Creative workshop: Multilingual poems by Elizabeth Gibson

 Hello!

 This is Elizabeth, and I have a workshop for you on multilingual poetry. Do you need to be multilingual to take part? No! If you speak just one language you can still join in.

 I speak several languages, and have long incorporated them in my work. See this poem which is based around the Mandarin Chinese names for planets.

 For me, comparing words in different languages is fascinating. The last thing I would think to call Mercury is Water Star, yet I find the name beautiful and apt.

 The Mandarin Chinese for water is "Shui", pronounced "Shway", which always seemed just right to me, though I couldn't put my finger on why. In trying to suss out why I like it, I wrote this poem.

 And it doesn't have to be Mandarin! I also speak French, Spanish, Catalan and bits and pieces of other languages. I find the relationship between the foreign (to me) languages and English, and between each other, can provide the basis for some powerful writing.

 So, how do you get started writing a language poem?


If you speak more than one language

 If you speak more than one language, ask yourself some questions. How do the two languages differ, and how are they the same? Do you speak them in different circumstances (with your friends, with your family, at school) and does that affect your relationship with the languages?

 How does each language feel in your mouth, in your ear, in your heart? How does it look written down? The answers to all of these questions can provide the basis for a poem.

 An exercise you could do if you speak at least three languages is choose an object, state its name in each language you speak, and then discuss what you think about the variation in the names, and what it might tell you about the culture the name comes from.


If you speak one language

 If you speak only one language, you can still write multilingual poetry. Choose a word or phrase and look it up on a reliable dictionary or translator in another language. Focus on that one foreign word and think what is means to you. Read it, listen to it if possible, say it aloud. Then write a poem.

 If you are monolingual and are reading this, statistically the odds are high that your language is English. English is made up of so many other languages: French, Latin, German and more. Why not choose an English word and find out its origins, and write about it?


 I really hope you enjoyed this workshop and found it useful. Why not send your multilingual poems to Miracle? The information can be found on the submissions tab at the top of the page.

 Please bare in mind that poems sent to us must be principally in English, though of course you can include some foreign words, as that is the point of this workshop! However, please make it clear what they mean.

 Thank you, and we look forward to hearing from you!

 Elizabeth Gibson
 Blog Editor and Fiction Editor at Miracle

Meet the team: Elizabeth Gibson

Interview (with myself!)

Could you briefly introduce yourself?

My name is Elizabeth Gibson and I am from Wigan in the north of England. I currently live in Perpignan, France, where I teach English.

What sort of writing do you do?

I write poetry, which I regularly post on my blog and my professional Facebook page. I am working separately on two poetry collections at the moment. One is a "concept collection", so to speak, with a strong theme. The other is simply a collection of my best poems, although there will be loose links between the poems because there are many common themes to my work. Nature, life, death, travel and love all feature heavily.

I finished my first novel in 2013. It is contemporary YA, set largely in France, and is inspired by my love of French culture. It also investigates different forms of love. I hope to have it published some day.

I also write for The Mancunion student newspaper and The Cuckoo Review, and I have blogged for Manchester Literature Festival and Manchester Cornerhouse.

What does writing mean to you?

For me, writing is like magic - it allows you to do all kinds of things you can't in real life. I can transform into another person, or an animal, or anything, in fact; I can travel to places I've never been; I can go back and forward in time. I also find writing therapeutic - it is a great way to relax. I often write at the end of the day as a way of winding down.

How did you get into writing?

I don't remember any particular moment where I began to like writing; it has always been there. From as young as seven or eight I wrote poems and my brother and I would write stories together. As a kid, if anyone asked me what I wanted to be, I would say a writer without hesitation.

Who or what inspires you?

I mentioned some of my inspirations above: nature, travel, etc. Other things include my family and friends, memories, and language - as someone who speaks several languages - English, French and Spanish and some Catalan and Mandarin -, I find them fascinating to write in and about.

What are your current projects?

My two poetry collections, my novel, working on the Miracle Blog as Editor and on the print magazine as Fiction Editor. I have several other novels partly finished, so I hope to complete them.

What are your plans for the future?

Combining writing and teaching to inspire as many people as possible to know that when you can imagine, you have everything.

What advice do you have for writers?

Don't feel the need to conform to current "trends" in writing. I have been alarmed and annoyed at the lazy way in which certain people in the industry write off particular ways of writing as not being "in" at the moment. The whole point of writing is to create something NEW. So be you, and ignore anyone who tells you how to write.

