Fox on a Boat

In the Victoria Embankment Gardens I set out today with a specific goal in mind - to make some sketches and write some poetry. The sun lured me out of my cave  bedroom, and, as is often the case when it is sunny and I am feeling creative, I headed to Southbank. There, I found myself in the Poetry Library. It is a wonderful place - quiet, with few people, and full of books. One night, in the throes of great emotional turmoil (that I don't fully recall), the children's corner, hidden from sight, was a calming poetic haven. It is a little gem of London. Today, I discovered Ted Kooser's Poetry Manual , full of interesting thoughts and quotes. When I go back, I shall have to finish reading it. One thought which I felt rang very true, and particularly enjoyed, was his idea of how a poem changes you, changes your view of the world. If you were to read a poem with a line about the summer evening sunlight, streaming through a willow tree as a nearby musician played sad son...

During Poetry Parnassus here in London, at Southbank, I went to a poetry workshop run by Poems On The Underground. I joined a small group of people led by an older woman, armed with clipboard, paper and pen. Thanks to London's wonderful transport system, (and admittedly, my own slight lateness), I'd missed about 5 minutes of the workshop, so arrived as the group was completing the first task: Write three lies about yourself. I listened as the group all lied in turn, and we moved to the next task, which was to write three fantasies. I slightly misunderstood and wrote three big lies - but what we had to write was three IMPOSSIBLE things. My statements were all possible, but they still did their job, which was to spark a poem idea. One girl wrote about her pet lion called Jeffrey, which was pretty cool. She'd written it from the perspective of a rejected lover, and the mixing of the two 'plots' was nicely done. Another wrote about a pink unicorn, which was slightly...