I begin to write this blog in the late night of Friday, the first scheduled day of the festival.
My heart has fluttered a few times today. And it has been a delight.
I was not sure what to expect when I left the house and made my way to the Ulumbarra theatre. Walking up the hill to the old Bendigo goal I was told to look out for the high brick wall. When I orientated myself to the front of the former goal I saw it for what it was, a beautiful historic building, yet entering the main entrance I was caught by the history within. Iron railing and platforms above are the remains of passageways walked by prison guards and the unknown interned.
I had just come to Bendigo, a day before. And it was evident that much history is within the walls of these grand buildings
It seemed an initially odd place to hold a theater, but upon entering this former goal and walking the light filled corridor I began to hear the faint sounds of multiple voices. Walking further, the sound grew stronger, until I could hear a cacophony of young students’ voices. So, perhaps, despite the uncomfortable original purpose of the building it is now entering it's next phase.
I actually don't know how to put it all into words, yet I want to capture this;
these moments
and acknowledge its sweetness.
Listening and writing into my notebook quotes and advice from the presenting authors has been inspiring. However for much of the day the gems were in the moments between these sittings.
In the thoughts, the exchanges on the steps, the sharing of food, heart and laughter that weaved itself between the scheduled exchanges. But how do I savor them?
Inspired by Sue Gillet’s project of a similar kind, I will, each day of the festival, attempt to write a poem in response to the the day just had. Here goes my first one.
Sketching thoughts 7th August 2015
We sketched
Our conversation onto the table. Words, thoughts, themes etched into the cream face of the butcher’s paper.
We didn’t think that we would be siting here.
Me with lemon and lime and you both with beer and wine. These words, recollections
trace our histories.
To this present
Moment.
You called it serendipitous; that we happened here
Maybe.
See computers can get in the way, but this talking, seeing, feeling is magic
through the word, finding our way
Orienteering
Each buoys in an ocean of uncertainty and imagination
See, I have just returned. I came ‘back’. But not backwards you remind me
You said life was like mountains. We can remind ourselves of the peaks and of the troughs
and then
we can each
plot our way onwards.
My heart has fluttered a few times today. And it has been a delight.
I was not sure what to expect when I left the house and made my way to the Ulumbarra theatre. Walking up the hill to the old Bendigo goal I was told to look out for the high brick wall. When I orientated myself to the front of the former goal I saw it for what it was, a beautiful historic building, yet entering the main entrance I was caught by the history within. Iron railing and platforms above are the remains of passageways walked by prison guards and the unknown interned.
I had just come to Bendigo, a day before. And it was evident that much history is within the walls of these grand buildings
It seemed an initially odd place to hold a theater, but upon entering this former goal and walking the light filled corridor I began to hear the faint sounds of multiple voices. Walking further, the sound grew stronger, until I could hear a cacophony of young students’ voices. So, perhaps, despite the uncomfortable original purpose of the building it is now entering it's next phase.
I actually don't know how to put it all into words, yet I want to capture this;
these moments
and acknowledge its sweetness.
Listening and writing into my notebook quotes and advice from the presenting authors has been inspiring. However for much of the day the gems were in the moments between these sittings.
In the thoughts, the exchanges on the steps, the sharing of food, heart and laughter that weaved itself between the scheduled exchanges. But how do I savor them?
Inspired by Sue Gillet’s project of a similar kind, I will, each day of the festival, attempt to write a poem in response to the the day just had. Here goes my first one.
Sketching thoughts 7th August 2015
We sketched
Our conversation onto the table. Words, thoughts, themes etched into the cream face of the butcher’s paper.
We didn’t think that we would be siting here.
Me with lemon and lime and you both with beer and wine. These words, recollections
trace our histories.
To this present
Moment.
You called it serendipitous; that we happened here
Maybe.
See computers can get in the way, but this talking, seeing, feeling is magic
through the word, finding our way
Orienteering
Each buoys in an ocean of uncertainty and imagination
See, I have just returned. I came ‘back’. But not backwards you remind me
You said life was like mountains. We can remind ourselves of the peaks and of the troughs
and then
we can each
plot our way onwards.
You have such a talent for evoking the atmosphere and even the visual presence of your experiences. Wonderful.
ReplyDeleteI love this! This festival for me has given me the beginnings of appreciating (or getting back in touch with) poetry, so it is fitting that I opened your blog tonight. Thank you :)
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