24.09.17 – Hastings Fringe Festival

The Beacon, Hastings, 7pm

A free night of music, comedy, poetry and dance, featuring:

Carol Prior (compere), Chris Fraser, Carmina Masoliver, Miranda Gavin, Las Pasionarias, JC McFee, Mellow Baku, Alice Denny.

We will be raising money for The Penny Beale Memorial Fund, which has been created to preserve and protect the physical and mental health of persons who are or have been victims of domestic violence and to advance the education of the public, including local authorities and voluntary bodies, by the provision of information, advice and training programmes into the causes, remedies and prevention of domestic violence. Charity No. 1110528.

She Grrrowls does Edinburgh PBH Fringe Free Festival 2017

After my first fringe run, it’s hard to know what I’m feeling, but, I’m so glad that I’ve done it. I viewed it as a learning experience, and wanted to sell some of the 100 books that were delivered to my hostel. I could just about fit the 50 books that were left in my suitcase, so I feel like I did what I set out to achieve. In celebration, I also got my first two tattoos: a heart on my wrist, because that’s where I wear it, and leopard print on my shoulder, to symbolise She Grrrowls.


In terms of learning, I think I could have flyered better in terms of exit-flyering more rigorously. I did well with the Wee Blue Book, but the people taking them weren’t necessarily my audience, and I feel like people who would have liked it weren’t always reached. I tried to pace myself, but as a lone wolf, I saw more shows than people, and could have put myself out there more in terms of meeting other poets etc. Tim Wells bumped into me flyering and stressed the importance of networking, but it isn’t my best skill. For this, I was grateful for people like John Osborne who invited me to hang out at the Book Festival, which I didn’t know much about. Sadly, coming down with a cold meant I had to propose getting well again, but towards the end of the month I was also able to hang out with Tyrone Lewis and Jake Wild Hall from Boomerang Club, and met a few people through them. It was actually BC, along with Joel Auterson who inspired me to take She Grrrowls to the fringe having seen they did it the previous year.

The Fringe is so expensive to attend, even with a free venue, and so I wasn’t expecting to make a profit, or break even, but just hoped to have some money to help me get by. It had put me out of pocket for many months when working in Spain, and it was thanks to a week of teaching work in Wimbledon that I even had money to buy food. I have no savings. The only thing to alleviate the stress what when I secured a couple more weeks of work for September, and started to do interview for tutoring jobs from my hostel kitchen. I was paying over £800 for a mixed 6-bed dorm,  and although this resulted in many sleepless nights due to snoring guests, the location was perfect, and it was pretty clean with a well-equipped kitchen. Doing a solo show I think I’d need something better, but I managed to survive it.

Initially, I was nervous about flyering, and not too excited to have to host the show. I found I surprised myself in both these areas. Flyering was okay when I could be myself, and there were hundreds of others doing the same. Hosting each night felt like I was training a set of muscles. However, there were a few times sexism reared its head. Once a man spoke to me about my event then asked to shake my hand. Except he brought it to his frog-like lips and kissed it. I felt violated. Then there was a time when a guy walked past, whipped a flyer out my hand only to throw it to the gutter – normally, not much to think of, except it seemed a deliberate reaction to the word “feminism” emboldened on the flyer. Just after this a group of guys I recognised (possibly fellow poets) approached me. At first they seemed friendly, but what they said to me was strange, hostile and intimidating. I doubted they would behave the way they did to a man, so regarded it as an act of sexism. And it wasn’t just me: Fay Roberts wrote an account for this problem here.

I did a few feature sets at nights such as Raise the Bar: Poetry Versus and That’s What She Said. Another thing I would have done would be more features and open mics, but this required more planning than I had realised, and I wasn’t quite sure where to look.  I did suffer from “fringe flu” at one point, which was when the wonderful Jane Bradley, host of TWSS, gave me a lovely bag of goodies like grapes and tea and lozenges. When I wasn’t flyering, seeing shows, or doing shows, I was writing reviews for The Norwich Radical (one, two, and three), and applying for tutoring jobs for when I returned to London. This means I’m going to soon become self-employed when I start taking on tutoring clients.

