"She lives the poetry she cannot write" – Wilde
Strange meetings and unlikely fancy dress parties this week. Most important (and least strange) was the meeting of the National Poetry Day steering committee. The luminaries of the British poetry scene are kindly allowing us the use of their brains from time to time, which will be an immense help in all our efforts.
Back in the north west, events were a bit more surreal. A meeting with John Gorman, director, idea-generator and all-round splendid fellow, is always slightly off the wall. We were discussing a huge variety of possible projects and he had just given me a badge that said VOLLEYBALL when we were joined (in the coffee lounge of a renowned hotel) by a cockroach. Very Kafka. And then my Tuesday evening event, Superheroes of Slam, saw me on stage with Spiderman and the Hulk. My own superhero identity – What Did I Come In Here For Woman? paled into insignificance.
Less surrealism and more cake, during a foray in blustery sunshine with Joy Winkler to research poems for the Macclesfield Cultural Festival. We wandered around the town, showed each other unexpected corners and much-loved buildings, and it was a really refreshing approach to the town. Citizens – go forth and poke into the corners of a town you think you know; you will learn new things and find unexpected shops to boot!
The week ended with a 007-themed fancy dress party. Reading the ‘fancy dress’ clause of the invitation only at the last moment, I hastily squeezed into the tuxedo I have from the occasion I was cast as a transvestite nightclub singer and murderer, for another party…..