Because it means something

DSCN0106

“… don’t just paint it red because you like red, or because that’s the only paint left in the store or whatever. Paint it red because it means something. And so every idea, every use has to have a meaning, as well as every cog and every screw.”

This is an extract from an interview with the author Sara Baume, which I read in the Spring 2016 edition of The Moth magazine. It was guidance given to her by a tutor when she was studying her art-based degree.

This really piqued my interest. I try to make every word count, try to excise the superfluous from my writing, but sometimes, I don’t quite manage it. I’m human, after all. Life (the non-writing part) sometimes interferes with my concentration and dedication. Oh, the perils of writing in your spare time – we all know it, right?

Sara Baume is the author of ‘Spill Simmer Falter Wither’ which is a fantastic book. I haven’t quite finished reading it yet, but I adore and admire it greatly. The Guardian describes it as ‘An atmospheric tale about the friendship between one man and his dog’. They are both outsiders, both not quite fitting into the world around them, both have ‘histories’ that shape who they are.

Perhaps I am enjoying it so much because I feel like a complete and utter outsider myself. I do catch myself thinking that unless I’m writing or creating art (a more recent rediscovery of mine), then I’m pretty much acting a part. That I’m not quite shaped for the world around me to fit in quite as I should.

That may be all in my head, but aren’t we all in our heads, to some degree or other?

The novel is lyrical, flows like a river, intriguing, painful, beautiful and heartfelt. And goodness me, the publisher (Tramp Press) made very few changes to the manuscript – such an achievement!

Anyway, choose red because it means something. That seems a decent guideline to live by.

 

Good times – Writing Prompt #161 “Collage 24”

“Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith.” Margaret Shepard

collage-24

“Drink me.”

“Eat me.”

Alice stared at the buffet-laden table. The sausage rolls, the pork pies, the little triangular sandwiches with their crusts cut off, the cheese and pineapple cubes speared on cocktail sticks, the trifle, the jelly, the little clementine segments floating in their sweet, sticky juice, the bottles of cherryade and ginger beer, they grew in size, reached for the ceiling, loomed towards her menacingly. ‘No, no, invitingly’, she forced herself to think up a better word than the one that towered in her mind.

She gulped, panic turning her throat to sandpaper, gluing her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She took slow, steady breaths, just as she had been taught.

“Darling, isn’t this wonderful? All your favourite foods from ‘The Best Christmas Ever!’ Do you remember? We struggled so hard that year, what with your dad on 3 day weeks and no money to speak of, but it was the best one ever, for you. We were so happy!”

“Thanks, Mum,” Alice whispered, clenching her fists, magicking up a smile. Mum was doing her best, they were all doing their best.

She reached for a cheese and pineapple morsel, closed her eyes and took a tiny bite, the cheese clagging itself to the roof of her mouth, the pineapple tang making the back of her jaw tingle with the sweet, acidic bite she had barely thought of in years.

Suddenly, she was transported back in time to the 1970s, to laughter, to fun, to warmth and comfort, to when food was a joy and not a monster to be battled with every day.

‘One bite at a time,’ she thought, her therapist’s words echoing in her ears. ‘One bite at a time.’

 


And this time, thanks to Michael for inspiring me to take part in this prompt, hosted by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. The initial prompt is the quote above, this week form Margaret Shepard, and then to provide more inspiration, we have a little tableaux of beautiful images to ponder as well.

I hope you enjoy my piece and do head on over to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie to read other contributions and… take part!

 

TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – Potpourri

IMG_2368

you remind me of
grandma, her love of soft scents
cocooned in glass bowls

childish joy, fingers
crush desiccated petals –
aromas unleashed!


Thank you to Ritu for posting her entry into TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – she inspired me to take part!

As you can see, potpourri has strong memories for me. In the 1970s, when I was a little girl, it was a ‘big thing’ here in the UK (or at least, that’s my memory). I think there were revivals in the 80s and 90s too. Perhaps now as well, but whatever the case, it reminds me of being little again, which is an absolute delight.

If you enjoy poetry, if you enjoy haiku, if you are intrigued by haiku and what to try writing your own (3 lines, 5-7-5 syllable format), whatever the case, why not take part in TJ’s weekly prompt? I’ve written a few before, courtesy of dVerse, and I love the short, concentrated format, trying to encapsulate so much into so little.