I saw so many incredible shows that it would be impossible to list them all, but I will try now, and did try to tweet about them all during the fringe (categories may cross over).

Comedy

KMT by Athena Kugblenu

Elsa by Isobel Rogers

What Women Want by Amy Annette

Sticky Digits by Pamela DeMenthe

Galpals

The Lol Word

Adele is Younger Than Us

Hurricane Katie by Katie Pritchard

How to be Good at Everything by Next Best Thing

The Conscious Uncoupling by Rosie Wilby

All KIDing Aside by Christel Bartelse

Molesting the Corpse of Traditional Masculinity Since 1987 by Henry Ginsberg

London Hughes: Superstar

Shit! I’m in Love with You Again by Rachelle Elie

 

Poetry

Above the Mealy-Mouthed Sea by Jemima Foxtrot

Circled in the Radio Times by John Osborne

Frankie Vah by Luke Wright

Anxiety and Animal GIFs by Hannah Chutzpah

My Cloth-Eared Heart by Melanie Branton

Neil Hillborn

That’s What She Said

Porky the Poet

Fifty Grades of Shame by Sophia Blackwell

An Evening with an Immigrant by Inua Ellams

No Rest for the Lizard by Gecko

A Matter of Race

Struggle With Purpose by Patrick Shand

Loud Poets

 

Theatre

This Really is Too Much

Happy Hour by Jack Rooke

Socially (Un)acceptable

Brutal Cessation

Show Me The Money by Paula Varjack

Jane Doe

Quarter-Life Crisis by Yolanda Mercy

Good Girl by Naomi Sheldon

The Vagina Dialogues

Side Orders

Syd & Sylvia by Claudia Jefferies

At the end of the run I had a couple of nights still, catching the rest of the shows I could, and trying to do some non-fringe stuff. Having had a picnic for dinner on Calton Hill the night before, I treated myself to a lovely meal at MUMS after climbing Arthur’s Seat on my final day, and had my first try of haggis with a Full Scottish Breakfast the next morning (I spread it on toast and finished it, but I’m more of a hash brown girl). After cooking for myself everyday, aside from exactly two portions of chips and gravy, for the whole month, it was a worthy reward. I’d also been veggie the whole time, so meat was quite a treat.

Now it’s onto the next chapter – the book launch at The Five Bells in New Cross on Wednesday 20th September!

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Munecas: International Anthology Against Child Abuse: Volume 2 (Coleccion Grito de Mujer)

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You can now read my poetry in Spanish in this collection.

Ahora, puedes leer mi poema ‘Barras para monos’ en Espanol aqui

Promo Antologia Muñecas.

No Habla Español: English Woman Living in Spain #9

So, it seems fitting that this is only my ninth post about my time in Spain. As a person who likes round numbers, it leaves a door open for future opportunity to return. For this last post, I have complied a list of things I’ll miss about Spain, as well as those things I’ve been missing from the UK. I came to the country not even a beginner in Spanish, and have since done an online test (from a language school in beloved Battersea, of all places) and the test placed me as a Pre-Intermediate 3 (A2.3 on the CEFR). I have been in Spanish lessons all June, and spent last Saturday reading a story book at the pool, plus the doorman to my building just said I have improved (though he seems to say that a lot!) I’ve been to Granada, and will be finishing my trip in the beautiful Cadiz, where I’ve never been before.

So, here we go with Spain vs. UK.

Weather

So, it’s always around 10 degrees warmer here in Andalusia. That said, it is very hard to keep to a good temperature because it is so expensive. In winter, my apartment just has a choice between air conditioning and an electric radiator. In summer, it’s windows or air con. Bills have been expensive as it is, so it doesn’t feel like much of a choice. The fact there isn’t central heating makes as much sense to me as the UK not having air con (so, equally silly). The summer sun is more reliable here, but I’ll be back to the UK’s unpredictability soon enough.