What do you look for in submissions?

Three things: originality, beauty and, most importantly, honesty. You can tell when a piece of writing comes straight from the heart and when it is just the writer stringing fancy words together. I wouldn't dream of publishing the latter.

A selection of my work (click on the images to make them larger)


Silence

Oranges

A girl I know

If I could capture your laugh

Astronomy

Meet the team: Genevieve Rushton-Givens

Genevieve

 Hello, Miracle readers!

 Prepare to meet another member of the Miracle Team: Assistant Editor Genevieve Rushton-Givens.

Interview

Questions by Elizabeth Gibson

EG: Could you introduce yourself?

GR-G: My name is Genny Rushton-Givens. I am from Milton, Ontario, Canada (fastest-growing community in Canada).

Milton, Ontario: Photo from Wikipedia

I grew up in Mississauga, Ontario. I studied music (voice) at Wilfrid Laurier University in Waterloo but after I graduated I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a musician or have a career in music. Right now I am focusing on self-discovery and finding out what I want to do with my life. I currently work as a cashier and as a part time reporter for a local events magazine, the Milton Villager. I also worked for the Ontario Provincial Election and I’ll be working for the town’s Municipal Election in a few months.

EG: What sort of writing do you do?

GR-G: I’ve probably written in just about every genre (except for screenplay, but I really want to hang out at a Starbucks and try that some time). My favourite genre would have to be poetry because it can be interpreted in so many ways and it’s great for expressing complex feelings. Another genre I like is fan fiction because it’s really fun to do and I feel like there’s a lot less pressure to be good at writing; people just want interesting scenarios. All the same, I’ve seen a lot of creativity in that genre and surprisingly good writing.

EG: What does writing mean to you?

GR-G: It’s communication... and fantasy. It’s so many things. An essential skill, an escape, a way to explain things, a method of communication far less scary than talking for introverts like me... And it’s timeless; writing will stay around long after the writer is dead. I guess writing to me is mostly hope and play; hope (that I can use it in a career) and play because it’s enjoyable and relaxing.

EG: How did you get into writing?

GR-G: I got into writing when I was a child. I loved playing with Barbies and playing make-believe with the neighbourhood kids so that was probably when I started using the skills you need for writing, namely imagination. I also liked writing diaries, especially on family cross-Canada trips. 

I did a lot of creative writing in school and it was one of the few tasks that didn’t feel like homework. I remember writing a bunch of Dungeons and Dragons short stories for fun; those were probably the first long pieces of writing I created outside of school. I also took a creative writing course in high school and that made me enjoy writing even more. Now it’s one of my favourite hobbies.

EG: Who or what inspires you?

GR-G: My biggest inspiration would probably be music. I play it almost constantly, especially when I’m writing. I love to listen to songs and fantasize about scenarios or stories that make sense with the music and the lyrics. Some of my writing is actually based on songs. 

A person that inspires me is my little brother Nick who aspires to be a professional musician. He doesn’t always receive positive feedback on his music (I admit I don’t always like the songs he makes) but is always playing an instrument or writing a song and never leaves the house without his laptop or an instrument. He can receive the most brutal criticism and be unmoved, simply not caring about what the person thinks. 

My favourite musicians and bands also inspire me: Imogen Heap, The Tragically Hip, Little Miss Higgins, Owen Pallett, Owl City, Billy Talent and many others. The Sound of Rum (Kate Tempest) is another inspiring artist for me as she is not only one of the few successful female rappers, but her music and poetry are utterly amazing. One more thing that inspires me are endlessly interesting cities, like Toronto, London and Amsterdam.

EG: What are your current projects?

GR-G: I’m working off-and-on in occasional bursts on a fan fiction novella that I’ve been working on for a long time based on Atlantis: The Lost Empire. I’m always coming up with interesting ideas for stories but I often procrastinate in actually turning them into writing. I’m also working on a few poems on various topics. I’m often working on local interest stories for the Milton Villager as well.

EG: What are your plans for the future?

GR-G: First and foremost, to be independent and financially stable. And secondly, to find a career that I love, maybe in writing, maybe in music, maybe in something else, but definitely something I enjoy doing. I don’t know what my future will be exactly, but I’m excited to find out.

EG: What advice do you have for writers?

