I have a mind to say thank you to Patricia Donegan for her book haiku mind. Every day during this period of isolation I have read one of her collected 108 haikus and then written my response.
They are not yet all typed up, today was number 21 Seeing, but yesterday I did show Adversity to our Monday Morning Writer’s Cafe.
I don’t know what Patricia would make of me using her work for inspiration, all I can tell you is that it really is a wonderful, awakening presence for me. The book was a present from our friends Sheri and John. It is a gift which is being used every day during this mad outbreak.
What do they say: be careful what you wish for. Well if I had to wish I would wish this gift of inspiration to every writer, not necessarily haiku mind, but whatever it could be that each day would make your writing inspired.
Extend the deadline. Wait for the story. We’ve found society. With the hope of glory
Thanks I’m afraid to say more to Boris than to Eddie Vedder, either way I was uplifted, also with the Procul Harum bathtime playlist which gave me Jennifer Eccles by The Hollies, then Man of the World by Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, followed by Days by The Kinks.
I was fortunate to live through such a rich era of music, which even today, in these troubling times still seems relevant and inspiring. Let it always be so.
Every day it seems more and more uplifting posts arrive onto my social media links than ever before, today it was the https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fhardcoreitalianmusic%2Fvideos%2F618352069020011%2F&show_text=0&width=268” target=”_blank” rel=”noopener”>Italian boys with their violins followed by Coronavirus Rhapsody. May this wonderful trend continue.
I myself am seriously wallowing in nostalgia by cataloguing my poems from 2004 onwards. The last three weeks have seen me complete and upload to Kindle my 2006 work. At this rate, it will be quite a race as to whether I finish before the virus is under control.
Should I change book 1 to match books 2 and 3? My lack of concentration, even with a fairly extensive use of meditation alarms me. Talking of meditation, this has been a good week, possibly the highlight was Thursday evenings Meditate with Adam which concluded with handclapping for the NHS.
My older brother, possibly thanks to reading our attempts at writing, tells me that he is thinking of writing a book. Actually, he is way more intellectual than me so should I be surprised that he wants to write about slavery.
He emails me …
The main need I have is lack of knowledge of the subject. I have already found the friend of Karl Marx who lived in 10 Thompson’s Buildings, Bradford. He was Friedrich Engels, a German philosopher and benefactor of Karl Marx and his book Condition of the working class in England seems to be central to my subject. So the next job is trying to find it.
The overall framework of the book will consist of a suggested philosophy, based on examples of abuse of workpeople of all ages, within my timeframe.
My oldest son sent me a photograph of a pub colloquially known as the White Door, although the door looks black to me. It was my home for a short while when we first moved to Holmfirth. He also sent me a link to a local history site with which I was amused by for quite some time.
What a beautiful morning, the fourth or fifth or sixth day in a row when we have woken to a strong frost and to brilliant bright sunshine. Yet 12 years ago we had snow at this time of year, as our sepia phone photograph from March 2008 validates:
Now we live in delivery times; Waitrose, Stevenson the greengrocers, Amazon the everything, all tread our path to the summer house, which has been lovingly restored since the photograph.
We are keeping well by writing, meditating, zooming, skypeing, choiring, posting; though not yet writing and sending letters, but surely that will come soon, for the postman also treads our path.
Today we found out that our local greengrocers will deliver fresh fruit and vegetables. If they had done this, or let us know that they did this, before the coronavirus outbreak I am sure we would have used their services.
Anyway, we have placed our order. Tomorrow they will tell us the cost when everything is weighed up, we will pay, then they will deliver tomorrow afternoon. What do the meerkats say!
Yesterday was Monday Morning Writers Cafe, Tonight it is Meditation, Friday Morning Poet’s Salon is on Friday morning and this is my poem: Far away we are here now. Ukulele is out of my hands but it is imminent.
What did Pangloss say… It is for the best, in the best of all possible worlds.
The bright bright sunlight streams through the window, casting strong strong shadows on walls and floors. It is so alive that I am drawn to go out into the garden. There is so much life and vitality that I am left with no option but to share it with you, online.
And as I type this the song Sunday Morning’s Going Down flashes into my mind, was it by Kris Kristoffersen. I suggested this to myself because I had just listened to a Bob Dylan track Love Minus Zero which was being used to highlight a dharma talk.