Food

Whilst away I’ve missed roast dinners, and despite getting my fill over Christmas, I’m salivating now just writing the word gravy (which, by the way is really hard to describe in Spanish – un tipo de salsa?). My favourite Spanish dishes can be had in the UK, and with that in mind, what I appreciate in the UK is the variety of cuisine, and it has made me want to try food from even more nationalities. Even with the summer heat now, the lack of gardens also means a lack of BBQs, which I’ll also look forward to sinking my teeth into on my return. What I will miss most is the availability of churros con chocolate, which are a dessert option in some restaurants, but here are a staple of any good cafe. As well as that, I love that sandwiches are generally plain (no mayo), and on massive delicious bread. Like this tortilla one.

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Drink

Anyone who knows me will know my chocolate and milk habit, which I have as an evening treat – a reward for my hard work. Milk in Spain is not the same, and generally tastes sweeter. I did manage to find a decent skimmed milk, and have recently been popping a mug in the freezer so it is extra chilled. On the other hand, I have no idea how I am going to fill the void of both still lemon juice, and tinto de verano or vargas.  Yes, I can get lemon juice in the UK, but it comes in relatively expensive cartons, and not the nice big bottles you have here, and you can get a bottle of vargas for under a euro. It is so fruity and has low-alcohol content, so it is delicious.

Places

There is an Irish pub in Córdoba, but just isn’t the same. A good pub maintains what is meant by its full name: public house. They are cosy, family-friendly, and serve proper pub food (see: gravy). British children often grow up going to pubs, usually with a playground to accommodate them and I have many fond memories of The Leather Bottle, playing wit friends and eating salt-and-vinegar McCoys with a blackcurrant cordial. I’ve now changed that order to a pint, but what I will take back with me is the smaller measures in Spain. Obviously, they’re more liberal with the spirits (best gin con limón ever), but I love being able to get just a caña or maceta. I feel like I might start getting half pints when back in the UK. Another plus here is that you can get cheap tapas whilst drinking, and sometimes it’s even free.

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Entertainment

I feel a great connection with Spanish music, and have also enjoyed some of the flamenco fusion nights, which are filled with people of all ages, often dancing traditionally. The festivals in May will definitely be calling me back. This kind of culture just can’t be found in the UK if we think about what is traditionally British in terms of dancing… Morris dancing? I’m sorry, but no thank you. In my opinion, nothing quite matches the dancing here, and I would love to learn the sevillianas so I can feel more of a part of it. Despite this, I know I can learn this dance back in London, because again, the UK trumps every time when it comes to variety. I am spoilt for choice having had the fortune to grow up, and still currently be able to live there on my return.

Lifestyle

As much as I miss my family, having lived with my parents for the past five years, living on my own in Spain has been a dream come true. I paid about half my salary to live alone, but I relished this space, not to mention my independence. I’ve been eating less meat (mostly only when I go out), whilst meat or fish is a staple with every meal with my dad’s cooking. For the time I was living and working in London post-university, I started not to take lunch breaks, yet now having the long ‘siesta’ afternoon breaks (I don’t siesta), I have appreciated the importance of a proper break away from work at lunch, cooking my main meal during this time. Of course, this is made easier by living less than five minutes walk away from work. That glory is what I am most going to miss. Still, working in the day time is preferable, but it’s likely that any TEFL work I do back in London will be evening work too. That said, I find this kind of pattern means I see work as part of my day, rather than something to get over and done with.

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People

I’ve made friends here, and I hope to come to visit them next year. That said, a year just isn’t long enough, especially with the transient nature of this work, and if I had better Spanish I would have liked to make more Spanish friends (a lot of the locals who engage with English teachers tend to be men…) I just wish I had come sooner, but like there aren’t enough hours in the day, sometimes it feels like there aren’t enough years in the lifetime. In some ways, I have found it difficult to be away from friends and family, and this was more so when hearing of the news of terror attacks, the Grenfell Tower fire, another fire in Bethnal Green where I used to work, and more personal matters, such as my Great Uncle passing away just last week. I was lucky in that I had friends and family visit, but I am so looking forward to seeing all my friends in the UK again, friends I’ve known from age four, from secondary school, from university, from poetry.