GR-G: Whether you think it will be a career or not, write anyway. If you aren’t doing it because you enjoy it, why are you writing? Also, never be too discouraged by criticism (something I need to work on myself). One person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Another thing is to focus on is writing clearly so that you get your message across.

EG: What do you look for in submissions?

GR-G: I always look for writing that has relatively good spelling and grammar and writing that is clear and coherent. I can’t stress learning good spelling and grammar enough. However, what is most important is writing that is unique and gripping. What really impresses me is a story that constantly makes me ask “and then what happened?”  

I like writing that is out there, different or that has never been done before but I can also appreciate stories that tackle familiar subject matter in a really skillful way. I especially like writing that truly transports its audience to a different world.

A sample of Genny's work

Wallflower

Little wallflower at the back of the room Sitting pretty, waiting to bloom Watching the others in their gaiety Dreaming of tiny steps to spontaneity

If you have something to say, say it But even when you do, you delay it Sitting in the back all alone Where have you hidden your backbone?

You wait it out until that perfect silence The challenge, the defiance Of delivering the right answer When everyone else just stands there

But it seems it will never come You’d rather they think you were dumb Instead of watching the heads turn And feeling your throat burn

And it has to be something meaningful Something wise, beneficial Because this is the leaf upturned This is the incense finally burned

You must be wise and reveal a profound truth Or the silent one will be seen as the dumb mute But not too weird and different either Or you might as well be having a seizure

As you speak there is such an unjust silence And as you finish an applause and laughter like raw violence For despite your careful wording They will never pay attention to anything but asserting

Asserting, asserting is gold Asserting yourself and being bold Being confident, being nude Being exposed, being rude

Even if you proved the professor wrong Even if in three seconds you wrote a song Even if you recited a hundred digits of Pi All they care about is that you are speaking and that you were once shy

And that my friends is a spectacle

Beer

Cat call in the distance at three am Someone far away is hot And someone far away is horny Decisions made with beer goggles As you half-sleep in a bubbly, pleasant haze There’s more evidence for evolution Than skeletons and theories I think as I hear a college girl Shriek just like a chimpanzee Below on Spruce Street Far away noises sound so close They are inside my tiny flat Invading

How frightening it would be to venture outside so late On a saturday night And soak up the stupidity Violence at the slightest provocation Passive-aggressive friendliness Walk past a bar Would I make it home alive?

The city lights cast a morning glow on the trees and the now-grey sky It looks as if the sun is rising

But, no, I’m still here in my warm, fluffy bed Half-asleep, half-awake like most nights When will I escape this vampire’s schedule? I long for the early mornings of my youth Seven am, the darkness lingering Birds chirping, parents yelling, Reading on the school bus Innocence, naïveté, thinking life was so difficult then But it wasn’t That was just the beginning

The jock population skyrockets after two am Because nothing good happens then Birds, maybe robins, singing at four am Everything is backwards at this hour And so much more frightening Terrified of even leaving my room Down the dark, empty hallway

Maybe I’m just jealous I wish I had some friends to be stupid and drunk with Some men and boys too Even just some alcohol A cold glass of beer To help me sleep To taste So bubbly and bittersweet Pop with a punch I must imagine my glass of water as a mug of beer And hope...

Green and White Snake:

Words were never spoken or exchanged. "The GO Train is here." The only five words anyone there ever thought they needed to hear besides they weren't words they were mentality the briefcases purses newspapers click-a-clacks of heels rustling of zippers and keys scrapings of sandals rollings of bags sharp noses blank eyes all pointed at their exact target click clack click clack a steady stream of everyone and anyone men with full black business suits girls in Gouci and jeans ladies in Reitmans men in checkered shirts and khaki shorts like ants they piled into the green and white snake dreading the fatal announcement "last call! Last call!" they accelerated full grown men and women whipping and thudding and click-a-clacking the wind pushed them back to their cars the ground screamed "Stop!" but they didn't listen a woman all in blue who could raise the dead with her clacking daintily ran as fast as she could "DOORS SHUT!" the conductor's voice was muffled and he followed through in a spurt of perseverance soundlessly the doors closed At least the adults knew one thing no amount of noise could open them so they didn't try the blue-clad woman slowed to a stop the GO train had gone she slumped in the middle of the station the wind urged her but suddenly the train came again always there always gone CLICK CLACK the heels revived click clack click clack clack

