The Successful Launch of My New Poetry Collection

Hi Everyone

Last Sunday (9 Dec 2018), the wonderful poet and mentor of Melbourne poets, Alex Skovron, launched my second poetry collection, Libation. Elly Varrenti, friend and colleague from my teaching time at Box Hill Institute, kept things on schedule for the almost 70 people gathered for the celebration.

Elly Varrenti welcoming everyone

Alex Skovron launching the book

My Thank You speech/Reading my poems (photo by Pheroza Rustomjee)

The order of events included a Welcome to Country, a welcome to all those gathered in the room, Alex’s speech, my Thank You speech, and my reading of poems from the collection. Below are some comments from messages sent to me after the launch:

•  ‘a lovely festive atmosphere…’
• ‘all your friends and supporters seemed to enjoy the afternoon immensely…’
•  ‘so much goodwill in the room…’
• ‘Everything just went absolutely perfectly. It was flawless…’

And here are more photos from the launch (in no particular order):

People listening to the speeches

A tercet of Melbourne poets: Susan Fealy, Alex Skovron, Tony Page (left to right)

The nibbles

A triplanetary of Spec Fic writers: Sean McMullen, Joel Martin, Luke Manly (left to right)

Jan Dumbrell and Belinda Wells at the sales table (L to R)

Celebrating with my oldest friend, Michael (from primary school, 1961)

Chatting with fellow poet/writer Kevin Bonnett, with KEEN member Nadine in the background

There are a number of people I want to thank again for their help in the preparation and publication of Libation and for organising and running the event:

• Elly for her excellent MC work
• Alex for his insightful, humorous and comprehensive launch speech
• Catherine Bateson and John Jenkins for their back cover blurbs and also their feedback during the preparation of the manuscript, along with Nick Engelmann, Ray Liversidge, Robin Rowland, and the late Max Richards
• Veronica Calarco (introduced to me by my ex-student and fellow Welsh practitioner Elizabeth Corbett) and her artist residency at Stiwdio Maelor in Wales, a quiet and inspirational place for working on my various writing projects
• Stephen Matthews of Ginninderra Press for publishing the book
• City of Boroondara Libraries for allowing me to use the community room at Balwyn Library
• Joel Martin for acting as the usher
• Phil Maas for being the official photographer (unless stated, all photos in this post are by him)
• Belinda Wells and Jan Dumbrell for running the sales table
• Astrid, Bill and Jason Bahr, Joe Roberts, the Diegmanns, the Farrars and many others for setting up, running the drinks table, and cleaning up afterwards
• Anne’s Pantry and Nina Farrar for supplying the delicious and bountiful food
• All my friends, colleagues, ex-students, members of my various writing groups (especially KEEN: Catherine, Elly, and Nadine Cresswell-Myatt), and family members for helping make the book the best it can be and the launch a great success
• And my wife, Jo, for her unstinting support, encouragement, and love.

And still more photos:

Ray Liversidge, fellow poet and friend, and I debating something or other (photo by Terri Redpath)

Philip Oakes and Bill Bahr (my brothers-in-law) ready to serve drinks (L to R)

The queue for getting copies signed 

The festivities in full swing

Jo and me (photo by Terri Redpath)

People enjoying themselves after the speeches

For those who were unable to come to the launch and wish to buy a copy of Libation, various procedures are set out below:

• For a printed copy from the publisher, see here.
• For those who prefer their books in digital form, a Kindle version is available from Amazon (Australia) here.
• For international buyers, the Kindle edition is available here.
• For those who would like a signed copy, contact me at elivings@optusnet.com.au and I’ll send it to you. The price is $20, with postage around $3 for Australian addresses. 

Photo by Elizabeth Corbett

My thanks also to all of you who have been sharing my creative journey in various guises.

Cofion Cynnes (Warm Wishes)

Earl

Gwaith 20: Leaving Stiwdio Maelor

Last week I finished my third residency at Stiwdio Maelor. My first was eight weeks in 2015 and my second was the five weeks I spent there in September and October last year before I went travelling for five weeks. The third residency was for 11 weeks, broken only by the six days spent in Germany catching up with Jo. So, I’ve spent almost 24 weeks at Stiwdio Maelor, to the point that, as a friend said at the Corris Institute café one Tuesday morning, Corris is my second home.

Clouds over Corris

I do feel I have set down some roots, however small, in the village and I was saddened to pack my bags, say goodbye to all the friends I made, many of whom came to The Slaters the night before for farewell drinks, and jump in a car to be taken to Machynlleth Station for my train to Birmingham International and the start of my trip home.

Now that I staying in the USA with one of my sons for two weeks, visiting another son, and enjoying the snow, which hasn’t fallen so heavily hereabouts for several years, I want to check my achievements during my residencies against the targets I set myself before I left.

Writing

The main target, naturally enough, related to my novel. I had hoped to complete the third draft before I left. This wasn’t the case. I only completed around 75% of the draft, around 150k words. However, as can be seen from below, I wasn’t exactly relaxing. I managed to write a number of other things.