Home

This brings me to one of the things that makes me feel most at home in the UK: our lovely poetry communities. I have already signed up to take part in the Poetry Cafe fundraiser. I’m also going to be at Edinburgh Fringe festival with She Grrrowls (Black Market Room 1, 7:20-8:20 pm). I am feeling anxious, but also excited. So many of my friends have achieved such amazing things in the time that I’ve been gone, and I just can’t wait to see them doing these things (and join in a bit too, hopefully). There’s so much that I want to do, including continuing learning Spanish, and although I obviously won’t be able to do this in the same way without physically being in Spain, to have only been to one poetry event, this is possibly the number one thing that I missed in the time that I have been gone, because I was almost starved of it.

So, I leave here in July, relating to this quote from Suzannah Weiss: Few are familiar with the concept of going somewhere, loving it, and, nevertheless, leaving.

 

10 Hour Poetry Challenge

Fellow member of Kid Glove, Maeve Scullion, has been organising a charity fundraising event for Child.org whereby poets write and perform poems for 10 hours straight. Wanting to take part, but being in Spain, I decided to participate online.

I rarely share my poetry online, and although I have been wanting to record more poems, sharing first draft poems, fresh off the page is something else! I managed to complete the challenge, and I really enjoyed doing it… I had to teach from 5-9pm afterwards, including a group of 9-10 year-olds, so I am exhausted!

Poems can be viewed on Instagram. Please make it worth my time and donate via my sponsorship page. The target between myself and Michelle Madsen is £300, so we have a long way to go!

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So tired, treating myself to a pre-work popsicle.

 

No Habla Español: English Woman Living in Spain #7

So, a friend of mine asked how the Spanish was going today and so I thought about writing this. Here’s your answer, Alys!

I’ve had to be flexible recently as it’s been Semana Santa. It also means I’m having to try to get back into those habits that I’ve now broken, including both physical and mental exercise routines! Instead of using my apps, I’ve done a lot of text-book studying and I’ve got through a lot, which feels like progress. That said, I will have lots of revise too – learning anything is a lot about repetition, which is at times isn’t as fun as learning something new and understanding it.

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Semana Santa processions

I did my first solo trip outside of the UK. to Madrid. I’d been away semi-solo before, and in reality this trip ended up being quite similar. I was in a female dorm in a “party hostel” which was had a great group of girls staying in it and so I had a couple of people to hang out with a lot of the time. Going away made me think how easy it can be to make a home somewhere, for something new to become a comfort zone. It was as if I had forgotten that I had actually come to live in Spain without knowing anyone. Córdoba has become another comfort zone of which to push myself out. And then that hostel room became a comfort zone of sorts.

That said, I did take myself off one night, when my hunger didn’t match up with that of others. I wanted something cheap. I loved Madrid, and with each day I imagined more what it would be like to live there, but it was hard to find good, cheap food. I spoke in Spanish at one place nearby that was shown as cheap on Trip Advisor, but there was no tapas. I spoke to them in Spanish and the cheapest they could offer was a half portion of eggplant at 6 Euros. I apologised, explaining that it was too expensive for me, and left. All in Spanish. Score. I ended up getting Chinese food for the same price including a bunch of noodles and spring rolls and expanding my variety of vocabulary!

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First day, on the walking tour.

In Malaga, with two friends from home, I tried to practise when I knew what to say. I was impressed by one friend who didn’t even study Spanish, but also a little jealous: how could she know all this vocabulary that’s taken me all this time to grasp?! But she also has some knowledge and interest in other languages, such as Greek, Italian and German. They say it’s easier to pick up languages when you know some of others. Then again, both friends were impressed when I was able to tell the waiter at our evening meal that the sangria was good, but the food was not, and managed to get us four tapas taken off the bill.

