(Friday, 18th February, 2011)

“Help, I’m alive. My heart keeps beating, like a hammer.”

- Emily Haines

Despite the sheer random selection process which gave birth to it, my poem for the Writer’s Workshop seminar actually ended up being quite good. I found myself really wanting to create the scene where the poem was & the whole thing felt really, believable, if that’s the right word.

I managed to come up with this scenario where two people, a man & a woman, were at a museum. Together, they both gazed at this beautiful vase that was on display, as it slowly turned around on the display turntable. To cater for the needs of the word ‘overwhelming’, I decide to go with the idea that a moment of true spontaneous delight occurred as the both looked on at this vase. I felt like it was one of those moments where you have an epiphany; the kind of moment when you & someone you care about both realise that your appreciation for this inanimate object mirrors the way you both feel about each other. I was really pleased with how I’d captured the whole thing & it went down really well with the rest of the writer’s in the seminar. Not bad for a lad who supposedly hates poetry, eh?

It was more work after that, as me & the rest of the Creative Project group got together for another meeting, looking to compile our individual scenes to create our film’s script, in its entirety. The only snatch was that I had left my memory stick at home, which meant showing off my efforts was not to be on the cards. Nevertheless, we all got up to speed on where we were up to and formed an action plan ready for the shooting that would take place next week.

I went home & found myself with little to do after the excitement of what felt like a real, working day. I spent some time chilling with the flatmates, & watching the odd episodes of this & that, then after my day had completely fizzled out, I found myself sitting on Katy’s PS2, reuniting myself once more with the old faithful, Crash Bandicoot. Safe to say I didn’t move from my perch until about two in the morning, at which point I had square eyes & an extremely wired mind.

Three hours later I was still awake, having been too functional to sleep, despite having drawn a design for a potential future tattoo to try and tire my mind out. I decided to ring my Dad in Canada, knowing fine well that he would definitely be awake for a chat, which could well do the trick & put me to sleep (no disrespect on his crack, of course).True to form he was up & we spoke for an hour, having a catch up life & all that jazz. Finally, at six o’clock in the morning, I managed to clock out for the day…

THD.

(Thursday, 17th February, 2011)

“Lazy days calling to you: 'Come out to play'… the future lies with you.”

- Robbie Williams

The day when nothing happened; that’s how I’d sum this one up.

I spent the entire day waiting for the plenary to come around at five o’clock. I did manage to use the time to work on my script for the Creative Project, which was relieving because the previous day’s attempts had certainly made me question my capabilities.

Finally, after transportation in the evermore familiar taxi service that is the Mellow Yellow Mobile, the five o’clock plenary had arrived; and what a waste of time it was. Having anticipated a good session of learning from another experienced writer, fate decided to deal me a set of cards that were definitely lacking in man-power. Instead of the enriching my life with some more fruitful knowledge about the literary world, they decided it would be a good idea to let a group do their Creative Project, which happened to be a mock-version of ‘one minute’, or something along those lines. ‘Money well spent’, I thought.

So after a day of disappointments, it was back home to work on some poetry for Friday’s seminar. I had to construct a ‘terza rima’ (that’s a type of poem, apparently) about an overwhelming vase. Random, I know, but such are the mysterious ways in which Mimi Thebo works.

Nothing much else to report unfortunately; here’s to tomorrow being a bit more fulfilling.

THD.