Friday, 20 April 2012
And a wonderful festival it was, too!
I went to hear Paul Henry who was excellent, just the right touch of warmth and personal anecdote; attended Ian Duhig's Ms. workshop and was impressed by Ian's tact, patience and dedication to his work.
Then Polly Bolton, Larks choir and I all burst variously into song and poetry readings on the Sunday, after which performance I have never in my life felt so hungry! The expression "I could eat a horse" wasn't far from it though I can't imagine ever eating a horse- I admire horses far too much.
My weekend ended with listening to Mario Petrucci's absorbing reading - I bought his book The Waltz in my Blood to study his new technique that he said was revealed to him in a dream (it's not an easy technique either! -taking already published earlier poems and rejigging them into a fractured kind of stream-of-consciousness is only a very small hint of what he is doing).
And finished the weekend in style by running off a high kerb in my car.There was a terrible bang and I thought 'Oh no, this is it, Goodbye to my venerable old Golf', but no, it was fine. As they say - "they're not made like that anymore".
The journey home was smooth and uneventful, made beautiful by the intense greens of April, and a view of distant hills. (They were not blue - the light was too sharp, so no Houseman experience)
This festival is pure delight, so much packed into a weekend, and the festival team is made up of incredibly helpful and pleasant people. How Anna, Liz, and Linda and all the rest kept smiling through such an exhausting weekend I don't know. Hats off to every one of them!