I have an old bureau that I use as a desk. It’s been in my family for decades and has followed me through several house moves. I don’t treat it very well; I cellotape things to it, never use a coaster, the little drawers are full of random trinkets. It’s become the place where I spend most of my time these days, and I’ve really started to love and appreciate just how cool the old thing is.
I sent off the revised book manuscript for ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ this week, and I changed a lot this time around. I discovered that when ‘art’ changes medium, from live performance to the written word, much needs to adapt. And that was quite a reckoning for me. I realised I had taken a lot for granted as performer; many words and phrases I was able to gloss over before now stood out in glaring disobedience. The way something is written down matters, because it’s fixed in place, and not gone the moment it’s spoken out loud. Every punctuation mark was agonised over - like I said, I’ve spent a lot of time at my desk this Winter.
And from tomorrow I’m tearing myself away from this cosy nook, and getting down to some rehearsing. For the next two weeks I’ll need to concentrate on ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ as I have an online gig, and want to film and edit some sections for the Patreon account I started just after Christmas. Working on that show feels so easy and comfortable to me now, though I still don’t like filming myself all that much. Online poetry gigs don’t feel as awkward as they used to - I guess all new things are uncomfortable at first.
When I performed an extract of ‘Testy Manifesto’ for the first time back in November 2019, the host of Cabaret Playroom and I spoke about my very first burlesque act, we have known each other for years, and that’s how she remembered me. It was a Mary Poppins act (I called it ‘Lolly Poppins’) and when I told her that my latest work was based around domestic abuse she said; “Well, we’re a long way from Cherry Tree Lane now.” Indeed we are. Weirdly enough, another friend who was in the audience that night brought up Mary Poppins too: “Is there a way to reference Poppins in this new work?” I think there is - I used a Suffragettes ‘Votes For Women’ sash in the Poppins act, it has hung as decoration in my living room for the past two years, and it’s going to feature in the new show. Why not? The Suffragettes were radical activists, and that fits with my message. They weren’t perfect, some of their policies were racist, and thankfully feminism has progressed since then. I think I will bring back the hatstand too, at least I’ll have somewhere to hang my coat rather than chucking it on the floor.
This month I also completed a mammoth arts council project grant application. The one I submitted in October was declined, but looking back I wasn’t ready then. Now the project has ballooned, and I’ve partnered with several domestic abuse charities / agencies. It’s been great to talk about my work with people who share my values, and great to think about this show having some sort of practical benefit for staff and survivors, just really great. I’ve come away from those phone conversations beaming from head to toe, and with copious amounts of renewed mojo. I hope it’s successful, high functioning domestic abuse survivors need support too, y’know. And I am so ready now.
I’m still writing new poems, sometimes they just want to come out, and I let them, no point fighting. I’ve started compiling a separate anthology of Orphan Poems. I wish now I’d made a record of the ones I wrote for FL which I later cut from the show, I’ve learned to value all of my work now, not just what I think is good enough. All of it has some use, somewhere.
Looking forward to Springtime,
JJlF xx
There’s a bolt on my door now
I lock it behind me
There’s a line of salt where carpet meets metal
Just to make sure
A tourmaline top
Electromagnetic
There’s a lock on my door now
There’s a crack in my heart now
You sanded it smooth
Where the younger, paler wood met yew
The rain started
The shape swelled
Hot air applied
Theres’ a gap in my heart now
There’s the smell of lavender now
It lingers like judgement
I think of tea ceremonies, words as weapons
Things you’ll never know
Bunches in the window
Sorceress perfume
There’s the scent of lavender now
My strings are much tighter now
I could snap at any moment
I’ve sat in our places, gazed at what we saw
When we were just wasting time
The weather turned
Fungi appeared
My strings are still stinging me
There’s a burn in my stomach now
Something I’m still purging
I’m thinking in cycles, in spirals, trines, oppositions, conjunctions, transits
I’m looking at Mars, full frontal
I’m seeing decay
I’m rotting from the inside out
Hipbones jutting
There’s a hole in my stomach now, dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a twinge somewhere I just can’t place
There’s a debt to be paid
To whom or where or why or how, I don’t know
I’m suspended in secrets
Tied up in a bow
I’m turning to face it
For when Pluto squares Pluto, there’ll be hell to pay
And I’ll be covered in debris
There’s a pattern here, distant yet familiar to me
Something I’m still learning
I’m thinking in new age newsletters, transcriptions, proofing, so much writing
Excavating, discovering an ancient city covered in volcanic dust
Deep rooting, learning about survival
So much staring, drifting, recording, reaching, wondering, wandering
Calming nervous system, needing something to do with my hands
Swimming up and down
Dreaming of otters
Dreaming of you often
How easy is it for feelings to turn
From Summer to Autumn
Both delicious seasons in their own right
The potential of fruitfulness and full flowering
The last gift nature gives
The foraging potential
Trying to gracefully accept what is left over
When the supplies have run out
Somewhere somehow, the moon covered the sun
Too many birds were in one tree
Something bad happens and a lot of people go bad themselves
That’s how awful it is
The news isn’t always bad
Life isn’t shit
When you really look at it
Take another swig and just say fuck it
At least you’ll get a poem or two out of it
I think I’ve paid that debt now
You wanted me to be less guarded
You’d never believe the depths that I sunk to
And what I discarded and what I kept
The dizzying heights that I climbed to
Learning self-restraint
And all from this desk
That I’m sitting at
Right now
I sent off the revised book manuscript for ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ this week, and I changed a lot this time around. I discovered that when ‘art’ changes medium, from live performance to the written word, much needs to adapt. And that was quite a reckoning for me. I realised I had taken a lot for granted as performer; many words and phrases I was able to gloss over before now stood out in glaring disobedience. The way something is written down matters, because it’s fixed in place, and not gone the moment it’s spoken out loud. Every punctuation mark was agonised over - like I said, I’ve spent a lot of time at my desk this Winter.
