Pens & Lens & Fotherington ThomasUp early after a dreadful night's sleep full of nightmares. Had a full English breakfast and decided to take myself for a long walk. Started at Icart Point and walked to Fermain Bay along the cliff path. Felt nauseous and weak today for some reason, but decided today was not the day for to be ill in. Another beautiful blue-hot day with a cooling breeze. The cliffs jostling with flowers like in mum's paintings, and the sea was diamonding with the sunlight.
Stopped off at Jerbourg for a cup of tea, and narrowly missed encountering a member of the family who I have fallen out with, and last seen at my Grandfather's funeral. She saw me before I saw her, and I only recognised her by the look of her broomstick. Shaken, I phoned Mum and Mase, who expressed surprised that I'd bumped into so many people already.
Early in the walk I found a magpie feather. One of the poems being used in Guernsey for this Pens & Lens poetry/film business, is one of mine, called Headstone, that opens with the line: "A magpie feather, myself middle aged" and so finding this on my path seemed like a good omen.
Walked on to Fermain, where I stopped and had a cup of tea and a tuna sandwich, happy for the shadow of the sunshade. Then back to the hotel being somewhat taken with sunlight falling through trees, and all the flowers, and so on in a sort of Fotherington Thomas sort of way.
After about 4 hours I went back to the hotel feeling very weak and shaky. Lay down and rested consumptively before gradually getting my act together and catching the bus into town again. This time I met Betty in St Peter Port, hurrying off to see her niece perform.
On arriving in town the reading didn't go quite as expected. I arrived twenty minutes early only to find that they had started early. I was also looked on with some surprise for being there at all, despite having emailed to say I would be. However I was made a fuss of and invited to read too. So it all worked out fine in the end.
The event was very well attended, and in a room where everyone stood, and read in the round. Free wine too, which was welcome considering it was mainly poets.
Stopped off at Jerbourg for a cup of tea, and narrowly missed encountering a member of the family who I have fallen out with, and last seen at my Grandfather's funeral. She saw me before I saw her, and I only recognised her by the look of her broomstick. Shaken, I phoned Mum and Mase, who expressed surprised that I'd bumped into so many people already.
Early in the walk I found a magpie feather. One of the poems being used in Guernsey for this Pens & Lens poetry/film business, is one of mine, called Headstone, that opens with the line: "A magpie feather, myself middle aged" and so finding this on my path seemed like a good omen.
Walked on to Fermain, where I stopped and had a cup of tea and a tuna sandwich, happy for the shadow of the sunshade. Then back to the hotel being somewhat taken with sunlight falling through trees, and all the flowers, and so on in a sort of Fotherington Thomas sort of way.
After about 4 hours I went back to the hotel feeling very weak and shaky. Lay down and rested consumptively before gradually getting my act together and catching the bus into town again. This time I met Betty in St Peter Port, hurrying off to see her niece perform.
On arriving in town the reading didn't go quite as expected. I arrived twenty minutes early only to find that they had started early. I was also looked on with some surprise for being there at all, despite having emailed to say I would be. However I was made a fuss of and invited to read too. So it all worked out fine in the end.
The event was very well attended, and in a room where everyone stood, and read in the round. Free wine too, which was welcome considering it was mainly poets.
They are using three of my poems in the exhibition and another in a flyer, thanks to Richard Fleming who is something of a kindred spirit in Guernsey. A real diversity of work being read out, and much of it of very good quality. I was very pleased with the reception I got. I read The Remembering Cliffs, Heidegger in the Forest, and Thought Daughter. Due to my unexpected arrival I read last, which is always best. Met some really interesting people, lots of other writers, some of whom I knew already, and others who I knew by their names only. Much chatting and networking going on.
I've never seen such a literary buzz in Guernsey: and the Pens & Lens event is from the Guernsey Arts Commission, and more power to it I say. Afterwards I went off for a meal with Adam Clayton, who edits Written, the Guernsey literary magazine, and Danielle who designs Written among other things. An interesting chat. Adam seems to be a slightly better organised version of me about twenty odd years ago, and I greatly warmed to him.
Then off by Taxi to Les Douvres, having had a really good day.
Below the dog and lion rocks, a bee, and cliffs near Jerbourg, and, top of page, Fotherington Thomas.
I've never seen such a literary buzz in Guernsey: and the Pens & Lens event is from the Guernsey Arts Commission, and more power to it I say. Afterwards I went off for a meal with Adam Clayton, who edits Written, the Guernsey literary magazine, and Danielle who designs Written among other things. An interesting chat. Adam seems to be a slightly better organised version of me about twenty odd years ago, and I greatly warmed to him.
Then off by Taxi to Les Douvres, having had a really good day.
Below the dog and lion rocks, a bee, and cliffs near Jerbourg, and, top of page, Fotherington Thomas.
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