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sisters & sparrows

Poetry. Photography. Life.


One friend told me she has no idea what’s going on in my life unless I’m blogging – so – this is for you S.  (Can’t wait for you to get down here for your visit!)

I’m back home which is wonderful so I’ve gone a bit cold turkey on stuff I do at uni – namely, blog, and communicate with people.  I’ve been spending eons of time drinking coffee in the new coffeehouse in town (amazing), walking my brother’s dog Pegs, going jogging (along the river), and sitting in the library, reading, researching, writing, trying to build up the portfolio.  Met up with my first few friends to get back from uni, for lunch at said coffeehouse.  It’s been fun.

The big fat essay on poetry is coming along, stands at about 1000 words, but I need to do a huge chunk of reading before I can get any further.  I’m really getting into it though.  Along the way, I’m reading John Donne, George Herbert, Gerard Manley Hopkins, R S Thomas, Denise Levertov and Michael Symmons Roberts.  Just ordered a book of essays on literature and Christianity which should be really helpful.

Developing a desire for a writer’s room.  Might start badgering my dad to build one in the garden.  Feasible?  Definitely.  Will he do it?  Definitely not.  But you know, nothing asked nothing gained.

Roald Dahl’s room.

Martin Amis’.

Seriously though this series is wonderful, photographed by Eamonn McCabe.  Check it out.

Reading – essays and poems, mostly, at the moment.

At The End

R. S. Thomas

Few possessions: a chair,
a table, a bed
to say my prayers by,
and, gathered from the shore,
the bone-like, crossed sticks
proving that nature
acknowledges the Crucifixion.
All night I am at
a window not too small
to be frame to the stars
that are no further off
than the city lights
I have rejected. By day
the passers-by, who are not
pilgrims, stare through the rain’s
bars, seeing me as prisoner
of the one view, I who
have been made free
by the tide’s pendulum truth
that the heart that is low now
will be at the full tomorrow.

Watching – Downton Abbey with my mum, lent to me by a friend at uni.  We’re on the second episode and already hooked.  My Grandma would be proud.

Listening to – among other stuff, James Vincent McMorrow.  Also this (thanks to Mat for this):


That’s all folks.  I’ll try to post again before the week is out.


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