ColetteB….

not exactly work in progress…


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Having another go at poetry…

Week 5 ‘Ongoing poetry game’ at #ModPo ~ but not sure i’m unblocked from posting poems there yet – dunno what that’s about, clearly i can’t write a poem to save my life!

constraint: to use the ten prompted key words in this thing called ‘ottiva rima’ – and no i won’t capitalise the term! that’s so unnecessary…

i probably failed for not writing in regular meter (should be spelt metre, but it confuses people with measuring! we don’t learn formal meter in general UK population because language does not work like machine code and we’re meant to develop natural language and our humanity!) So this is my first attempt at the challenge and of this particular form:

[untitled, free verse attempting the ‘ottiva rima’ form]

There’s no time for rhyme in a world gone mad why

reckoning while no king – no patriarchy –

bourgeoisie to decline – resist and deny –

our birds tear at torn skies, creatures all born free

determine red – green – gold-blue star upon nigh

– so – little that’s polite in hierarchy

to remind it’s obscene, when facts show as – farced –

so much that’s not true in the present and past.

© Colette Bates, October 2017 All Rights Reserved [usual Fair Use terms apply]

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Taking IT to the cleaners

On the way to readying winter outerwear, I called in for coffee and elevenses and poetry/art elucidation with a wacky artisty friend.

Had she heard…?

Well. No. No, nor me. So that made me feel better then. A bit less ignorant. Good!

Although there might have been a risk of having forgotten to get out of slippers and looking alike somewhere crossed between Michelin Man and Sulley from Monsters Inc in my onesy over half a dirty dozen of underwear layers hiding middle-age spread and bloomers of all things keeping me nice and warm without even a coat on yet, on my way home with shopping I got some snaps away from the yard for a change.

“Ruth Lechlitner” I’d said. She’d launched into stilts and Glastonbury remembrances and we paid no heed of either’s lack of attention for the other’s aside reflections.

Then something dawned. Noted. And forgotten.

On a scrappy coffee-stained notepad page she’d passed me this to bring home and ‘prove IT’ … she can write a ‘N0 Chance Operation’ poem from thin air too.

“yes, of course I can post it as soon as I’m… well, if I forget while passsing, it’s not that far to a post-box, really, is it!”

Do you know it’s still wherever I left it when i arrived through my door. hopelessly…

… and now two days later and hasn’t time flown as if it were only yesterday and I didn’t even put it on SPD for the pair of them! So here’s a poem from an anonymous no-one of some of ours esteem (posted with permission, guaranteed, special delivery, first class)

Repeat after me to write, leaving the left Sleeve in the uptight no fear don\\ ‘ t fight many small prediction can\\ ‘ t right rear sight site courtesy site mercy no mercy Now

I didn’t see who the translating helper was. A Ukranian virtual assistant in another virtual part of our world I believe. I’ve no idea of the poetic presentation but it’s as agreed a single line and in one breath. There may be countless versions of various poetic essences and deliveries in the making anytime durign the next century or three. We’re all such snails and so unconcerned for any rush “even if the whole world depends on IT…” is apparently our next elevenses workshopping writing prompt to prepare and be ready with.

Now did i drop my dry cleaning receipt on my way home? No idea. did I slip through one of them odd angle portals and I’m sure I was still in Nottingham or did I step out in Portsmouth in error? And without even realising…

here I am forgetting to post one of my several ModPo reflective poems from readings last week around Gertrude Stein, Jon Peale Bishop, and Dada, including the amazing and wonderful Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven and her fantastic rebuke “A dozen cocktails – please” (maybe I should’ve capitalised, can’t remember and can’t be bothered to check…

in a hurry then

So far untitled while i’m working on Lechlitner and trying not to be too LOLling around as things to make and do like afternoon tea and fooding for dinner…

a poem (all mine, of course – Modern poetry, aka #ModPo and so:

~~

even Stevens starts again

red w’ther days P’cock tales

back when

~~

w-hoosy-wore the trewzees

Willy win a skirt

wonderful when wars end wi’none of’em gettin’ g’hurt

~~

cure it as y’cuss it

calm it while y’can

can ‘e call a cuppa cold contagion conception

~~

zuccini in a zeppelin?

Zoology in zeal

zany zee-zee-zeeing x-o-phobic de’ts-z’ept’s. Reel.

