Picture This - Jacqueline Saphra 'The Latch'

I invited some high calibre poets to respond to a portfolio of my recent photography for a project called Picture This. I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful work I've received. I also worked with photographer and film-maker Craig Thomas, on a short film entitled Still Life, containing a selection of these images. Jacqueline Saphra is a breathtakingly accomplished poet. I was honoured when she responded with the poem below; a sad and honest descripton of the tug of war that can happen in relationships.

The Latch How long had they stood on either side of that threshold, each willing the other to cross the line? Neither would give ground. Each grabbed a handle. They pushed the door back and forth between them for years until at last, the groans of the hinge alerted the latch, the latch remembered itself and clicked shut.

Picture This - Jocelyn Page 'Shadows Point East'

During my recent spell of ill health I assembled a portfolio of photographs, Still Life. I invited some high calibre poets to respond to these photographs for a project called Picture This. I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful work I have received. I also worked with photographer and film-maker, Craig Thomas, on a short film containing a selection of these images which you can enjoy below. I feel very lucky to know poet Jocelyn Page. I was overjoyed when she chose one of my more abstract photos to inspire her poem here. Her poetry quietly and confidently beckons me in, then wakes me up to seeing the world in a whole new light.

Jocelyn Page is an American poet living in South East London. Her pamphlet smithereens was published by the tall-lighthouse in 2010. She teaches at Goldsmiths College where she is working toward a PhD on the topics of inspiration and collaboration.

Shadows Point East By the time we get to camp and our unpacking, line setting horse staking, fast eating, fireside click-clacking is through - I finally get to the words, blazed in charred shadows in my head, by then the opposite of their brilliance, like the noon sun stamps itself in the deepest black on the backs of the eyes. So nothing I write tonight, dear, will come anywhere near the idea that I had, that I had to tell you this afternoon, out stalking the west.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9psPlFAEPFE&w=560&h=315]

Pyjama Life

It's taken as a given that writers wear all sorts of things to write in, from top hat and tails, threadbare old cardigans to absolutely nothing at all. OK so I lied about the tails. The point I'm making is that it's broadly acknowledged that what you wear whilst you are writing the great novel, symphony or latest blog post has no effect whatsoever on what you are producing. Truman Capote famously described himself as an 'horizonatal author' saying "I can’t think unless I’m lying down, either in bed or stretched on a couch and with a cigarette and coffee handy. I’ve got to be puffing and sipping."

John Cheever declared "To publish a definitive collection of short stories in one’s late 60s seems to me, as an American writer, a traditional and a dignified occasion, eclipsed in no way by the fact that a great many of the stories in my current collection were written in my underwear.”

Flannery O Connor, who lived with lupus, noted “I write only about two hours every day because that’s all the energy I have, but I don’t let anything interfere with those two hours, at the same time and the same place.”

O'Connor's quote really resonates with me. My ill health means that my energy, and accompanying symptoms, vary enormously. Good (ish) days mean that I can sit here at my desk at 1030 am and begin to write this blog. On bad days after getting up and making breakfast I am back in bed before lunchtime my head spinning, limbs leaden and heavy, exhausted just by sitting up and not able to read or listen to music as everything sets off intense dizzy spells.

And that's why on the days I don't venture out of the house (which are the majority at present) I prefer to stay in my ultra comfortable pj's with my cosy dressing gown bought for me by a very kind friend. Another friend, not alone in his opinion, was well meaning but ill informed. He said he was worried that my experience of ill health (and my attitude to it) could be exacerbated by my choice not to get dressed. I know he was concerned that I would define myself by my illness and nothing else. For him, putting on sweatpants and an old t-shirt made him feel tired and less inclined to do anything.

In fact he does have a point. One of the reasons I wear pyjamas is because it IS relaxing. When my energy drops it feels like the floor has gone from under me and I have to lie down immediately. There's no energy left for undressing or for getting in to something more comfortable. It would be like getting prepared to faint. This way I know that whatever the time of day I am always ready to take care of myself. I am dressed for the job of getting well, or at least not getting more ill.

Conversely I have also managed to achieve a fair amount from my bed. Before this current chapter of ill health I worked from home as a freelancer. One of my many assignments was working in online marketing. I can now confess the majority of this work was undertaken in clothes that would make 'dress down friday' look like I was dressing for the Oscars. These days the majority of my creative output is undertaken without the formality of underwear.

There's an important point to made here about the bridge between those living at home with with chronic illness and writers who often work in solitude. It's this - there's a honesty and self care in both ways of being. For me, the knowledge that I belong to both tribes helps me realise that I'm not alone.