Victoria’s London

Take me back to when top hats were like business suits When the white moths had become black with filth When the Thames was brown like the rotted teeth of beggars And not just because of the mud When the Irish and the Slavic were exotic When London was Birmingham When Birmingham was Liverpool When Liverpool was a country village When there were millions And yet they were still so innocently oblivious Take me to the city clothed in black For there was always a funeral somewhere London The noisy factories And crowded slums The fear that the cold brings The pain that disease brings The real London The honest London The dark, deadly London of my nightmares Every narrow, dimly-lit alleyway dripping with piss and blood Full of criminals and drunks Ominous dark brown bricks The suffocating stink that follows you wherever you go

Cursing, begging Lifting, cuffing, gaffing, looting, nicking, pinching, swiping, thieving, pilfering, pillaging Hundreds of words for stealing

Where the poor are painfully poor Where every woman that smiles at you is a prostitute Corpses lying in the streets Next to gas lamps The only beacons of light People packed into bedrooms like chickens Sleeping on the string

Highly disturbing But it’s best not to interfere For someone else will deal with it Industry and decency will save us all

There is no trace of that now Except the noble stone buildings Commissioned by the corrupt

This is my fear and obsession

Meet the team: Kieran Rundle

 

 Hello, Miracle readers!

 Welcome to the second of our Miracle Team features. Today we will be meeting Poetry Editor Kieran Rundle.

Interview
Questions by Elizabeth Gibson

EG: Could you briefly introduce yourself?
KR: Hi! I’m Kieran Rundle and I’m a high school student from Virginia. 

I work on our high school’s Literary Art Magazine’s staff and also have begun to run my own magazine, Sincerely Magazine.

EG: What sort of writing do you do?
KR: I mainly write dark poetry and short fiction stories.

EG: What does writing mean to you?
KR: Writing means everything to me, it is how I breathe and I think. It is the connection between my thoughts and my reality and everything in between. Writing has become a second nature in my every day life and process. It has such power to sway readers into emotions, thoughts, ideas, and produce even more.

EG: How did you get into writing?
KR: I’ve been writing since before I could hold a pencil. It’s just always been a part of who I am.

EG: Who or what inspires you?
KR: Everything around me inspires me, the people, settings, conversations, the world is full of inspiration if we only know how to look for it.

EG: What are your current projects?
KR: I’m currently working on a one-act script for a new play competition in October with the Virginia Theater Association.

EG: What are your plans for the future?
KR: I plan on continuing my magazine work through high school and college, studying either writing or science.

EG: What advice do you have for writers?
KR: Keep writing and editing, the more you work and practice both of those skills the better your writing and editing skills will become. Don’t skip through the editing process either, that’s the biggest part of writing.

EG: What do you look for in submissions?

KR: As a poetry editor I usually look for a unique central theme or idea that is carried through the entire poem, along with nice rhythm or flow that is consistent with the word usage.

A sample of Kieran's work

The Girl on the Rock The sun slunk back across the bleeding sky. It cast a rusty shine over rocks piled high. The formation was suspended above the trees in the wood. The girl sat on the tippy top as high up as she could. Her happy laughter sang across the cinnamon light as she watched the autumn day turn into a chilly blue night. Back in the fading forest she heard her family call, but she turned up her cheeks and embraced the bright fall. Out over the tall rocks the woods rustled, untamed. Crimson, sunburst, pomegranate the colors grew like flames. They spread out of the greens with starbursts of hues. The girl breathed it all in and then out she blew. Then with a final look she turned to go back, to climb down the rock to where her family sat. She heard them call out again and made to reply but the only noise she made was a delicate sigh. She had a little more to go before reaching the land. Her hand held rock but her foot slipped on sand. Her scream shrilled out shattering hope’s light. Her foot dangled uselessly and her hand held her from plight. The girl screeched again as her fingers began to slip. She tried to scrabble upward but could not get a grip. In what seemed an infinity her palm began to slide. It could no longer hold the rock, the moon released the tide. She wafted down backwards, her eyes wide on the sky. The clouds seemed to stare and whisper goodbye. The girl heard her family running to the rock. But she could not speak, nor could she stop. The forest, like a vulture, closed in around her head. She fell to earth like a moonbeam, but hit the ground, dead.

Meet the team: Steven Fortune

 Hello, Miracle readers!

 Welcome is the first on a series of features showcasing the wonderful Miracle team. Today we will be getting to know Steven Fortune, one of our Poetry Editors.

