I hope life is as sweet as a mango for you today as I sit here in glorious Birmingham sunshine. I’ve just iplayered that Milton programme with Armando Ianucci from last weds on BBC2….and it was fascinating. If you’ve not yet seen it, do so now then come back here and carry on reading! Just before it, I’d  read a pompous piece by Giles Coren (http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/giles_coren/article6390720.ece) about how no one cares about poetry anymore, which mainly referenced Oxford University people like himself as proof of that… but as I and no one in my social circle have had the Oxbridge experience I think he’s a bit out of touch with the real world beyond his privileged position. His Dad was a famous writer and broadcaster, so Giles will have grown up in a house with certain literary assumptions that those of us who grew up in houses with few books beyond a dictionary and a copy of the TV times and AA road map of Britain do not have as our background references. My definition of poetry has nothing to do with an exclusive literary club. The best poetry gigs I’ve been to have been in pubs/bars/festivals and I’ve taken mates who work on building sites along who’ve had a blast. The kind of poetry that’s got me and my non Oxbridge contemporaries excited lives very much in the real world.

I could lie and say the dog ate my words, like homework when you were a kid…. but I won’t. I could say my laptop’s poorly and needs a few days in hospital to recover….. but I won’t.

However I will get my excuse in early, just noticed that I’m supposed to post two big blogs on the same day tomorrow here – but as I’m working all day, have a gig tonight, with the mighty Dreadlock Alien, Spoz and Emma Pursehouse…(still learning my lines of a few new pieces ready to lose their virginity tonight, so have a head like a washing machine full of jumbled up words – you know that feeling!) then have to catch a 7am train to Manchester tomorrow for 72hrs working…. and not taking my laptop with me …. so I won’t be online to blog here till monday – so apologies, but words will flood out then belatedly I promise.

With all the talk of mentors and mentees on here, I keep thinking we need to buy packets of mentos sweets and bottles of coke to do that fountain thing I keep seeing……

Graham Kershaw is a brilliant portrait painter who specialises in ‘Poetraits’… he’s done loads of top poets like Ruth Padel, Roger Mcgough, and lots of Brummy ones, and I was in line  this week – a surreal experience, as I was holding the 2 objects I’d chosen to represent me and my work – so a mango in one hand, and a bohdisattva in the other….. then he painted my eyes out, but has assured me they’ll be back in soon:) Mentor Jo Bell is next on friday, so will report more – although one of her objects is her narrowboat – she’ll be on Channel 5’s Britain’s Strongest woman if she can carry that in one hand! I told her we stripped naked on a bearskin rug for the portrait, but I think she knew I was just tripping…..  Now we’ve got to write a self portrait poem about the experience to go with an animated version of the pictures – all very technical, will let you know more when it’s finished. Have you written a self portrait poem before? It does seem like a running theme for visual and verbal artists…. so type in a link to any of yours online, I’d like to read some more……  I think mine might be called, ‘So I am a girl after all.’

Just wanted to mention a programme on Channel 4 on saturday night that I saw at my friend’s house – it was brilliant. I think it’s called the Big Art Project, and it’s a series about how various groups of people around the uk are making choices about what public art they want to see in their local area. They’ll be commissioning and planning it all. A group of school children in Burnley want their town to be known for something other than the race riots, and were exploring the idea of a hidden underground town created with ‘invisible’ paintings that come into life with a UV light on, a group of ex miners want a monument to the past but that looks to the future, residents in Cardigan are looking at an incredible idea combining sound and words with light globes on a river that you’d have to see to get the idea of! Too complicated to explain, but my friend’s kids loved the concept and want to make one of their own now!

Lots of different people having a vision about how art can impact upon their patch. It was great to hear the artists they’re considering for these huge mulitmillion pound projects talking about how they need to get a sense of the place and understand what it feels like before they can come up with ideas. One artist planned to live for a few weeks with his family on the isle of Mull … so I think it has a lot in common with our project in terms of getting a sense of place. Worth watching online and if there are any other episodes still left, I saw a bit of one the previous week too…. and check out the cooling towers saga…..

