Sharing the notes . . .

It’s intriguing, it is, how a shared set of thoughts becomes something else altogether when someone else thinks along with you.

My notes on our walk a couple days ago raised a comment, and in the ensuing email conversation the concept of ‘poetic process’ came to light. I had to confess that I couldn’t see, personally, what sort of themes my observations might be conveying. But when we thought about the notes together, a new idea sparked and suddenly, as I can now relate, a parallel mission arose:

Your poetic task:  . . . . . 
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [the process is percolating, still]
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
but first, I think, share notes with others
get feedback
consider their observations
enlarge the context
grab a carrier bag
psych yourself up for the jaunt
forget the jacket, you’ll get hot
away we go
the first Raw Energy can
not one, not two, four red kites circling above
not the most opportune time to leave the big camera
carry on, the mission awaits
a doggy poo bag
faded Irn-Bru can
blackened plastic bottles
vodka, not whisky
coarse triangle wedges of expanded polystyrene
a rubber ring
a tattered doggy frisbee
another doggy poo bag 
(leave the exposed doggy poo to rot)
blasted plastic bags
clambering down and then up, quite a scramble
eee, I was young once, huffing and puffing
pieces of lumber, place ‘em for a return carry
more bottles and more cans
more scrambles, down, sideways, back up
you see different things on the way back
tablet blister pack
a heavy can — was it a kettle?
two feed bins down at the bottom
the bag’s getting heavy
the broken egg cup
the crockery piece strategically placed in a tree fork
the Red Bull’s across the stream, nogo
the deflated football
and here we are home again
shift the bag through the door and out the back
open the rubbish bin and tip it in
such a lot of stuff!
try to remember what you got
write it down

Well, there’s one more component to this exercise, this note-taking of a simple walk.

The epiphany, to drop a broad hint, encompassed this final component. The resolution must await another day.

For now, the joy’s revealed in both the exercise, and the sense of satisfaction at accomplishing something worthwhile.

3 responses to “Sharing the notes . . .”

  1. Larry, Seeing your pic for Today’s Joy reminds me that even the mundane can be inspiration for a writer such as yourself. After reading your text one of my off topic thoughts came to me. No matter where we go it is not likely that we see things nor that we are the first to take steps on the ground before us. Yet each of us, especially introspectives, are thinking & reacting in our own way. Seeds are planted that may germinate into poems or stories for writers. When seeds of thought are planted it doesn’t natter how many people have been “there” before.


  2. Fiona Bernhoeft Avatar
    Fiona Bernhoeft

    You’ve given me the joy of that truly fabulous photograph, Larry. The palette, the composition, the elevation of rubbish to Art…

    I would love a jumper in those colours … or maybe a quilt??


  3. Well, I’m sure, Henry, that I’m not the first to pass by the rubbish and think, man, somebody should collect that! But I think that Fiona is teasing me, when my real joy is just seeing that stuff safely in the bin where it belongs! I never thought of the quick snap as anything valuable. But there again, we’ve just spent a happy Saturday afternoon looking at the knitwear exhibition (from Chanel to Westwood) at the Dovecot Studios, Edinburgh, with a special section on Fairisle jumpers. It seems that the unlikely fashion icon who first popularised them, as a waistcoat anyway, was Prince Edward, later Edward VIII, before he abdicated for Wallis Simpson. There were a great many confusing colours in the exhibition, not a few of which might have been like the rusty reds, pale orange, greens, blues and turquoise within the grey bin. I might sneak a photo of that section into a joy at some later date!


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