© Colette Bates, October 2017 All Rights Reserved

(of course free to share! aren’t we all zillybillyGoatsGruff about IT! doesn’t that usually mean for personal and education use only and Fair Use always being applicable?)

I forgot to post a pic! Random grab from my snaps quick then…

Not so random actually… and although I do love my WordPress-iNG…. well, you can sometimes find me #skywatching elsewhere, like my latest post here: coleebeatsabout.blogspot.co.uk

One day IT will all make better sense… (tbc/ to be contd.)


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Remembrance

I was deeply saddened this morning while trawling my email notifications to arrive at my copy of a June posting allegedly made by the sister of a respected blogging acquaintance/virtual-neighbour, Paul M********, a US citizen believed to be working and living in or around New York.

While attempting to pick up my lingering blogging habit I’d realised I’d not seen anything from Paul’s blog (www.palfitness.wordpress.com) in quite a while. So I’d dredged back through multitudes of links in my email inbox to find a trace.

Paul was a generous creative spirit and as well as posting on fitness he composed poetry and shared lots of interesting reblogs leading readers to other blogs he admired. The notice apparently posted by his sister informed his followers of the very sad news that Paul had died of undetermined circumstances on 29th May 2017. I have to assume that the poster claiming to be his sister was genuine and that the information is authentic. Unfortunately Paul’s blog has been deleted and perhaps that is in keeping with his wishes.

(Personally I feel it’s outrageous that relatives left behind might choose to delete a person’s online presence and remove their traces from the virtual world. I hope no-one is ever legally allowed to do that to my stuff even if it embarrasses the hell out of them! That’s not meant as a jibe to Paul’s family – nor my own – were they even to be reading, which I doubt.)

I deeply regretted not seeing that notification earlier, nor his more recent  blog posts leading up to that date. Paul had been encountering very difficult circumstances securing employment and navigating the pitfalls of temporary accommodation and some of his posts had eluded to himself and his friends/associates being victims of crimes including theft and violence against them. Quite sometime before Paul had spoken out against an incident of online bullying among/affecting specific members of the international online community and hopefully those individuals engaged in trolling etc had no bearing on the difficulties he encountered nor his sad demise nor the circumstances of his death as reported in that post claiming to be from his sister. Maybe we’ll never know the truth and that’s a sad reality for so very many peoples suffering the intolerable blights of a troubled world.

It’s four months to the day that Paul last posted to his personal blog. That feels such a long time to have passed before realising he was gone. His presence will be sadly missed but fondly remembered by many of those he interacted with online, even though we probably remain ‘strangers’.

How do you remember Paul?

I can’t say I knew Paul closely at all but I’ll remember him for his poetry and his spreading goodwill and positivity and his good sense of humour.

Below is  a screenshot of Paul’s penultimate six-word story found in the backlog of email notifications in my inbox this morning:

Remembrance-PaulMcaleavey-dec29052017~q

 

Yes, he was known to sometimes occasionally have vented emotionally-vexed rants on his personal blog. Many of us using personal blog spaces and/or social media might be likely to write out our rants now and then. We’re all hopefully human, after all. Better out than in, as we might say. Some of Paul’s posts during the last few months had been deeply concerning and it’s awful to not be able to help people when they seem in need. However he always seemed to bounce back and never gave up trying. New York must be an awfully difficult place to sustain everyday living. I don’t know why anyone would ever choose to go there as a tourist given the problems tourism is causing there and elsewhere.

Yes, Paul once quite rightfully called another blogger a ‘bitch!’ as she undoubtedly was. Yes she was getting away with some hideously insulting and outrageous behaviours. Yes he was condemned by some for his ‘outburst’ and refusing to tolerate such social injustices on behalf of another blogger who Paul had chosen to stand up for in their absence and for using such an innocuous regularly used word as ‘bitch’ in response to a deeply insulting remark made against him that was edited before other readers came across the conversation. That bitch hadn’t realised another online reader was present witnessing her attack in the moment of it happening and that it hadn’t been the first occasion but a repeated deviance preying on the vulnerabilities of others. Maybe I shouldn’t dredge it up here. Paul would worry for my own personal safety in alluding to it, given that bitches’ alleged reputation for dangerous trouble-making. She might also happen to be a well-respected and influential member of blogging communities / professional circuits.