Interview
Questions by Elizabeth Gibson

EG: Could you briefly introduce yourself? SF: My name is Steven Fortune and I hail from Nova Scotia, Canada.

I live in a town called Glace Bay and have experimented with city life, but was ultimately drawn back to my home province, or chased back, depending on my mood as I reflect on those days. I have a degree in English Literature and History.

EG: What sort of writing do you do? SF: I write poetry, mostly free verse but I dabble in fixed forms to keep the pencil sharp. As a proud holder of no musical talent whatsoever, I'm a Bernie Taupin hoping to cross paths with an Elton John one of these days. That would be my dream job.

EG: What does writing mean to you? SF: Discovery. Discovery of self, of new worlds within worlds, of the latest universe in the infinity of the imagination.

EG: How did you get into writing? SF: Like many writers, I got into writing through reading and music. My parents were music lovers, and their record collection was my first muse.

EG: Who or what inspires you? SF: My late Dad. It was not until he passed away that I began to find myself in magazines after countless failed attempts at being found in them. My Mom also remains an inspiration and a source of unconditional support, along with a small group of friends who make up an informal literary circle. I also find inspiration in my living room window; the scenery has not changed as long as I've lived here, yet most of my ideas come to me while looking out.

EG: What are your current projects? SF: I recently signed a deal for my first book, which I'm slated to begin working on in the Fall. The Summer will be spent working on the manuscript, which will be in flux as I rediscover old pieces and concieve new ones. This whole writing gig started as a hobby and will finish as one when I do, but never would I have imagined it evolving to this stage.

EG: What are your plans for the future? SF: To wake up tomorrow; if I do that, hopefully I'll write. If I can't write, hopefully I'll read. If I can't read, I'll look out the window.

EG: What advice do you have for writers? SF: Don't be afraid to be yourself. Don't be afraid to be someone else. Don't be afraid to be yourself pretending to be someone else. And look out any window you may come across; every one is a story waiting to be told.

EG: What do you look for in submissions? SF: As a poetry editor, I look for subtlety in poetic devices: rhyme schemes that are hardly noticeable in their seamlessness, inverted rhymes in free verse, big words that become small within a rhythm and flow..."endearment" instead of "love," "existence" instead of "life," "darling" instead of "baby."

A selection of Steven's work

A YES-MAN'S MOMENT OF CLARITY The grains with which I accept all insistences are disassembled assemblages of the sweetest salt Nothing like an oxymoron to consign a benign blackball to the trifle of silence deemed to be awkward by the insisters And by benign I mean merciful In my circumstantial mercy they'll find an ante-inflating irony hungry for the hand of the oxymorons I am capable of spawning The ruins of the bed in which I made nullified love to my precious Psyche are what they should be studying If they aspire to prolong their insistent rhetoric in my verbal vicinity I will poison them with the sweet salt left behind by my beloved Psyche when the flower of her being was inhaled with a failed vacuum of vengeance Satisfaction and timidity I thought I could comingle to seduce I won't make that mistake again



CANDLE LOGIC Let's apply oblation to our hardships Obliterate the temptation to trip on languid lower lips imprisoning our stiffer upper lips Let's apply oblation to our grief Freeze the imitation waterfalls of hot wax sliding through the slippery stalagmites scaling the perimeters of our duet of melting candles Let us groom the fire for oblation like the old Greeks did and take a flyer on the possibility of comfort Let us take a lesson from the pond of hot wax destined to rebel and drown the wick before it brands lethargy on the local phoenix



INTROVERT A painless day An extreme haircut A graphic pierce Immaculate sunblock greasing up the impact of night's thud from the morning freefall Stares of admiration open-ended for the lack of notice or acknowledgement but a painless day of numbed moods and nil to lose in loss of mind 06 25 02

Creative workshop: Combining poem and image by Elizabeth Gibson

 Hello, Miracle readers!

 My name is Elizabeth and I am Blog Editor and also Fiction Editor at Miracle Magazine. I also create what I call "poem-photos", a combination of a poem and an image, which I post on my own blog and on my Facebook page.

 I really enjoy pairing poems with photographs and vice-versa. Mainly the photographs are taken by me, though recently I have been collaborating with a friend; he has sent me some photos and I have set poems to them. (I use the word setting deliberately, because for me there are definite parallels between setting a poem to a photo and setting words to music.)