Initially, I started this journey wanting to become fluent within 10 months. I’ve always been one for setting unrealistic expectations… It stressed me out and tired me out. It was just too much. I’ve been writing a lot of poetry as part of the “40 Sonnets” group… although this year aiming to write one Terza Rima a day. I just finished catching up yesterday and spent all morning writing my diary. I also want to get back into my short stories. And I like to watch Friends with my lunch. So, occasionally I might watch Spanish TV, listen to Spanish music, and speak in Spanish. But I need these other parts of my life in order to feel balanced.

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Malaga

What I am happy about is that I am working hard, enjoying studying, and not feeling worried that I’ll be back at my parents’ house in three months. It’s a starting point and as long as I am consistent and make time to study in some way each day, then I can only go forward. I feel really inspired by students who have studied for 3-4 years at home and have a good level of fluency in English, including grammatical concepts. It makes me think it’s possible for me too, that just because I’ve haven’t yet learnt Spanish from  a couple of years at school, it doesn’t make me “bad at languages”. And it keeps me going to imagine a time where I can travel back to Spain, and go to other Spanish-speaking countries and communicate, that maybe it could even expand my ability to understand and be understood in terms of poetry and literature too.

That reminds me, I really must pick up those graded reading books again…

 

No Habla Español: English Woman Living in Spain #6

I last updated this series around two months ago. The major change that has happened that makes learning a another language so much more important is ‘Brexit’.

Theresa May has signed papers that mean this is actually happening. The “United” Kingdom is leaving the EU. Whilst part of my anger at this is about the freedom of my own movement, and the injustice at having to buy a new blue passport (not to mention the economic impact), what I am really lamenting is my home changing. In some ways, the bubble has simply burst, but a lot of London people like myself like to celebrate the diversity of the capital and parts across the country. Perhaps with rose-tinted glasses, my childhood is remembered as a melting pot of cultures, my own Hispanic roots included. The older I grew, the further afield I went, the more divided communities seemed to me, and fearmongers appeared to up the ante. And now this. Although London voters as a whole wanted to remain in the EU, the rhetoric of the Leave campaign has given free reign to those committing racist and xenophobic attacks all over.

I had a student ask me if I thought that now English wouldn’t be as necessary to learn now. The computer engineer student is interested in working abroad in the future, but he wants to remain in a European country, possibly to to still be close to his family. The city where I am living has so many language schools full of students learning the English language, but after all these years studying, they’re having their future tampered with by, frankly, ignorant people. Ignorant, because it was revealed how many people regretted their vote and didn’t realise what it would happen, or even that it would happen at all. And so, in continuing with my line of work teaching English, the least I can do is keep up with my struggle to improve my Spanish.

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So, I’ve been trying to speak more, confusing the word ‘make-up’ (maquillaje) with ‘butter’ (mantequilla) and feeling awkward in various situations. I’m now ahead on my lesson plans, so I’m spending more time with my head in books, on apps etc. I’ve also been able to speak to more locals and actually practise speaking Spanish with them, resulting in coming home at 2am on a work night – from an Irish bar, of all places (it’s okay, I have Thursday mornings off). I enjoyed it so much, my English workmate was like ‘Why are you speaking in Spanish to me?’ when I tried to keep it up.

I’m also hunting for a traje de gitana/flamenca. This has meant looking at Wallapop, my new favourite app, where you can search for second hand things that are nearby. So, today I walked for half an hour to meet a woman to try on her dress. She had a perfect home, and my ideal dress – red and white varied polka dots, long and traditional, yet modern. As always, when I tried to say how bad my Spanish was, she didn’t seem to understand and still spoke fast and expected me somehow to understand. Sadly, the dress wouldn’t go over my shoulders as the arms were too tight for me. ‘Es muy bonita, pero es demasiado poco en los hombros y los ambroz’ I think I said… I should have said ‘pequeño’ (small) instead of ‘poco’ (little) and ‘brazos’ (arms) instead of whatever the F that word was at the end.

