 2 centuries. But today is perfect. and I have planted spuds, tomorrow rhubarb and greens.

  4. really sorry to hear about the pain. Really really sorry. Hope it goes away. Listen to June, don’t eat too much dairy!
    Bach sounds very good. I went to a very modern opera by Wolfgang Rihm, about a man who was briefly a friend of Goethe before G threw him off, who goes mad in a marsh of wetness, oppressed by visions of strictly censorious Germanic Lutheran villagers in stiffly starched lace collars, and laced bodices, which causes him in the opera to have to plunge into pits of (apparently warmed) water. A stalwart performance by the singer having to sing while drenched throughout most of the performance. Water, water, everywhere. In bogofarlo, in the opera, in Vancouver…
    The mad man was a poet who is driven as mad by the dull wittedness of the literal minded villagers, as by the sophisticated emptiness of the intellectual fopperie. Not a fate I wish upon les mesdames poetiques de la Normandie. Be dry, o poetesses!

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