Just back from Grasmere, a weekend of poetry workshops in which we were encouraged to lie, deceive, omit and generally bend the truth. 'The Word of a Lie' was led by Jake Polley and Helen Mort, and it was a very good experience. Actually of course we discussed what, in poetry, is the true bit. How true is memory, literally speaking? What feels true?
It was great having the space in which to write, and think about nothing else. That is hard to come by. Though I stand by the idea that a packed life is a creative life, complete with supermarket shopping and doing topics on the Egyptian Book of the Dead. And checking someone remembered to put the hens to bed, before the fox eats any more of them. (Sad incident last week).
Anyway, enjoyed the company of lots of lovely talented people, and I have some drafts to work on, and my brain felt very exercised by Sunday evening.
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