 To me, the pairing of poem and image makes perfect sense. Both photos and poems are ways of capturing one moment as well as possible, so that people who weren't there can know what it was like. If a poem and a photograph were written about the same moment, the image is even stronger. 

 However, I find it more interesting to match a poem with a photo that does not represent the same moment, but a different one. This challenges the viewer to find their own links between the poem and the image, and you can make connections you never imagined you could.

 Here is a photo-poem of mine where the poem was written about the photo. I looked at this ladybird on his leaf, fresh from his cocoon, and just wrote.

 Here is an example of the other type of poem-photo I do: one where the photo and poem were created separately and then combined: 

 The photograph was taken in Manchester one evening when the sky was really beautiful. The poem had been written in Wales several months previously. But when the time came to find a photo for the poem, this one called out to me. Why? The why is the beauty of it. I can't tell you exactly. But my subconscious immediately connected the two. 

 I prefer to feel connections rather than explicitly state them, but for the sake of explanation here are some I found: the poem has an "end of the world" kind of feel, as does the photo. Both feature birds. I wrote the poem at dusk, and the image clearly depicts the sunset. For me both poem and photo have a feeling of calm and reflection.

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 So, I have hopefully shown why I love this particular art form. I am now going to give a brief masterclass in setting poems to photos and vice versa.

 Firstly, don't worry if you do not see yourself as a photographer or as a poet. Either you could work in collaboration, or you could give it a go yourself - and I am sure you will succeed. I believe anyone can be a photographer, and anyone can be a poet. It doesn't matter if you don't have a good camera; it is the feeling behind the image that matters here, not the quality.

*

Taking an image of a poem

 If you are matching an image to a poem, try to do it on as deep a level as you can. If the poem is about the sea, for example, don't just take a picture of the sea. Take a picture of the sky, perhaps, or a smaller body of water. This will allow both you and your viewers to make new connections.

 If you are taking the image first and then matching a poem to it, take photos of either some thing that is important to you, or, if you are struggling, something generic like the sky, flowers or trees. These shouldn't be too hard to find words for. When you are more used to combining photos and poetry, you can be more adventurous with your photos.

Writing a poem about an image

 I love writing poems about pictures; I find it a really creative and enjoyable way of writing. My way is simply to look at the image and write whatever comes into my head in a long flow of thoughts, and then edit it until I end up with something I like. 

 If you like to write in a more structured way, I recommend making a list or a mind map of words you associate with the image and then work them into poem. Think about the moment you took the photograph; what happened before and after, how you felt, what you were thinking. Alternatively, you could match it to another moment; a picture of flowers could remind you of someone you love; an image of the sky or water could remind you of a time you travelled. Here is a poem about a friend that I was easily able to match to a flower photo I had taken:

Putting the two together

 How you combine poem and image is up to you. I layer the writing over the poem but you could also display them side by side or you could perform the poem with the image behind you. It's a matter of what suits your style as a creative and as a person.

*

 I hope you enjoyed this workshop and I wish you every success with the unique art form of the poem-photo. Here are a few of mine to finish. Thanks for reading,

 Elizabeth Gibson

 Blog Editor and Fiction Editor at Miracle Magazine

If you would like to see more of my work or contact me, check out my blog and Facebook page:

http://elizabethgibsonwriter.blogspot.co.uk

https://www.facebook.com/ElizabethGibsonWriterPoet

Interview with Lydia Popowich

Hello, Miracle readers, and welcome to our second blog interview. Here, Blog Editor Elizabeth Gibson speaks to writer and artist Lydia Popowich about her life and work.

EG: Hello, Lydia! How did you first get into writing, and which writers have inspired you?

LP: Writing was in my blood from the start due to the influence of my Ukrainian grandfather, Vsevolod Nahyrni, a writer and political activist in the former Soviet Union.  Every birthday and Christmas I would receive a card from him with a poem specially written for me.  


I began writing my own stories and poems at an early age.  As a child I was encouraged to read serious Russian authors, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Solzhenitsyn.  I read War and Peace at the age of twelve!  As an adult I’ve been inspired by a wide range of authors including Kerouac, D.H. Lawrence, Julia Darling, W.B. Yeats, Sharon Olds, Elizabeth Bishop, Iris Murdoch, Leonard Cohen… and even Stephen King! 

EG: What does writing mean to you?