If someone asked you what two items essential to your writing process, what would they be? Supposing laptops/pen and paper are forbidden….  There’s a portrait painter who’s doing a series of work on some New York and Brummy poets, and we’ve all got to bring two items to go into the picture with us. So what am I going to take? A mango? Some chocolate? A buddha? A mug of tea? Massage oil? A banjo or some pyjamas?! I don’t know… but divulge what yours would be on the comments please:)

I know this entry is a day late, but I’m in the middle of working 14 days in a row in radio, and had to go straight to London last night from the studio to have dinner with 24 other radio mates from around the UK who get together every few months. We call it a ‘nerd night out’! Top crew of people, and like most writers I know, interesting, funny people who are talented but genuinely down to earth and without huge ego. One of those nights out that still makes you smile the morning after remembering the things your friends have said, and the scandalous stories that I can’t type here without libel lawyers on my case!

Anyway, it’s been a mad busy week, and I’ve not had time to do much on the WBA project apart from thinking/daydreaming ideas if you know what I mean. (And adding post it notes to the wall.) Maybe you do this before actually scribbling morsels of words onto paper… I think psychologists call it the ‘pre cognitive phase’ or something, I’m sure I read that somewhere…. anyway, I could just be making excuses, in which case just cover me in mozarella and tomato and stonebake me like a  pizza…. Or is it important in your working process to just let things simmer a bit and see what bubbles up in your thoughts or ideas and form connections for future explorations? In the same way as you just have a physical sense of when a poem is ‘finished’ and can release it from further editing…. I think it takes time to formulate/conceive of the piece sometimes in the first place. (This sounds like ‘baby’ language, so maybe a bit of ‘IVF’ and just making yourself write even if you’re not in the mood/don’t have time is needed too!)

I’m interested to know how you  mark out your time if you’re working on several projects at the same time. I’m currently desperately trying to edit a few new pieces for this friday, when I’m working with a director for the first time in Machester to pull together a slice of a show for the Litup project. This means my head is full of ‘Ben and Jerrys and Buddhism’, which is quite different from WBA…..  and back to the football – it’s the end of the season this weekend, so even though we’ve already been relegated, we’ve got one more game left and will probably play the best football of our season and catch a glimpse of what might have been…. so keep your fingers crossed for some ‘boing boing’ action before we parachute out of the Premiership for a year.

Enjoy your Bank Holiday, I’m working straight through, so no barbeques for me – but icecream is essential.xx

Reading on here about other writers’ methods of writing is fascinating…. and we all have similar quirks which is reassuring for such a solitary pursuit. (Nice to know I’m not the only freak!) As the muse/urge to write can lose its’ signal and leave us floundering for minutes/hours or longer – we need distractions. Fridges are a good place to start, and is it just me – but even though I know what’s in there…. I still go and open the door and gaze in – as if someone might have replaced the contents with a buffet of surprise cheesecakes and bannoffee pies. Often we turn to other’s words in books or online, and I have a few recommendations that I was given recently that are definitely worth a click when you’re in that headspace and have already checked your email 37 times in an hour….

This morning I had to get up at 4am to cover a radio breakfast show for a friend…. so as usual I set 4 different alarms – as doing that shift always makes you paranoid that you’ll oversleep! But you still lie there awake listening to the thunderstorms raging and working out how few hours sleep you’ll survive on. So excuse the bags under my eyes that Ryan Air would charge me £25 for.

It’s also weird how many meals you can eat in a day after such an early start – so breakfast at 4.30, first lunch of chilli chicken at 10am, then I’ve just had a second lunch at 2.30 of scrambled eggs on toast, and I’m sure that I’ll be starving again by 7.30 when I meet my friends for a curry. Is a 4am alarm call like having a tapeworm I wonder? (Also having bought a box of 6 creme eggs for 50p (Bargain of the week or what?) on the way home, and scoffed 2 so far in 10 minutes…. how many will be left faintly whispering ghostly Easter greetings by the time I crawl back into bed tonight?)

