I prefer to write in long-hand at first. The resultant sheets are then edited 2 or 3 times, or discarded altogether, before typing out into a Word document. That's when the more exacting editing begins, and probably sees me printing off some pages so I can walk about the lounge reading them out loud, seeing how the grammar flows.
Top: An old canal gate, Perlethorpe. This would once have controlled the flow to a Mill, which has long since gone.
Bottom: An imagined sketch of a field after harvest time.
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
I try to make sense of things. I should stop. Dramatic changes in the #UK are not due to incompetence. That’s the mistake people make. They are desired and intended. But their endgame is a mystery to me, and will no doubt remain so.
I used to think I knew what the role of a King or Mayor or policeman was. But I don’t. I used to think I knew how the benefit system, housing, or NHS worked. But I don’t. I used to think I knew what shoplifting meant. But I don’t.
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
Top: A nice latte by the River Trent
Bottom: A seat at Tithe Green burial grounds, getting rather neglected.
I am still watching the cholesterol, but a treat now and then doesn't hurt. In this case, a Sainsburys pie. There is no significance in the rainbow. I just liked the mug.
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
Sketching trees in Thoresby Park.
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
I think I may have completed the second part of my intended novel, after much pausing and thinking over recent weeks. I like working in long hand at the start. Editing follows, firstly as I type, then many subsequent times as I read it.
I still have no idea about the title, and there are some place names I need to sort out. Every time I make a name up I discover on Google it's a real place. Also, in spite of blue skies today, I am so cold that motivation is hard.
Spent today, and yesterday, editing. The 5th and 6th chapters have been difficult, putting events in the correct order, making sure characters assumed ages are in line with events. I think I’ve solved it all now, and should be able to complete the 6th tomorrow. That will mean the second part of the book is done, the first being completed some time ago.
Yesterday also saw me falling over on the pavement outside, both knees grazed and bruised. TCP & ice pack applied. My jeans seemed not to have suffered at all. Is age finally catching up on me? Me and my stiff fingers, in a room which always seems cold? It’s been a long time coming. But my reflexes are still good, according to an emergency stop I made as a young deer jumped out in front of my car in Budby.
Elsewhere in the news, the Taxman says I owe him £550 pounds. It seems he had underestimated the Interest I was getting on my savings account.
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
Caught the bus into the city this morning. Free pass after 9.30. This is a very rare event nowadays. I don’t drink anymore, so if I fancy a daytime coffee alone I’d rather take the car and drive in the opposite direction to an outside venue. Not that it’s warm enough to even contemplate that at present. I’ve never known the skies so overcast and grey, and the days so cold for so long as it has been these past weeks.
Today’s trip was just for the annual eye test. All continues to be well in that respect. I don’t think I’ve had a prescription change in some years. So I thought a Waitrose snack on veggie simosas and sushi was in order.
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
The wardrobe and the dressing table drawers were full of old, old lady clothes. Brim full. The kitchen cupboards and drawers the same, of various and countless products and utensils. The carpet was soiled across its entire surface, the stair’s chair lift, clearly not used over recent years, in a similar state of neglect, whilst the pièce de résistance must have been the copper boiler tank, covered in what seemed to be a coat of cement. No doubt a well-intended amateur attempt at insulation. But that wasn’t the final indicator in what I surmise had happened here. Down beside one of the armchairs stood a half full water bottle. Totally undisturbed. Like a final witness to the room’s events and what must have happened here a month or two ago.
Leaving her clothes behind, no longer needed if the destination was to be a care home, the body of the previous occupant would have been taken to wherever old lady bodies are taken to at life’s end. And no-one to take her old, old lady clothes and belongings away from the property before potential buyers like myself pass nosily through.
All text copyright ian gordon craig.
More sketches to keep my Twitter / X active. It's too cold to be outside looking for resources and ideas. So let the imagination run free. The sketch of an oak tree in a clearing, is from a theme I worked on several years ago.