LP: I’ve always associated writing with the desire to make the world a better place. It's a way of getting inside someone else’s head and seeing life from another point of view. Writing has a therapeutic value but it’s much more than that…it leads to greater understanding and tolerance between people. It is a tool for personal and social change.

EG: You are an artist as well as a poet; how do the two creative forms overlap for you?

LP: Visual arts and writing are two sides of the same coin for me. I often incorporate text in my artwork through collage and photography. I enjoy unexpected juxtapositions. I tend to use abstract and surreal imagery and a lot of colour in both poetry and art.  They are just different ways of communicating my experience of the world as a woman and as a disabled person. In recent years I’ve concentrated increasingly on poetry as it feels purer and more precise. It satisfies my obsessive compulsive streak!

EG: Your work often focuses on disability, health and body issues. How pressing do you feel these issues are in today's society? Which do you think are the best ways to approach them?

LP: Disability is the last great taboo which feeds on society’s fear of death, illness and impairment. Disabled people are not sad, sick people waiting for a cure they are just made differently. There is institutionalised discrimination against disabled people in the work place and in relationships. We are automatically seen as weak and inferior because we are judged physically or mentally ‘imperfect’. We are not allowed to fully participate in the world because of needless barriers and because of people’s ignorance. This is an issue which affects everyone, disabled and non-disabled, because we all age, sooner or later our bodies start to let us down and no-one is ever perfect. We live in a society obsessed with superficial appearances, it’s a kind of body fascism and it creates a lot of misery.  

I don’t know what the answer is…cultural change is slow in coming. It happens in tiny steps with the gradual breaking down of barriers between people.  Racial discrimination and homophobia are now considered unacceptable but people had to struggle to be heard for a long, long time. 

EG: You have lived in Newcastle and the Far North of Scotland; do you feel these places have influenced your writing and art?

LP: I’ve lived in the Far North for eight years but it’s too soon to tell how much my work has been influenced.  I am preoccupied with some of the same themes as in Newcastle, for example, alienation and body image but I feel more focussed on my writing without the distractions of city life. The Caithness landscape with its changing light and extreme weather conditions create great mystery and drama.  There is a unique sense of place I’ve never experienced anywhere else.  

I feel more grounded here and even though there are fewer people than sheep we are more closely involved with each other.  I’ve met many fascinating people and heard amazing personal stories which will inevitably influence my writing.

EG: What are your current and future projects?

LP: I’m working on a play based on my hospital themed poems and a novel called The Bog Country which is composed of interconnecting short stories.  I’m aiming to produce my first pamphlet of poetry next year.  Long term, I would like to produce a series of illustrated poems in the manner of Blake.

EG: Do you have any advice for young and/or new writers?

LP: It might be a cliché but writing every day, even if it’s just for half an hour is the best practice.  My other advice is not to be afraid to take risks or expose your vulnerabilities.  And not to be too precious about your writing, some things work, others less so…At the end of the day it’s just a selection of words on paper and not the cure for cancer.

EG: What do you believe is the future of poetry? How will it change; how will it stay the same?

LP: I feel that poetry is in the ascendant.  It’s becoming more fashionable and less middle class.  The internet has changed the way we communicate so it’s easier and cheaper to reach an audience.  It’s exciting how technology and popular culture have influenced our language, eg Twitter, texting, Facebook, rap music and this is all reflected in poetry.  Performance poetry will become the new rock and roll! 

EG: Could you show us an example of your writing?

LP: Here is a poem I wrote about a year ago:

ARTERIO VENOUS

Her country was besieged.
The Great Saphenous Vein, 
a lonesome road to nowhere,
a waste-land, booby-trapped with incendiaries.
Scarpa’s Triangle sailed a quiet sea
and Hunter’s Canal lay stagnant. 

Beyond a cotton screen of chrysanthemums
her body bore a map no longer secret, 
sketched out in clumsy biro, red for arteries, blue for veins.
Red and blue make purple, she’d learned at school.
Legs splayed a landscape across the table,
roads and rivers marked 
soft, pale flesh, inert on padded leather.
Like seagulls scavenging an empty shore
the white coats gathered in freezing stares
while she traced the tangle of petals,
leaves and stems interwoven beyond.

Pointless, she listened to foreign tales,
remembered a white horse
galloping circles in the wind, 
her purple coat flapping open 
as she ran down the road

Lydia Popowich

EG: Many thanks for speaking with me; I wish you all the best with your writing and art in the future.