By now you'll have a pretty good idea what I'm wearing to compose this post. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Picture This - A F Harrold 'Just This'

During my recent spell of ill health I assembled a portfolio of images, Still Life. I invited some high calibre poets to respond to these photographs for a project called Picture This. I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful work I have received. I also worked with photographer and film-maker Craig Thomas on a short film containing a selection of these images. An empty chair has a poetry all its own. Today's poet, the highly esteemed A F Harrold, has written a touching and elegant piece that brought a tear to my eye when I first read it.

A.F. Harrold is an English poet who writes and performs for adults and children.

Just This

Autumn days seem longer when the low sun slinks,

before mists rise up and afternoon puts evening on.

There are spaces in them, crisp and airy where no bird sings,

which open simply into a long view of all that’s gone.

Picture This - Aisling Fahey 'Lock'

Since autumn of last year I have been unwell with chronic fatigue and have spent the majority of my time housebound. For someone who spent most of her days doing a hundred and one things (and now I realise a hundred too many) this has been a huge period of adjustment and not one I welcomed. As a writer and a photographer my creative expression has often given me stability in more fragile times. For the first few months of my illness I had little mental stamina and also suffered from 'brain fog'. My usual refuge of both writing and reading poetry was not available to me. I felt like I was stranded on a life raft with no sign of land. I finally had to learn to acquaint myself with stillness and silence. Previously my life had all been about movement and the constant preoccupation that I was not going fast enough. My fatigue put an emergency stop to all my frantic activity. In quieter moments I am grateful for this opportunity to stop and experience what being without doing actually feels like. Other times it is a hellish struggle and I mourn for the pleasure of being busy that, what is now, 'my old life' offered.

On better days I am able to pick up my camera and go in to the garden, or on short local walks. I have found the sublime beauty in repetition, something that I would have never encountered before. I have also began to enjoy getting really close to my subject matter, whether it be a dry twig in winther months or a brass hinge on the garden door. These forgotten details seem to say something about my current emotional and physical state. There is something very meditative about re-visiting the same subject matter and finding new ways to look at the familiar. I am learning that even when there appears to be no movement or change there is still transformation.

As the weeks passed I realised that I had created a portfolio of images on a theme. As any good hairdresser will tell you there is nothing like a good pun and so I entitled this portfolio 'Still Life'. I also worked with photographer and film-maker Craig Thomas on a short film containing a selection of these images. It was not long after I assembled the images in one place that I decided to invite some high calibre poets to respond to the images for a project called 'Picture This'.

The first poet to be featured is the inexhaustibly talented Aisling Fahey. Aisling has a way of telling the truth that breaks through the isolation of pain. I am honoured to have her take part.

Lock Perhaps you know where you are going, always have. Sceptics who call you lost don’t know that the ground is a map underneath your searching feet you will find your way.

Or perhaps this was all rushed - you left without a coat, keys in a heap on the floor, light catching dust particles through the slit in the curtain.

That is what makes me worry, that your compass is now a cross and you carry new destinations on your back like lead weight. You try to plan a route home, but the gravel gets caught underneath the heel of your shoe.

Around Camden in 5 Photos - a photography walk

Around Camden in 5 Photos – A photography walk Sunday 9th October

Start the new Jewish year with photographer and teacher Naomi Woddis as she shows you how you don’t need to have extensive technical skill or a flashy camera to be a great photographer. On a walking trip of the more hidden parts of Camden we’ll be finding stories everywhere – looking at sequence and how to create meaning and narrative in our photos.

The workshop is not about technical skills but instead about developing a photographer’s ‘eye’ - you’ll find imaginative and unusual ways to capture how we look at the world.

Please bring your camera – any model will do - from SLR to iPhone to disposable… Naomi’s last walk was a sell out so please book early!

Book here !

How close is close ?

For the past few weeks I have been taking photographs for my upcoming exhibition, Poetry Snapshots. It's got me thinking about what it is to take a portrait. I have the advantage of knowing some of the photographic subjects very welI and wonder how much this closeness contributes to the final portrait. I found this quote by one of my favourite photographers, Nan Goldin.I never took pictures with a long lens, it is always short and I have to get close to people I photograph.

Goldin's portraits are very close indeed, including a sequence of a couple's love-making. Although my portraits are not that intimate I realise I do look at the images I capture with a lover's gaze. I shoot a lot and spend hours post-processing poring over the subtle changing expressions in the facial musculature. I'm a bit of a face detective awaiting the moment the person is revealed behind the persona. For this reason locations are less important to me than the light playing on a person's skin, and in their eyes.

It's been very rewarding spending these pockets of time with some of London's best spoken word performers. The conversations have varied from the playful to the political with everything in between. And an exhibition of this kind would not be complete without a performance to launch it ! Come and join us.

Keep Learning - an interview with photographer Rob Covell

Dzifa and I (under our collective title Word Migrants) had a great time hosting our book event, The Book Salon, last week featuring Leila Segal, Gemma Weekes , Agnes Meadows, Rachel Rose Reid, Courttia Newland and singer/songwriter Marcus Begg whose photo you can see here.