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Earlier on in March I also took part in Grito de Mujer. An incredibly nerve-wracking situation, I was more concerned with not knowing what was going on than reading my poems. Other than missing out on the first few takes of a group photograph, and some of my translations getting lost, it was all fine. Someone did have to translate a bit when I wasn’t sure what the host was saying to me, but at this event, and another, I tried to absorb the Spanish around me. The photo was also in the newspaper, which is pretty cool! You can find out more about the night here.

Lastly, I’ve also started to do the speaking exercises in my textbook by recording myself. I figured it’s better than skipping exercises, and maybe I’ll get to see some progress! It’s super embarrassing to share, so I’m still working out whether I will share more or not, but my first post inspired someone to take up a language, so that seems a good enough reason to keep it up!

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P.S. Give Gibraltar back.

 

Hypocrite

I was at primary school when I first learnt what the word ‘hypocrite’ meant. I remember because I recall shouting it at other players during after-school netball games. I say shouting, but I’m quite softly spoken and so maybe I wasn’t all that loud. But I remember one friend laughing at me as I said it. Those who get close to me will learn this strange mix of vehement-quiet-girl still exists within me (why I’m so excited for the Shy Radicals book).

It was when I was a teenager, that I began to see my parents – and adults in general – as human beings. With flaws. One of those flaws being that they were massive hypocrites. As a child who had school reports detailing my strong sense of right and wrong, it was only natural that I developed this idea that being a hypocrite was not something I wanted to be, and with that I found it hard not to be overly righteous in defending my views. I never believed that I would become a hypocrite.

But maybe I was wrong. If I am to analyse the details of everything I do, I regularly go against what I believe in. I can do a lot better. And although I’m taking steps towards doing better, there will always be things I do that don’t live up to my ideal version of myself, especially when it comes to making money. For example, my current day job is teaching English as a foreign language. It can be a very rewarding job, yet, a big part of me is also uncomfortable about the fact that there is so much demand to learn English. It reminds me of how privileged I am to have been born where I was. Such a small country, such a widespread language, such a horrible history of colonialism.

And here I am, post-Brexit, living in Spain, not able to speak the language – because if you know English, why bother with any other language? Even the one of your heritage. My plan, to return to the UK, hopefully better acquainted with Spanish, and focus on my career as a writer. I feel I haven’t given myself the chance to properly try to live my dream. For a dream, I know it will seem less of that in reality, that it will be a struggle. But then so is working full-time and trying to work in the arts as a second job. It’s time that I make it a priority.

And in doing that, it’s likely my morals may be called into question. I might still be a hypocrite, and I might face dilemmas. Except maybe the money will be too much of a temptation, because I already auditioned for an advert for Transport for London because it paid more than my annual wage at the time (I’m now earning about half that annual wage, but my mental health is a lot better and I’m living in my own apartment instead of with my parents). And this dilemma is if I am lucky. Whenever I have seen other poets at Buckingham Palace, or on adverts, I have been excited for them, knowing that (despite the moral implications) I would be honoured to be asked and can’t imagine doing anything other than accept it. Even if I did feel uneasy about it.

This is for the same reason that I accepted my first job offer after I finished my MA and stayed there for 4 years. Because I have been taught that things are so bad that I should be grateful for whatever I can get. But right now, I have taken a risk and applied for Edinburgh Fringe Festival and booked to stay at a hostel for a month. It’s nearly double my current rent. I’m trying to save, but I am worried about being able to afford it. I thought about applying for some extra work that would ease these worries – £1000 for a month’s work online – but in the end, I wasn’t sure I would be able to commit to it on top of my full-time job teaching.

So, to imagine the fee that comes with doing adverts, such as the Nationwide ones, knowing that it could enable me to live my dream. It would be too good to refuse. And as another poet pointed out, it is the system that is the problem, and most of the time we are just trying to live. I’ve worked for minimum wage for WHSmith, JD Wetherspoons and Sainsbury’s. It doesn’t mean I agree with what they stand for, so if I was asked to pen a poem for those same companies, would it be any different? Perhaps it would, being that you are publicly associating your own brand as a poet with their brand, therefore it is a kind of endorsement that isn’t as true being a sales/bar assistant, which carries with it an element of anonymity, of being part of a uniformed mass.