And it might all have been hot air blown cold a long time ago. Murky waters under someone else’s shoddy bridge. So it’s time to let sleeping dogs lie then, maybe, cos bitches like that one might never lose a case they can pay through the nose for and can carry on regardless.

Paul, aka Palfitness, apparently gone, but not forgotten. R.I.P. Sincere belated condolences to Paul’s family and friends in light of their sad loss.

 

 

 

 


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Doodling for a freewriting…(repost plus)

I still haven’t made any drawing but I doodled this earlier… and might make something of it elsehow and some other way(s) some other time…(NoteToSelf!) The doodle had to get itself out before I got on with a twenty-minute timed freewriting excercise around the question to task:

I write because there is no easy answer – no easy answers – no quick fix. Perhaps no fix it at all. Maybe nothing’s broken. Everything drifts. Sometimes to drift around uncertain shores is fine. Sometimes. Sometimes, to drop anchor, get it down, find my bearings – I should have found them before – but […]

via Another grey area — (my post at sWishingUp, …

…where I’m posting my #EverydayInspiration responses and working through #IntermediateCustomisation tasks.(I changed the theme, to another clunky one I don’t see often these days and I’m keeping it there for the next three weeks at least while I do this writing ‘class’).

I did both these #BloggingU classes in September2015 but was very messy and scatterbrained about it. I need to try and keep or make things neat and tidy…

So, I’ve signed up again, inspired and encouraged by my blogging neighbour, Sarah to Have Fun Learning some more and also to keep Blogging for Fun – (I just love those taglines she chose for her blogs) and as I haven’t found my scrap of paper with ‘pumpkin pie’ on it to submit for Sarah’s challenge, I’m writing an ad hoc new one in the here and now… here goes…

Does it have to be a haiku? I might try Autumn leaves, while Spring’s just round the corner, no signs of winter inbetween. That’s 29 syllables you see, though if I removed the first question, with eight syllables, then I’d only need to drop four more… and in adjusting that sentence… my haiku:

Where went wintertime

while Spring’s around the corner

Autumn leaves remain

Well, autumn leaves are still blowing around the yard and the pavements beyond. We have had some frost. I’ve seen real solid ice formations all of twice and the tiniest sprinkle of very temporary powdery-snow once and crystalised-ice-drops two or maybe three times. Autumn seemed to continue very slowly with the trees hanging on to leaves as long as they could possibly manage and dropping only a few at a time and winter hasn’t really seemed to get here. Although I do have all of two snowdrops in my backyard, as I posted yesterday at theWishingWell in Farewell February, Onward March

How’s the weather doing in your part of the world? and/or How are you doing? (now there’s another phrase I’ve not heard in ages…) 


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#Author-story ~ Contemporary Writer #3

John Berger, born 5th November 1926, died 2nd January, 2017

berger-cw-authorstory-img1

There’s something in this page shown above that is very resonant of work seen during British Art Show7 in 2011, particularly those shown at Nottingham Castle. So maybe one day I’ll tie up some loose threads and get something down. For now, this post is a re-working of a draft from January that was almost lost to the ether in some kind of failing / crash.

Why ‘Ways of Seeing’?

[Originally, I drafted this writing for an ‘Authors who made history’ post for BW so this fact was pivotal:]

For many years now, John Berger’s book, ‘Ways of Seeing’, has been on the compulsory reading list of almost every British art and design course. I’d either somehow missed that fact back in my art student daze, or glanced it over and dismissed it out of hand. During a W.E.A. class a few years ago now (how time flies!) I spent a while browsing this book in the gallery reading room. I still couldn’t quite see WHY is it such an important text in relation to appreciating or creating art? Sadly, I remained completely oblivious to his other works as a poet, writer and artist until researching for this post following news of his death.

I appreciated it- ‘Ways of Seeing’ –  better, from a distance, via some limited preview chapters in an online PDF. The book was developed following the BBC’s four-part television series presented by John Berger and credited with changing the way the nation received, or thought about, art and art history.  I had never even heard mention of the television programme until I saw it was the basis of the book. Apparently the programme may be available to purchase as a video download, although even so these days UK viewers will still need a TV licence. I don’t know if that means such products are with-held from consumers elsewhere in the world.

It’s said to be based on and influenced by Walter Benjamin’s essay ‘The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction[wikipedia link].