And from tomorrow I’m tearing myself away from this cosy nook, and getting down to some rehearsing. For the next two weeks I’ll need to concentrate on ‘Frontal Lobotomy’ as I have an online gig, and want to film and edit some sections for the Patreon account I started just after Christmas. Working on that show feels so easy and comfortable to me now, though I still don’t like filming myself all that much. Online poetry gigs don’t feel as awkward as they used to - I guess all new things are uncomfortable at first.
When I performed an extract of ‘Testy Manifesto’ for the first time back in November 2019, the host of Cabaret Playroom and I spoke about my very first burlesque act, we have known each other for years, and that’s how she remembered me. It was a Mary Poppins act (I called it ‘Lolly Poppins’) and when I told her that my latest work was based around domestic abuse she said; “Well, we’re a long way from Cherry Tree Lane now.” Indeed we are. Weirdly enough, another friend who was in the audience that night brought up Mary Poppins too: “Is there a way to reference Poppins in this new work?” I think there is - I used a Suffragettes ‘Votes For Women’ sash in the Poppins act, it has hung as decoration in my living room for the past two years, and it’s going to feature in the new show. Why not? The Suffragettes were radical activists, and that fits with my message. They weren’t perfect, some of their policies were racist, and thankfully feminism has progressed since then. I think I will bring back the hatstand too, at least I’ll have somewhere to hang my coat rather than chucking it on the floor.
This month I also completed a mammoth arts council project grant application. The one I submitted in October was declined, but looking back I wasn’t ready then. Now the project has ballooned, and I’ve partnered with several domestic abuse charities / agencies. It’s been great to talk about my work with people who share my values, and great to think about this show having some sort of practical benefit for staff and survivors, just really great. I’ve come away from those phone conversations beaming from head to toe, and with copious amounts of renewed mojo. I hope it’s successful, high functioning domestic abuse survivors need support too, y’know. And I am so ready now.
I’m still writing new poems, sometimes they just want to come out, and I let them, no point fighting. I’ve started compiling a separate anthology of Orphan Poems. I wish now I’d made a record of the ones I wrote for FL which I later cut from the show, I’ve learned to value all of my work now, not just what I think is good enough. All of it has some use, somewhere.
Looking forward to Springtime,
JJlF xx
There’s a bolt on my door now
I lock it behind me
There’s a line of salt where carpet meets metal
Just to make sure
A tourmaline top
Electromagnetic
There’s a lock on my door now
There’s a crack in my heart now
You sanded it smooth
Where the younger, paler wood met yew
The rain started
The shape swelled
Hot air applied
Theres’ a gap in my heart now
There’s the smell of lavender now
It lingers like judgement
I think of tea ceremonies, words as weapons
Things you’ll never know
Bunches in the window
Sorceress perfume
There’s the scent of lavender now
My strings are much tighter now
I could snap at any moment
I’ve sat in our places, gazed at what we saw
When we were just wasting time
The weather turned
Fungi appeared
My strings are still stinging me
There’s a burn in my stomach now
Something I’m still purging
I’m thinking in cycles, in spirals, trines, oppositions, conjunctions, transits
I’m looking at Mars, full frontal
I’m seeing decay
I’m rotting from the inside out
Hipbones jutting
There’s a hole in my stomach now, dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a twinge somewhere I just can’t place
There’s a debt to be paid
To whom or where or why or how, I don’t know
I’m suspended in secrets
Tied up in a bow
I’m turning to face it
For when Pluto squares Pluto, there’ll be hell to pay
And I’ll be covered in debris
There’s a pattern here, distant yet familiar to me
Something I’m still learning
I’m thinking in new age newsletters, transcriptions, proofing, so much writing
Excavating, discovering an ancient city covered in volcanic dust
Deep rooting, learning about survival
So much staring, drifting, recording, reaching, wondering, wandering
Calming nervous system, needing something to do with my hands
Swimming up and down
Dreaming of otters
Dreaming of you often
How easy is it for feelings to turn
From Summer to Autumn
Both delicious seasons in their own right
The potential of fruitfulness and full flowering
The last gift nature gives
The foraging potential
Trying to gracefully accept what is left over
When the supplies have run out
Somewhere somehow, the moon covered the sun
Too many birds were in one tree
Something bad happens and a lot of people go bad themselves
That’s how awful it is
The news isn’t always bad
Life isn’t shit
When you really look at it
Take another swig and just say fuck it
At least you’ll get a poem or two out of it
I think I’ve paid that debt now
You wanted me to be less guarded
You’d never believe the depths that I sunk to
And what I discarded and what I kept
The dizzying heights that I climbed to
Learning self-restraint
And all from this desk
That I’m sitting at
Right now
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