In the midst of debate around the Nationwide adverts, although admitting he respects the poets in the ads, poet Luke Wright sparked debate with his poem Renegade Poets, which I think is what was intended. It is not so much the poets in the ads being targeted, but rather opening up a discussion about what it means when we accept these opportunities, especially for those of us who write political pieces and are vocal about things like Feminism and Capitalism. ‘McGough is doing Waitrose, and Clarkey’s doing chips…’ Wright says, while acknowledging it’s not about one specific case, and that it’s not new.

He laments about the art that is lost, the compromise you have to have, when selling your work in this way. One line that struck me was: ‘if nobody wants to see your show, it’s probably not good enough’, because part of me thinks there’s more to it than that. For example, with She Grrrowls, the audience can vary widely in numbers, and sadly I think being a feminist night, featuring women, this makes it more niche. Then again, there’s also music and comedy, which are arguably less niche than poetry. I have also had a promotor basically tell me that I don’t bring enough audience to the show. Whilst that may be true, I would never say that to one of my acts. It’s rude and patronising.

Nevertheless, the sentiment harks back to that line in Wright’s poem. If you are familiar with Wright’s work, you’ll see that at least in this sense, he practises what he preaches. How do you make something good enough? You work hard at it. At the night Homework, as well as in his solo shows, you can see the effort that goes into creating quality pieces, and the poem Renegade Poets is a great poem too, with an ending that really drives the point home.

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The point being to think more about making these decisions, instead of doing what I imagine I might do – just see the money and and say yes. So, yes it’s important to think about this topic, but at the moment, I don’t think I’m able to make a decision. I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong in all contexts, but something that comes down to an individual company and what they stand for, and the person making that choice.

When I did my MA in Creative Entrepreneurship five years ago, part of me thought that if I had the right tools I could be successful in the arts. I grew up with two teachers as parents and they worked hard in their field and have been able to provide me with a good life. I have become slightly disillusioned since graduating and working, that although we were taught that the “struggling artist” cliche is a myth that doesn’t have to be fulfilled, I still fear know that by taking a risk later this year, I will living on the “cabbage budget” and may never see the “champagne budget”.

Disillusioned, but only slightly. I still hold on to my dream, and feel I have to give myself that chance. On another  related note, Roxane Gay recently pulled publication of her next book How to Be Heard after ‘alt-right’ Milo Yiannopoulos received a $250,000 advance from Simon & Schuster. It is an act of protest. She has been able to stand by her morals and principles, but she has also been quoted by The Guardian as saying ‘I can afford to take this stand. Not everyone can. Remember that.’ Whether these moral choices are something we can do from the start of our career, or whether it is something success enables us to do so is still up for debate. I may be a hypocrite now, but I will try to push myself and do better.

Late Bloomers

It was recently National Poetry Day, and a feeling waved over me that has been kept at bay since being in Spain. It has been around a month now, and I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. Aside from the usual stresses that come and go, especially when settling into a new place, I have had no doubt that coming here has been the right decision.

Yet, I still feel a pull back to London, something partly a fear of missing out (FOMO), but also more than that. FOMO has become all the more common since the age of social media. This means that I am seeing so many of my peers in poetry do all these amazing things I wish I was going. To be clear, I am pleased for their success, but I feel a gnawing at me that I have never really given myself a chance to truly reach my potential in writing.

I know that with full dedication, I am capable of doing what others are doing, in carving a space in the poetry world where it is possible to make some sort of living from what you love doing. So, I know that I want to return, to give myself that chance to blossom without having to dedicate so many hours to a full-time job. At twenty-eight, I will be doing this much later than anticipated, but I wouldn’t necessarily be where I am now if I had done anything differently up to this point. And, like I said, I’m happy where I am.

