So the amazing poet Chrissy Williams runs this poetry&comics salon once a month and me and Ed have been going. I don’t really know anything about comics, or I didn’t before Chrissy got her hands on me. The evening comprises of poets, shyly cutting up wonderful art work donated by the resident artists, and artists doing incredible work illustrating our words. And sometimes you come up with something pleasing. And most of the time you drink beer. Basically any night where I get to use the word meat-tongued seems like a good one. 


The Poetry Trust Party. Last night Chrissy and I went to Old Broadcasting House to talk about being part of The Aldeburgh 8; a unique scheme that basically changed both of our writing lives. Chrissy was super eloquent and managed to convey her feelings whilst I just went on a mini rant about how much rejection there was in the world - and that for me, The Aldeburgh 8 had meant acceptance and support. But mostly the week spent in Aldeburgh made me question my process and what I write and how I write it and why. Big questions, that I am still dealing with now and are still helping me write. So bigging up the scheme last night was incredibly easy as I hope i continues long into the future and that many others poets benefit. 

Last night was also a time to talk about the departure of Naomi Jaffa, as director of The Poetry Trust, and true to form she was elegant, sparkling and beautiful as she managed to convey her thoughts about the future and indeed she ended with an incredible and moving poem by Tadeusz Rozewicz, proving simply, with a poem, the power of poetry to affect ones life. 

And Hannah Silva premiered a snippet of her Aldeburgh Commission; she used the word pain over and over above a bewitching soundtrack of self-made vocal loops - it was mindblowing. And then there was Maggie’s cooking; I became obsessed with these curry cream cheese puffs. And then Chrissy did her bear impression and spilt red wine over my white shirt, which kinda felt totally okay because she did it after I had to speak in front of everyone - phew. And then Chrissy, Hannah, Tom Chivers and I went to the pub to drink brown/orange lager and played silly games with our name tags. Good Times.