But back to poetry – so this week I went to a talk given by Naomi Alderman all about the future of writing online etc, and she stressed the importance of working with good designers. So here I feel I must confess and apologise hat so far you’ve only had text and words to read from me, as I don’t yet have a clue how to download photos etc or images to add to the blog – but that will be coming soon, she says optimistically…. Just enjoy the shapes of letters and words for now, and daydream about images of creme egg wrappers littering the floor and a knackered looking me typing away for you:)

This is going to be a quick post, as I’m working all day, and won’t be home till early hours of tomorrow to continue……   But inn bed last night, I thought of writing a piece on family trees linking with the WBA ground, nicknamed The Hawthorns.  I was adopted when I was a few months old, so I don’t know my biological family tree and have never met anyone who looks like me. I’m the six foot lanky alien on family photos in a sea of short curvy women with fabulous cleavages! (…. they were all concerned about M & S’s extra charge for larger bras, whereas I was just hoping for a discount on my vests from there!) Especially having watched a couple of the outstanding Ch 4 programmes on kids in care this week, I do know how lucky I am to have had a family and home etc. I think there are parallels with the way people ‘inherit/adopt’ a football club to support and then become part of that tribe or family and stick loyally with them no matter what. (Only the last few years with the fame and glamour of teams like Man Utd has that changed for some who chose the team with no personal connection whatsoever. Trust me, you inherit WBA, you don’t chose them for the glory!) The ground links families where several generations have watched the same team and may even stand in the same part of the ground:)

My Dad can still remember the name of every player who was in the winning cup team in the early 50’s, back when WBA had need of ‘Brasso’ and trophys to polish in the cupboard…… so there’s definitely something in all that for a future piece I’m going to start scribbling for tomorrow. As this residency has only just started in the last few weeks, I’ve been making lots of  notes and thinking ahead for structure and pieces, but so far not got any pieces to print here for your perusal yet, but very soon……. the others have had a few months more than me to get things on the go, so bear with me! Words soon come…….

I know so many writers keep diarys, but I never have done…. so this feels like a teenage confessional first diary! To keep you in the loop on MPOY at WBA, well ….last night I spent time with Channelle – a brilliant 17yr old, highlighted and diamond earring player in one of the womens teams at WBA…. she can nutmeg in a way that would make Wayne Rooney’s ears bleed:) I stayed in the chilly wind to watch the team training for their cup match next week and made some more notes. It’s research….although I’m sure all the girls there wonder what on earth I’m writing about as they practise penalties and tackling in some menacing and effective ways.

There are a lot of great women involved at WBA – infact when Naomi (MPOY co ordinator and I first went to meet Allison, (who’s in charge of all their community and education projects) – we were impressed by how many women work in the blue and white painted offices, just like the team strip. Each time I’ve been back since to shadow their youth workers I’ve also been amazed at how young yet mature many of the team are who work with schools and all so passionate about encouraging other young people in sport and ‘disguised learning’ as they call it….which sounds like subterfuge…. but basically means that if you’re wearing a football kit and running workshops that involve some sports stuff too, then pupils don’t notice the classroom side of things as well – very canny.

So I’m in a cake shop yesterday in London, and got a phone call from a Radio 2 producer to distract me from my chocolate and hazelnut brownies. They’ve asked me to go on Claudia Winkleman’s arts show tomorrow night (Friday) to talk for 5 minutes about Carol Ann Duffy and have asked me to write a short poem about her – yikes! So, if you have a thought about her work – I’m all ears, I’d like to reflect a collective of poets opinions:)

I love her Valentine poem, and may write something linking with a vegetable, although how can I compare to describing an onion as ‘a moon wrapped in brown paper’ I loved Jay’s poem about potatoes on here, so the vegetables are a running theme….

So, how do I write a poem?!  I always start simply with a pen and recycled paper….using the back of anything I’ve printed off and don’t use. That old idea of a paperless office was so wrong! (I also work in radio, so when I’m researching guests for interview or scouting through press releases I end up with forests worth of paper stacked on the floor ready to scribble on.)

Where do they come  from? Million dollar question, and I wish sometimes they’d use Satnav to find me quicker:)

Here’s a link to a talk a writer friend sent me, on this very subject….

http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

at one point Elizabeth mentions hearing a much older woman talk of working in the fields as a girl and literally feeling a poem in the wind coming towards her, so she’d have to run into the house to try and get pen and paper to scribble it down quickly enough. She describes sometimes being too late and sensing the poem going past her to someone else, or once she caught the end of it, and writing it backwards starting from the end line, as she literally reeled it back in. Whilst that’s never happened to me, I love the idea of it being so elusive and the notion of a poem actually ‘choosing’ you as a writer.