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Beautiful Cordoba

The point is, that one of the things that has been infringing on my contentedness is my own habit of comparing myself to others. Especially when others are younger than me. I berate myself for not having that version of success, for not doing what they’re doing. Even when I’m actually doing something completely different, with its own set of goals. I mean, how amazing would it be if, by the end of the year, I could actually speak Spanish. If I could write and perform poems in Spanish. I’m having an experience that may just be for this one year, and so I need to appreciate every moment of it.

I came here to learn Spanish, to make that my priority. I’m going to be having around 8 hours of lessons a week, plus homework, plus living somewhere that I can gradually use it in everyday life. The concierge at my block of flats already told me that I was getting better… after I asked how he was. I’m in the lowest group at A1 level, but I hope that with a bit of hard work, and a bit of Duo Lingo, that I can improve. I’m also obviously working to teach English as a foreign language, and still acquiring a whole lot of skills whilst doing it.

I’m still writing all the usual things – poems, stories, articles… blog posts! Just because I’m not earning money for the writing I’m doing at the moment, doesn’t mean I have to hand back my “writer” badge. So, in the vein of these thoughts, I wrote a poem that I started in the early hours of the morning following National Poetry Day having been busy with things not poetry related. It’s dedicated to all the late bloomers out there. Enjoy.

Singapore #Top 5

  1. Poetry night

While it may not be the number one for everyone, as a poet, getting to read some new poems at a night in another country was an incredible highlight. It was just like any other night, but so surreal to think I was in Singapore. It was such a contrast to come to a country where you just slot in, and people don’t hold you on a pedestal. Everyone was so talented, and the content and perspective of the people there was so interesting, not to mention the range of different accents and the use of Singlish. I loved the area that it was in, and it made me feel I could live there, but I just don’t know what I would do there as English is an official language there. It’s nights like this that give you a real sense of the place, so I would recommend it to everyone.

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  1. Gardens by the Bay

Singapore is clean and immaculately designed, including its gardens. We saw the sunset as these gardens lit up. There was a lightshow with the “supertrees”, but nearby there was also a light and water show to music, and that was pretty spectacular to see. The thing about Singapore is that there is also a relaxed vibe to it. The transport can get a bit crowded at times, but nothing compared to the over-crowding in London, where I’m from, and there aren’t nearly as many people in terms of the ratio to space, so just that feeling of it being more spacious makes you feel good when strolling around.

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  1. Botanic Gardens

We went here on the morning of our flight, getting up at 6am in order to make the most of the little time we had in Singapore. Yet again, another aspect of Singapore that made me imagine living there. It was so peaceful and beautiful to walk around, sit and talk, and there were a few runners about too.

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  1. Sestona Beach

What more could you ask for with a city but it having a beach? Whilst I didn’t get to swim in it, we had fun walking around the island and looking from the viewpoint there. There’s also a theme park there, which we didn’t go to. We tried to spend as little money as possible, because, unlike the rest of South East Asia, it is more expensive due to being richer and more Westernised. There’s plenty of entertainment we didn’t explore such as the different zoos (without cages).

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  1. Chinatown and Little India

In between the shiny parts of Singapore are Chinatown and Little India. We ate in these parts a couple of times, as well as in a mall food court. The Indian food we had on the first night was so different and flavoursome, and completely vegetarian. The dish in Chinatown was super simple: noodles, soy and chicken, but – oh my god – I had not had chicken like that in months because it was a lot of breast meat from a rotisserie and cooked to perfection. It was also cool to walk around in these areas, which could be really colourful, and you could also come across different places of worship, which had sections cornered off for worship, as well as some sarongs to borrow to cover up.

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Tips: Get a travel-card for your time there, which allows you to travel through the whole city and save money. You simply hand it back at the airport station to get your deposit back. I also had an out of date map, which told me the incorrect stations, so make sure to double check the nearest station online. Our hostel, Bunc Hostel, was great because they gave you a smart device that meant you could use maps and the internet on the go. You just have to return it undamaged at the end of your stay!