It was taken by photographer Rob Covell whose portfolio is becoming increasingly impressive. I have really been enjoying Rob's live shots as well as his stunning photographs of his partner, writer and performer extraordinaire Kat Francois.

Having recently picked up the camera again (it's been just over a year since I have entered the digital realm busying myself with portraits and more) I asked Rob about what photography meant to him.

Art to me is a tool. I see art as a means to convey something. For me that is the most important part, not necessarily the art itself. Like true hip hop or poetry I like it when it teaches me, when it's revolutionary and empowers people. It still has to be good artistically, but if the message is missing or is hidden in too abstract a way, then it’s not easy to grab me.

Photography is the same. Yes, a beautiful landscape, nature pic or portrait will grab me. A gratuitous shot of suffering will not. If I’m taking a portrait, I would like the subject to look at the photo afterwards and feel empowered by it, that they see something beautiful about themselves that they hadn’t seen before.

A lot of discussion around photography understandably focuses on the image. I am very interested in the interaction between the photographer and the subject especially when it comes to more personal and meaningful relationships. Rob told me a little about the role taking pictures played in the relationship with his daughter.

I have a teenage daughter who has autism. I wondered if the relaxation I feel taking photos would help her, so I’ve started taking her out to parks and zoos, and just letting her loose with my camera. She loves nature and has told me how she too finds it relaxing. Photography totally de-stresses her.

So, what's next ?

I really want to get to a point where I can be semi-professional. I work as part of Zupakat Productions, run by Kat Francois and would like to develop the photography arm of that along with my own music production and writing. I’m working on some ideas for combining my three art forms. As with my writing, a main focus of my work will be to re-address euro centric perspectives and history.

As photographers, we have the ability to record the legacies of others, and I think that is a beautiful opportunity to create history that otherwise would go untold. I don’t want to specialise in one type of photography, there’s too much to see out there.

But what’s really next - Keep learning !

A Postcard From Inside My Head

Tuesday is my day to post a prompt for the poem a day discipline. I have been feeling a bit low over the past few days and I think, in part, I posted such a comprehensive challenge as I know I needed something with a bit of muscle to pull me out of my low mood. I already have a title. Sometimes titles arrive on their own looking for partnership with a poem, and like life, it can take a while to find a fitting match. The, as yet, poem-less title is "A Postcard From Inside My Head". The full prompt is below - if you fancy taking part I'll post your final poems here !

Read this about the Japanese verse form, the haibun, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haibun.

They key thing to remember about this form is "A haibun may record a scene, or a special moment, in a highly descriptive and objective manner or may occupy a wholly fictional or dream-like space. The accompanying haiku may have a direct or subtle relationship with the prose and encompass or hint at the gist of what is recorded in the prose sections." http://www.haibuntoday.com/ - here are some examples.

Now EITHER choosing from one of the titles on the page of examples (http://www.haibuntoday.com/) write your own haibun. This can be a reinterpretation of the piece, a response to it or something totally new.

OR Choose a headline from one of these online papers or an article you are drawn to and write your own haibun.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/ http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/news/ http://www.independent.co.uk/ http://global.nytimes.com/?iht

Good luck ! Naomi x

Boomerang

I was in a stuck and foul old mood today, I was resistant to the beauty offered by Autumn's changing colours. I moaned, stomped and swore ignoring my emails and my ever lengthening to do list. In search of some much needed emotional catharsis I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the bathroom and kitchen floors. For a few moments I appreciated hard work in the way only those that don't really do enough can. Then it was back to the week long wrestle I've been having with myself.

Then an opportunity. It was my friend Andrea Robinson's turn to post a prompt for our Poem a Day challenge. It was only after I finished the poem I realised that I had mentioned both boxing and wrestling which seems indicative of my mood ! I also think I need to take a moment here to acknowledge once again if there's one thing that really helps it's writing. I spend so much time fighting it off but she's (I see my muse as a she, and a very determined one at that) the boomerang that won't let me go.

Shadow Boxing

Shadows wrestle with what little light there is. Did I tell you I dreamt of being a boxer, to feel

my fist hard against anything that held still long enough, until the thrust of air and knuckle spun it

through time and space. A pendulum swings irrelevant of what you feel and, like light,

follows its own science. I wish it could be that way, always. Swinging back forth, back forth; a mobile

waiting for sound to happen, wind chimes holding their breath until the wind arrives; a quiet completion.

Instead the wrestling shadows, how time moves every last thing on, each counter on the board, step by chequered

step. The burglar always breaking the rose's neck, the fever mistaken for a passion destroying one's life.

Quotes used: "True rebels after all, are as rare as true lovers,and in both cases, to mistake a fever for passion can destroy one's life" — James Baldwin

"The ghost of your memory/is the thistle in the kiss/ and the burglar that that can break a roses neck" - Tom Waits