Earl grey tea and rainy days…
Learning to find forgiveness without forgetting or condoning the events which have moved my world into such a strange place, through such fear and pain. Through the thoughts of demise and loss. How do we do this without hoping our actions don’t plant the wrong seeds, to genuinely forgive not push things down and pretend. How the hell do we do this?

Not awake at all today, drinking beer & eating paprikash with Kay and John last night, beer always makes me crappy, I should just stick to whisky or drink nothing, I like the taste of beer but the effect is horrible, so chemical. I have been free writing in the mornings trying to divine a purpose to being a poet. Wondering how am I allowed, by the way this world is, to be a poet. It seems you have to be a teacher, group leader, health facilitator, grant applier for, PR agent, first then you may get a poem in. this is not good. All I want to do is to write and to have an audience for the work. How does one get out there? Be seen? In visual art there are exhibitions, shows, exchanges, not for writers. Nepotism rules the day in the poetry-publishing world.

It is raining; thankfully, it has been so hot and dry the last 3 weeks here. It is nice to be in the house. Tim Buckley’s ‘lord I must have been blind’ is playing down stairs and I am replying to some correspondences, very nice. Earl grey tea and rainy days…