“The most uplifting thing about Ways of Seeing is Berger’s optimism about the age of the mass-circulating reproduced image, which, back in 1972, meant images in newspapers and magazines, on advertising hoardings and television. These days of course it also means on Facebook, Instagram and the internet at large. …”

[quoting Jonathon Jones in his article discussing Berger’s language of images at The Guardian, published 3rd January, 2017]

Here’s a small excerpt from page 150 of Ways of Seeing, where, in relation to publicity, Berger tells us:

“…The world smiles at us. It offers itself to us. And because everywhere is imagined as offering itself to us, everywhere is more or less the same.”

In the BBC Radio 4 programme, Front Row, broadcast 3rd January 2017, writer/broadcaster Lisa Appignanesi and art critic Richard Cork discuss Berger’s work (audio file still available to listen at time of writing opens, at approx. 21minutes with an audio clip of John Berger speaking. The second link skips to that segment, or to see programme info and listen to the whole 28min+ click the first link.

 

After serving two years with the army from 1944 to 1946, assumedly compulsory conscription, in the late 1940s Berger trained as an artist at the Chelsea School of Art and the London School of Art; he exhibited in London and taught drawing until 1955. His first novel, ‘A Painter of Our Time’ was published in 1958 and his first published collection of essays, ‘Permanent Red’, in 1960. Among other awards in his lifetime, he is probably best known for controversially donating half his Booker Prize fund to the Black Panther Party after his novel ‘G’ was selected for the prize in 1972.

“For me there were too many political urgencies to spend my life painting. Most urgent was the threat of nuclear war – the risk of course came from Washington, not Moscow.”

John Berger quoted in an article by Michael Glover published at the Independent on 3rd January, 2017.

There are lots of articles about John Berger to be found online and the British Library archive for John Berger and the wikipedia entry for his bio and list of works could keep me (or you) .out of mischief for an interesting while enough.

I haven’t yet bought a copy of ‘Ways of Seeing’, I’m still thinking about it, maybe until one shows up at a knock-down price I can’t refuse. I did however buy Berger’s 2016 book, ‘Confabulations'[ISBN:9780141984957], published in October by Penguin shortly before Berger turned 90 years of age, sadly not in time to help the old man out with some return. I might well journey in exploration of those delightful writings, and more, another time.

A final quote to close, from the first page of the text in John Berger’s Ways of Seeing, at page 7:

“The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled. Each evening we see the sun set. We know that the earth is turning away from it. Yet the knowledge, the explanation, never quite fits the sight.” [John Berger, Ways of Seeing]

 

 


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memento

sam_2674

I bought this in Radford in a junk shop  almost 30 years ago – glad my housemates didn’t think it worth stealing when they ransacked my room while in hospital having my caesarean not long after (and glad I took my ID etc with me too but didn’t stop them causing shit later!

A couple of weeks ago at BW, Pam raised a prompt topic that is difficult to leave alone. I made a start at one of my other blogs here with  a post series in waiting for ‘The Memory of Things’.and thing is, I might have been posting still for transcript with my sketches of Snarl/Gnarl city girls sculpture I went to see once upon a time. But my electricity provider is being hopelessly problematic and today it’s been a whole week since alerting them to the need for help as a disabled customer. They know all this and can leave me for a week making a couple of days electricity last. It doesn’t help my health at all. I know that seems really selfish while millions are having to manage with far less in devastated circumstances!

So I’m still failing better than ever and will bigots and prejudiced twots please take a look at their own failings before judging and condemning innocent paying customers unfortunately dependent on so called welfare. Currently still at risk of the culling spree our government and local authority and public/private enterprise staff seem compelled to inflict. hopefully I can manage to make a call but I’ve been awake all night and might not make it with no coffee. Interference with even my grocery shopping and stores willing to deliver a camp stove but only if you can go in to collect the small gas canisters while bedbound is just flipping ridiculous!

AAAAH! England is such a shit-hole! No human rights for anyone unless they’re either a criminal OR if they can afford legal services! Anyone never read the Beveridge report? reads just like everything they say about Hitler! And now I won’t be able to post the student news cutting about the devastation we caused to Germany in WW2 while I mustn’t mention Hitler again?!!!


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Whatever is this Dark Net thing?