All artwork & text copyright ian gordon craig
I’ve posted about this in the past, but as she’s back I’ll mention it again.
When
I was 10, walking along a country path on my way to school, I had an
encounter with a fox. At first, because she didn’t run away, I assumed
it was a dog and started chatting to her. It was when she slowly turned
and walked away that I saw it was a fox, and also apparently pregnant.
During
my final year as a teacher I started seeing foxes again. These were the
months I was starting to think about leaving work, making that big
change. I remember on two occasions a fox crossing the road in front of
my car as I was heading for home. I remember one evening seeing one sat
outside the chip shop I was visiting. And there were many visits to my
garden during those years from 2006 to 2010 when I was in a relationship
and concentrating on my art. That’s when my story about having a
“spirit animal guide” started, and I named her Rusty Pearl. She seemed
to turn up when big changes were on the way, and my mind was
pre-occupied with them.
Last night she turned up again, for the
first time in years. Lately my mind has been troubled about the state
England has sunk to, the changes in my city and neighbourhood, and my
serious intention to move house. I think Rusty is saying “Go on, do it,
make the move”.
All text copyright ian gordon craig.
I keep my Twitter / X page going, mostly by posting sketches. Maybe it
will attract potential customers for my book(s)? The above invoked a
question on my Painters On-line page:
“What is the purpose of the white oblongs?”
What indeed?
all text and artwork copyright ian gordon craig
My "activity wall". Last October I returned to my intended novel with a
little more organisation in mind. I have six chapters almost finished.
That would represent the first and second sections of the book. (The
1940s & 1950s). As each chapter is presented as a series of events,
rather than a simple story line with start and end points, it has been a
little tricky including all the parts I want included, in the correct
order. I keep getting stuck on chapters 5 and 6. Or perhaps it’s the
space between them that’s in need of more content.
It would be
fair to say I have been going ’round in circles over this, to the extent
that my "activity wall" would best be named "inactivity".
All text and photographs copyright ian gordon craig.
I still like to wander around the homeland from time to time. I guess I always will.
All photographs copyright ian gordon craig.
It is one year since the publication of my first book, “46 Contemporary Poems in Various Styles”.
It’s been a year of sketchbooks, keeping my Twitter / X page active, as a place to promote my book and my art. One might say it’s been a year of promotions. But it’s also been a year, at least the last few months, of starting my second book. And this I have done.
All text and photographs copyright ian gordon craig.
Top to bottom: Parliament Oak, the Major Oak, a witch, and Byron's Oak, Newstead Abbey (only the stump remains).
Below: Felled tree and a Lightning Tree, Thoresby Park.
All artwork copyright ian gordon craig
Today I made a trip into town to place copies of my book inside those venues I once frequented, and wherein some of the inspiration came from. The trip resulted in an encounter which left a lasting impression.
I don’t give money to the homeless, but I always buy them a sandwich & drink lunch if I see them outside the store I get my groceries from. The guy I came across today was situated nowhere near a food store. So, in high spirits, I asked him if he read poetry, and gave him a copy of my book.
It transpired that not only does he read poetry, he writes it as well, and commenced to recite two for me. They were incredible! So there were, exchanging poems on the pavement. Good times.
I encouraged him to self-publish. But I don’t know how the homeless could access that facility.
All text copyright ian gordon craig.
Strolling around town today, with no particular intention. A young Hari Krishna guy asked me for a donation. I have no cash on me, not that I would have donated anyway, but offered a verse of the song instead. So, there I was, middle of a busy central city side-walk, singing a verse of “Hari Krishna, Hari Hari”. (You know the tune). His face lit up.
All text copyright ian gordon craig.
Some silliness on Twitter / X, when I know I really should be writing. This is the problem with social media, even when one is not really sociable. The urge to get noticed overrides all sense.
All artwork copyright Ian Gordon Craig
