Been slinking away from world again slinking back to bushes undergrowth trying to imagine life without electronics without screens without invisible connections imagine myself Virginia Woolf Keats Alice Oswald sitting next to flower borders at Kew underneath a tree a quill listening to a nightingale in a cold shed ink pen in hand screwed up papers thrown in corners I often suffer from information overload when caught in the net too many things rolling around electronic overdose it’s all too much I turn off the machine go outside you can write better poetry when you are disconnected from electronic stuff people make money from offering retreats in far-flung isolated places no internet they’ve got the right idea people want it the work of MacGillivray her performance pieces listen to her music read her poetry a woman totally rooted in real-worlds totally connected to surroundings to myths stories to music of witch-crafting to memory to history not part of mechanical publishing industries not got caught up in not connected to but howling slinking away to some bush create a métier all her own too easy to get embroiled in flashy outwardmoving to be retracting inwards become anonymous
How strange and exciting it is to invent a new language; to play with snippets of existing words in order to create new words that (may go some way to) describe things you see in nature but struggle to articulate. This is where I feel poetry can move towards painting – by utilising palettes of infinite letter combinations to create a world no longer hampered so much by the limits of language. In fact, I actually went a step further and leant upon painterly vocabulary to write about the leaf litter I came across on my walk last week. I felt like I was mixing a Pre-Raphaelite palette of golds and greens, auburns and ochres, russets and browns; spreading them out here and there over the page and adding some brushstrokes of burnished gold leaf, sunlight-tinted ink.
All for the latest task on the Against English poetry school course.
Funny how sometimes you want to express yourself, really express yourself & it seems so under~whelming, you don’t know where to start & suddenly you believe you can no longer write about anything any more. Funny, isn’t it? i tried late last week to find something to write about for the Against English Poetry School online course. hardest. thing. ever. i have to say.
i have often looked out at the world & really wanted to invent a new language to describe what i saw but when it actually came down to doing it, my oh my – how difficult it proved to be. this time, it wasn’t any easier. i sat thinking & tossing ideas around for a whole day (not an unusual thing for me to do) but then i chanced upon something whilst out walking the dog. All around me the leaves were turning into the most fantastical shades of gold & brown, russet & orange, all mixed up together & creating new & more complex colours; so i set to work …
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter
The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf
Feminism and the Mastery of Nature by Val Plumwood
“One ecofeminist theory is that capitalist values reflect paternalistic and gendered values. In this interpretation effects of capitalism has led to a harmful split between nature and culture. In the 1970s, early ecofeminists discussed that the split can only be healed by the feminine instinct for nurture and holistic knowledge of nature’s processes.”
“A common claim within ecofeminist literature is that patriarchal structures justify their dominance through binary opposition, these include but are not limited to: heaven/earth, mind/body, male/female, human/animal, spirit/matter, culture/nature and white/non-white. Oppression is reinforced by assuming truth in these binaries and instilling them as ‘marvelous to behold’ through religious and scientific constructs.”
~ from Wikipedia.