short poem. bread and butter. love.

sublime
although
it's only
bread and
butter

Edward Pugh. young writers. Ruthin.

I have just had a wonderful day with the talented young writers of the fabled Denbighshire Writing Squad. We were at the Ruthin Craft Centre, and spent the day writing in celebration of the Ruthin born artist and travel writer Edward Pugh.

Bethan Hughes, from the Denbighshire Library service, who organises the Squad, had brought with her a copy of Pugh's Book - AN ACTUAL COPY! dated 1816. Wow. It was beautiful.

Edward Pugh was the first person to write an account of travelling round North Wales actually talking to and engaging with the inhabitants, Welsh not being a language spoken by English tourists who came in search of the picturesque. He was observant, compassionate, and very funny. 

 

The young writers produced work as if they were travel writers, using themselves as material. There was a lot of editing to get the pieces to a high standard.

 

 The youngsters were brilliant. They must be exhausted this evening - I am!

 The Squad's work will be used in various Pugh projects this year.

John Barrell's new book 'Edward Pugh of Ruthin, A Native Artist' has just been published.

self portrait in a tuba

While the brass ensemble and I were waiting to step onto the stage in the spacious foyer of the Wales Millennium Centre yesterday, I caught sight of myself reflected in the shiny tuba.

I am not a great one for self portraits but this seemed too good an opportunity to miss. 

On the left is a musician wearing a yachting cap, and you can see part of a stripy t shirt and a pirate-hatted musician on the right.

We performed SEA DOGS twice, and had a great time. Our audiences were mostly dressed as pirates, as were the ensemble and me. 

I am thinking of a series of self portraits, reflected in musical instruments.

Yo ho!

Sea Dogs. A jolly nautical musical piece. Ahoy!

Here is a link to Sound Cloud, where you can hear SEA DOGS, a piece for narrator and brass ensemble, words by me, and music by the brilliant Gareth Wood.

It's a jolly pirate tale, of nephews, dogs, a ghost, and wind.

https://soundcloud.com/francescakaypoet/sea-dogs-a-pirate-tale-for

27 minutes of wonderful music and salt encrusted silliness.

The brass ensemble are from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. Here's a picture of me and the very high powered and serious conductor and Head of Brass, Kevin Woods.

And here's the Jolly Roger flying over St Asaph Cathedral, on the day of the premier, 2 years ago.

There are two performances in the foyer of Wales Millennium Centre on Monday 24th June, with a student brass ensemble from the University of Wales, conducted by fellow student David Langley, and narrated by me. 10.30 and 1.30. Stand by for  audiences of lots of small children dressed up - oh and the ensemble and me as well.

Argh!

found alphabet number 5. The letter Y

Here is a rather good capital letter Y

It's the stem of Old Man's Beard, the wild clematis.

Number 5 in my quest for a complete found alphabet!

Forwards and onwards.

found ampersand number 1

Opening the car door in the car park this morning I saw a rather lovely ampersand on the ground.

I have decided to make it number one number one in a new series of found ampersands. I fear it may be a while before I find another.

sancho. cowboy boots. a dream realised

My long held dream of a pair of Sancho cowboy boots has finally been realised.

I can now wear them all the time, and without the faintest hint of irony.
With thanks to my friend Rachel who reminded me how much I love Sancho cowboy boots.
If only everything was so easy to achieve.
I was going to write a poem to celebrate them, but they are poetry all by themselves.

Here is an outbreak of Sancho in my back garden. Fabulous.

poem. obscured. destination.

 

destination

an idea obscured

perhaps

more than

the present

path

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I couldn't quite believe the veil of rain and mist in West Wales yesterday.

genuine piece of magic. columbine flowers.

I only know one piece of real magic. Here it is. Aquilegia, or columbine, is a much loved early summer garden flower. Here is a lovely one from my garden,

It's a flower that those who love gardens know really well, and they are a delight in the flower border. The name 'columbine' comes from the latin 'columba' meaning dove. Have another look at the flower. Can you see the little doves?

And now you will always see them. And I think that's a genuine piece of magic.

Lohengrin. opera. sandwiches. cake

I usually expect to doze comfortably through the second act of an opera, and awake with some good ideas for poetry in my mind. However, the WNO production of Lohengrin at Wales Millenium Centre this evening was so thrilling and beautiful that I stayed conscious for the whole evening.

Our usual Wagner tribute picnic in the two intervals celebrated the swan, of course. Here are the sandwiches, photographed on a stylish leatherette seat;

and here is the cake, with a curiously relevant cake tin in the background;

paeony. sudden departure. summer flowers.

                            I have had three  paeony flowers in a pot on the mantelpiece.

This morning the flowers had dropped nearly all their petals.

I know they are only flowers but their sudden departure was rather upsetting,

then I saw one of them had left me a heart on the sitting room floor.

ampersand obsession. update.

My ampersand obsession has flowered with the help of my friend Rachel.

We are collecting images to make a zine.

An andzine, of course.

It's a huge subject.

We could be at it forever. With an ampersand, you never have to stop

poem. almost enough.

  in the garden a

bird sings the sky
is blue there is
no noise from traffic the
tree whispers leaves are
shining the air is
warm what a beautiful
quiet place

haiku. red leaves. breeze

red leaves
leaves shiver, soft breeze -
gently, inevitable,
a moving embrace




the cherry blossom has gone, but the red leaves look so lovely