I know I’m a silver surfer when I have no idea what such things as ‘the Dark Net’ mean! I could try and guess. I sometimes wonder if it’s just the huge wodge of tagging some people apply at their blog posts to deter the search engines from picking up their stuff. I’d hedge a small bet (a spent match! not a button nor bean!) that I am most likely incorrect.

This is not a dark net. This my beautiful bathroom window by natural evening light. (It is an authentic eco-house for real! And I am grateful, of course!)

SAM_2598.JPG

And that [above!] is the best shot I got of the moon in ages. Taken from the inside, naturally. Not using flash, no lighting, just the moon lighting its way, piercing my dark net – you can see it needs a wash perhaps, but you need sunlight to see it and i’m waiting for the cleaning fairies springing along. Surely.

I am aware it is not a good photo, conventionally. But I love it as ‘documentation’. Is my excuse.And. I have worse subject matter of similar shit nothing alike ‘photography’.

I avoid conventions. Mostly. I just can’t do can do kind of things …

It was either a full moon this evening, or it was almost a full moon. Scientifically, I’m often a day ahead or behind the actual day. Similarly i’m usually naturally awake for sunrise at solstice a day or four ahead of the given day too. I don’t mind when I see a sunrise as long as I see one, or some. (Paganism is rooted in ancient native enslavement, so I just don’t believe…! I don’t mean to be offensive with that remark for being so pale!)

Seeing sunrise, the more often the better, however mundane and unspectacular my actual view of it might be. It’s just in the moment. It’s all there really is that ever seems anything of value at all, the wonder of mundane moments. There is nothing in the world worth more than one of those ‘wow’ moments as the field of light suddenly changes everything before your eyes, (but that’s not mundane, that’s glorious!) or the glimpse of light or shadow from a bird enters the interior space through a closed window and makes you jump of a sudden right out of your skin. that’s not mundane either. It’s nature’s reminder to not be scared of anything.

I didn’t imagine the phases of the moon seem to have passed double-speed. Did I miss understanding the ‘supermoon’ a few weeks back too? Only seven days ago I caught the halfmoon in a snap. Or is it usual this time of year for a half moon to take  a week? I should’ve paid attention better at school, apparently. But we keep getting history all wrong and passing it off as fact so who’d care about natural sciences and stuff when we could just be told and then so BELIEVE…

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Right up my street, with a tiny half moon, a straggle of hair? left, and luckily not a cracked lens! You can’t quite see that half-moon, but it was! (5th January, 2017, away to shop!)

We do seem to have bypassed winter, unless it’s just around the corner awaiting Eastertide. Or maybe I hibernated and everyone pretended to still be having that Xmas thing really just so I didn’t miss out… but I’m not going there, so until Easter…

Don’t get me wrong we have had some ice – I got to see all of less than one days worth so far this winter of this much significance…

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A stalagmite type icicle … how? Jack frost stay round my yard all night making that happen for me? Trickster dumpstering over the fence adhering it to the lid? Goodness knows, the cctv saw nothing that night! Otherwise: just my compost bin supporting ramshackle fence

I like rubbish to snaps, but that ice soon melted so no need to break it off. Very glad I don’t have a windscreen to scrape. I’ve noticed poor fellas doing that maybe three mornings so far, over 12 weeks (months numbered?) – but twice just for frost and a bit over dramatic and not quite matching terrain. Maybe they faced a different way. They were the other side, a bit down the beaten track at some small distance.

Rattling on, I seen the weirdest excuse for art somewhere this evening [says she whom makes rubbish excuses for art and creativity here! there! not at all all over!] and I wish I could remember but my history’s cleared again! it is a sod! when that happens… oh yeah, dodgy rattle tails and unethical pictorial use – except it looked like plastic or dough construction toy and more than a bit deer, at a guess. You’d have to hope no-one nowhere in the world would be such a desperado as to excuse ‘art’ for such animosity and selfish ignorance. [Says… !] Even the suggestion is offensive.

Oh and some funny Weber reminders with not enough full stops. Then there was the reminders of newspaper balls and composting – guess that’s why my bin lid in this post has to have a place!

Today wasn’t uneventful. Particularity. Spelt it wrong! Particlary. Peculiarly. Oh my days! I will remember! The sky changed more quickly than I could keep pace and it never stops. There was no rain, just the threat of some. Momentary. Once upon a time…

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If you visited my yard, you might never believe this really is my very own view! (unedited snap taken 11th January2017, from my doorstep)