I spent a week in the Portuguese capital, Lisbon, recently. It was my first time in this interesting country, the only Western European state that I hadn’t visited before. I wasn’t really there on holiday, enjoyable though it was, I was doing a week-long poetry workshop with the British poet, Ruth O’ Callaghan in the small post-industrial town of Barreiro, on the other side of the vast River Tagus.

Barreiro may not have Lisbon’s architectural splendours but it was pure Portugal – far from the tourist crowds – and a good place to immerse oneself in poetry.

We were a group of four working with Ruth O’ Callaghan and it was truly absorbing – especially when we studied and responded to the work of the great 20th Century Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa.

We spent half a day at the Fernando Pessoa House, in the centre of Lisbon where we could access books and visual material on the poet.

This was after we given given an introduction to Pessoa by Pessoa expert, the exuberant and erudite Ricardo de Morais.

Back at our base in Barreiro, we proceeded to write a series of Pessoa related poems of our own having to produced first drafts within a strictly observed time limit – 40 minutes was a long time for some projects but sometimes the clock was set for 20 minutes. It was always surprizing how much we could get done within these constraints. I think everyone there went away with a bundle of poems which we can carry on polishing back in the UK.

There was time to socialise too when the writing was over for the day. There were opportunities to go off on our own into Lisbon or just to hang around outside our apartment in Barreiro’s pleasant town square. Fellow poet, Chris and I failed to look very Portuguese, I suspect, but our new friend, Ben could almost have been taken for a Barriero native. Especially after that 10 Euro note ‘miraculously’ appeared inside his fruity croissant’s paper bag.

We had time to talk about the poetry too and to discuss how it was going – here Chris and I are discussing something deeply poetic (perhaps) over coffee and tea with Annie, the fourth poet in our group, accompanied by one of Portugal’s wonderful custard tarts.

Over the River Tagus in Lisbon itself, there was time enough for relaxation and to enjoy some excellent Portuguese wine.

I also had the very best King prawns that I have ever tasted – it was served in a typically unpretentious restaurant that felt no need to glamourise what was already world-class cuisine.

I used my weekend off wisely, I think, taking in some of Lisbon’s cultural history. This archaeological site was a rediscovered street with Roman and Medieval Islamic urban remains.

Medieval Lisbon monks don’t seem to have locked themselves away from the world as the cloisters here have elegant windows looking over the city and beyond. I like the idea of a church with a view.

My mornings, in Portugal on this trip always began with an opportunity to go into the little park in front of our living quarters for an hour of martial arts practice. Here under the trees, I could watch the rising sun and put my mind in order for the day ahead.

The citizens of Barriero, on their way to work, remained unphased by my activities and I stopped being embarrassed by such things a long time ago.

My White Crane Kungfu style puts great emphasis on earthing your body and, wherever on my travels I do these patterns, no matter how imperfectly, I feel that the small plot of ground beneath my feet becomes a part of myself and I like to think I take a bit of all these places away with me. It is of course a form of meditation.

There was also time for another kind of poetry while I was in Lisbon and some of us were able to sneak away to a restaurant in the enjoyably bohemian Alfama district, the traditional birthplace of the famous Portuguese music called Fado. Here’s a taste – I was enthralled by the virtuosity and artistry of the musicians performing this seductive mixture of art song, folk music and, as some people claim, the blues.

The post My time in Lisbon, Portugal was pure poetry. appeared first on Wolfie Wolfgang.

It felt good getting the train to Mortlake for a poetry workshop with the poet Ruth O’ Callaghan – it was my first solo journey since I started being treated for blood clots in my lungs, known as pulmonary embolism. I packed up my drugs (and syringe) and headed off to London feeling, at last, as if I’m getting better after feeling ill all year.  If anyone needed to feel an input of Spring, I did and  Mortlake, where Spring comes early, looked like the Garden of Eden with its abundant flush of blossom. It was worth the journey just for that but, appropriately, the theme for the poetry workshop was Transport and I managed to write four new poems on the subject. I recommend Mortlake who has over-looked its particular charms.

———————————————————————————————–

STEPHEN DEARSLEY’S SUMMER OF LOVE BY COLIN BELL

My novel, Stephen Dearsley’s Summer Of Love, was published  on 31 October 2013. It is the story of a young fogey living in Brighton in 1967 who has a lot to learn when the flowering hippie counter culture changes him and the world around him.

It is now available as a paperback or on Kindle (go to your region’s Amazon site for Kindle orders)

You can order the book from the publishers, Ward Wood Publishing:

http://wardwoodpublishing.co.uk/titles-fiction-colin-bell-stephen-dearsleys-summer-of-love.htm 

…or from Book Depository:

http://www.bookdepository.co.uk/Stephen-Dearsleys-Summer-Love-Colin-Bell/9781908742070

…or from Amazon:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Stephen%20Dearsley’s%20Summer%20Of%20love

The post Was Mortlake the original Garden of Eden? It looks like it. appeared first on Wolfie Wolfgang.

I spent last weekend in the peaceful environment of Mortlake in the London Borough of Richmond  upon Thames where the occasional low flying planes reminds us that we are on the edge of the great metropolitan sprawl that is London.  I wasn’t plane spotting though, I was taking part in a two day poetry workshop with the impressive Ruth O’ Callaghan, the poet, who also run the Camden-

Lumen poetry events where I try to go to once a month for the poetry readings. These workshops are now a regular part of my calendar and they are both inspirational, intense and mentally demanding. Luckily there is time for a strict one hour for lunch and, just down the road, there’s the excellent Corner Cafe & Deli where I usually succumb to their ‘posh nosh’, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and a large cup of black coffee.

