Poets respond to Metropolis: the city inspiring art inspiring writing…

I’ve been venturing into the slightly daunting world of poetry the last few weeks. Here’s some pieces (including one of mine) created in response to some of the wonderful artwork at the RBSA gallery in Brum:

Source: Poets respond to Metropolis: the city inspiring art inspiring writing…

(PS. Spoz’s rather entertaining gargoyle story at the end is worth hanging on through my weird piece!)

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Resistance

I appreciate it’s not a new topic in relation to writing, but I’ve recently started a meditation series on Acceptance (via the Headspace app), which, rather than pushing you towards accepting a situation, reflects on how you are resisting certain changes, relationships etc.

On a personal level this has helped tremendously. My grandmother died very suddenly a month ago. She was such a wonderfully kind, loving woman, and such a big part of our lives for many years, not to mention one of the most active, lively octogenarians around, that her death was (and still is) an intense shock. Realising how much denial I’m in, how much I’m resisting the idea of losing her, is starting to lift that shock a little and help me begin to grieve.

I’ve realised how much I’m resisting other, more subtle parts of my life. The children are growing up, my youngest properly starting to grow out of the toddler phase. I never thought I’d be sad to have him sleep through the night (still not a guaranteed event), but as it turns out, I miss cuddling up to the little foot gouging at my ribs, and I’m not sleeping as well as a result. My eldest recently turned five, and (always the headstrong-teenager, even as a baby), is enjoying asserting herself and pushing all the boundaries with her new-found little girl understanding. All this will change, or I will change with it, but I’d forgotten that, as with all things child-related, the change will be smoother and faster if I work with it, rather than fighting every step.

There’s resistance with work: Finally deciding to give up teaching, only to be pulled back in with a contract that fits too neatly around my other commitments to say no (plus we need the money!). Feeling sucked back in to something that drains me to the detriment of my health and my family is scary, as is knowing I’ll have to re-evaluate again once this job comes to an end. I hate it, and I hate feeling like I have no choice (I know I do, but realistically, I don’t).

Finally, there’s resistance with my writing. The impact of everything else going on in life, plus a self-consciousness as I go through my Masters degree that have made the words stick. Pulling them out a sentence at a time for a workshop a few weeks back was like walking through tar. I need to scrap most of those, so am conscious I still need to get 10k good words together for the deadline in a month and a half. And I know most of what I have is rubbish, but I don’t know what to do to improve it.

But I know this. So I’m hoping that by letting myself relax, by letting the story come in its own time, I’ll get there. I’ve had a couple of bursts over the last week. Only minor ones, a paragraph or two, but shifting the work in ways I’m happier with. So fingers crossed I’ll have a few more of these (hopefully longer ones!), and I’ll be able to get there.

If not, the beginning of May is going to be a long week of pulling teeth words!