I have the first drafts of six new poems after my trip and feel that I’ve upped my game a bit with Ruth’s encouragement. Mortlake has become a place of inspiration for me but, I’m far from alone there,  J.M.W. Turner appreciated it too.

——————————————————————————————————————–

My novel, Stephen Dearsley’s Summer Of Love, was published  on 31 October 2013. It is the story of a young fogey living in Brighton in 1967 who has a lot to learn when the flowering hippie counter culture changes him and the world around him.

The post Finding poetic inspiration in Mortlake appeared first on Wolfie Wolfgang.

Yesterday, celebrating the completion of the final edit of my about to be published novel,  I spent the day at the Mosaic Rooms, an art gallery in Kensington, London. Being a Monday, it was closed to the public so a group of us had the place to ourselves for the new exhibition, Equinox, Between Beirut and London, the first solo show in the UK, by the young  France-based Kurdish Syrian artist, Lawand al-Attar,  known simply as Lawand.

His work is passionate, uncomfortable at times and deeply human. Even if the exhibition, Equinox, isn’t directly related to the terrible situation in Syria today, it is certainly influenced by the conditions in Lawand’s native country. Ghostly stumbling figures with decimated bodies, appear or disappear in a varporously insecure landscape. I and a number of fellow poets were at the gallery for a poetry workshop where we would write poems inspired, influenced or even repelled by these vivid paintings.

The much lauded French-Welsh poet Pascale Petit led the workshop, Writing The Body,  guiding us gently towards three precisely-timed poetry writing sessions during the day where we were all produced three poems each, all remarkably different and all created in the intense atmosphere created by Laward’s work and Pascale’s subtle pushing. It was truly both inspiring and exposing.

I shall let my three pieces ferment at the back of my mind for a few days before looking at them again but, however they turn out, this experience encouraged me to take some new directions in my writing, looking for new sources of inspiration.

Pascale Petit was commissioned to write a set of poems based around a series of Lawand’s drawings also a part of this exhibition at the Mosaic Rooms – the art book, Effigies, a collaboration between Petit and Lawand,  is published this week and will be available at the launch at the gallery this Saturday at noon. The exhibition runs until 29th November and is well worth a visit even if you don’t want to attempt writing a poem about your reactions to the work. You don’t have to, obviously, but why not have a go. For further details here’s a link:

http://www.mosaicrooms.org/lawand/

In spending such a luxuriously long time with these paintings in such a peaceful and uncluttered atmosphere, I was not only writing poetry but also learning to truly look at Lawand’s art and to absorb its power. I shall have awakened eyes the next time I visit an art gallery. It was an added pleasure getting the chance to meet the charmingly diffident Lawand al-Attar as well as working with the quietly radiant poet Pascale Petit. We accomplished in a single day and I hope to incorporate ways of thinking and looking learned from both artists in my future work – inadequate as that might be.

——————————————————————————————————————–

My first novel, Stephen Dearsley’s Summer Of Love, is published  on 31 October 2013. It is the story of a young fogey living in Brighton in 1967 who has a lot to learn when the flowering hippie counter culture changes him and the world around him.

The post Writing the body: poetry and painting – an inspiring combination. appeared first on Wolfie Wolfgang.

I was in London on Saturday doing a one day poetry workshop run by the poet Ruth O’ Callaghan. I used to think I would never do anything quite so terrifying as a writing workshop because I’m happiest writing on my own in my small upper room without any ‘interference’. I would probably never have done one too if it hadn’t been for the Ruth O’ Callaghan’s persuasive skills. She runs the well-known London poetry group,  Camden Lumen Poetry http://camdenlumen.wordpress.com/tag/ruth-ocallaghan/ and holds monthly poetry events, one in Camden and the other in Kings Cross where all the proceeds goes to the charity, Cold Weather Shelters –  a more than worthy cause that helps provide food and a bed for the homeless during the winter months. I met Ruth when I started going to the Camden event, held on the first Friday of every month where I usually read one of my poems and enjoy meeting up with the other poets. Ruth got in touch and persuaded me that I should go to one of her workshops that are by invitation only  and the proceeds for these go to cold Weather Shelters too. As I say, Ruth can be very persuasive so I went to my first one last November and lived. On Saturday I ventured back for a second one.

These workshops are everything that I feared. The very opposite of anything a self-consciously private writer would ever wish on himself. Or are they?  Each session is with just a small group of five invited poets who sit round Ruth’s dining table for a full and very intense day when Ruth guides us on  specific themes, encourages a close reading of several poems and makes us, on three occasions during the day, write a poem to a very strict and unforgiving schedule inspired by the topic under discussion. The writing sessions are timed by a chess competition clock. We were given 12 minutes for each poem at the first workshop and 20 minutes at the second. My first instinct was to get my coat and run but if I had dared to chicken out, I would have missed out because Ruth’s workshops are truly inspirational and, on both occasions, I not only wrote those three poems but they seemed to come from nowhere.  I learnt a lot too about how to push myself when I’m back in my upper room.

Ruth is, as they say, firm but fair. She’s a poet herself and loves the art of poetry but she manages to create an energetic and highly enjoyable atmosphere while keeping a tight grip on the proceedings. When it is time to write that poem – there is no arguing. She is, however, not so harsh a disciplinarian that she doesn’t use our writing time to go out to the kitchen to make us coffee and tea or to prepare a plate of chocolate eclairs. On both my visits I have left fired up to write more and to write better.

So, far from running away, I’ve booked myself back in for another session in April. As I said to one of the other poets on Saturday, that first visit was like losing my virginity. I’d never done it with someone else before, write poetry that is, and afterwards I felt just great. I’m hoping my writing will that much better for knowing Ruth O’ Callaghan.

The post Losing my virginity at a poetry workshop. appeared first on Wolfie Wolfgang.