New scene cards for the novel

 Novel:                      75% (150k)—approximately 7k words/wk, 18 hrs/wk

                                  (counting my five weeks of travelling)

Interdraft Work:        39,771 words

Short Story:               One (unexpected)

Poem drafts:              11

Haiku drafts:             36

Blogs:                       18

I also ran a poetry workshop at Canterbury Christ Church University, gave a reading at Stiwdio Maelor during the Christmas Open Day in November, and gave a talk to creative-practise PhD students at Aberystwyth University. Even though I didn’t reach my target, I’m happy with what I achieved.

Night photo of Aberystwyth, taken from Veronica's PhD studio at Aberystwyth University

Language Immersion

I have been learning Welsh on and off for a number of years on a Tuesday night at The Celtic Club in Melbourne. My level of skill wasn’t too great when I left for Wales, mainly because teaching and writing commitments had meant I hadn’t spent as much time as I would have liked on Welsh practice. During my first residency, I attended some classes and groups and I intended to do the same this time around. I knew I didn’t have a hope of achieving fluency, as I knew others had done by virtually devoting all their time when in Wales to finding opportunities to practice their Welsh, but I did hope to improve in some small way.

Mist and snow at Llyn Tegid (Lake Bala), during my two-day Welsh course nearby

Every Monday I attended a class in Dolgellau and every Tuesday morning I joined in Welsh discussion at the Corris Institute café. I also attended several one- and two-day courses, as well as three Noson Siarads, dinners where only Welsh was supposed to be spoken. Although I can’t claim fluency yet, I did find myself holding conversations longer than one or two exchanges and at times felt myself responding automatically in Welsh. I also was complimented on both my accent and my vocab, so I must be doing something right.

Sky and a dash of sun-stain on the trees

Landscape Immersion

As with my hope that learning the language will somehow help me with the writing of the book (and connect me with my ancestral roots), I also hoped that experiencing the landscape of Britain would help me create authentic settings for the novel. I visited a number of sites I am using, both in Wales and Scotland, and was in the country long enough to experience late autumn and winter. While in Corris itself, I went for numerous walks and right up to the last week I was discovering new tracks, one of which took me on a three and a half hour ramble. I have learnt about trees, seen red deer, red squirrels and badgers, seen and heard red kites and numerous other birds, climbed mountains, sat next to rivers, walked through snow, wandered around megalithic circles and sat in tombs. I have probably absorbed more than I realise and can only hope the experiences came out in my words at some point.

Mist over the war memorial of Corris, from the sun melting snow 

Photo of Llyn Mwngll or Llyn Myngul, more commonly known as Tal-y-llyn

Finally, there are the people I have met, from the people in the village of Corris to the residents at Maelor I have spent time with. I want to thank them all for being welcoming, friendly, inspirational, supportive, and encouraging. My thanks to the previous manager at The Slaters, Brian, and the current manager, Mike. To Andy and Adam at their café for the great food and coffee and their wifi. To Eleanor, Chris and the other volunteers at the Corris Institute café. To Jan at the post office for her help with my packages to be sent home. To Ellie, Diane, Inge, Beryl and others in the Welsh conversation group. To Bethan Gwanas, my Welsh teacher in the class at Dolgellau, and Mike H, Mike K, Dee, Sue, Laura, David and other fellow students. To Martin for discussions about Cadair Idris legends and Welsh language and poetry. To Hickey, Jane and Kevin, and the other regulars at The Slaters. To Eileen and Arthur, for their lifts into Aberystwyth and conversations about poetry and geology. To Simon and Andrew for conversations about landscape writing. To Lez, for his blacksmith course and his help with my many questions about the craft. To all those residents I met during my residencies—including Freya, Yuki, Chloe, Linda, Beth, Bronwen, Christina, Gwen and Chris, John, and Brett—for the discussions, the pints at the pub, the shared meals, the trips to various sites, and the inspiration and encouragement.

One night at The Slaters, with Gwen, Chris, Yuki and Bronwen

Most of all I want to thank Veronica Calarco, the founder and coordinator of Stiwdio Maelor, for her vision, her persistence (even in trying situations), and her hard work, in creating such a wonderful place for artists and writers to take time out from their normal lives and explore their ‘craft or sullen art’, as Dylan Thomas put it. Most of all, I want to thank her and her partner Mary for their friendship.

In my last days in Corris, many people asked if I’d be back, then said before I could answer, ‘I’m sure you will’. True. I will be back, for I have made many friendships and I find the village and the landscape around it inspirational. I also want Jo to meet everyone and see the sights I love.

Thanks again, Stiwdio Maelor and Corris.

Corris from near the summit of Mynydd Fron Felen (Mountain of the brown/yellow hillside)

I hope you enjoyed this post. As always, I welcome your comments.

Flying over the pole to Seattle

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

Gwaith 19: Arrival in Scotland (Monday, 1 Oct 2016)

Whenever I drive to Scotland, my first stop in the country is Clochmabenstane, a megalith standing in a field of Old Graitney farm, near Gretna. Along with a smaller stone set into a nearby hedge, Clochmabenstane is all that is left of a stone circle dated back to around 3000 BC.

The main stone, which is also called the Lochmaben Stone, is weathered granite, weighs about ten tons and is seven feet high and about 18 feet around. As for the etymology of Clochmabenstane, 'cloch' seems to suggest the modern Gaelic 'clach', meaning stone; 'maben' is related to Mabon (also known as Maponus), the Celtic God Mabon map Modron, Son of the Mother ; and 'stane' is a Scottish word for 'stone'. One suggested meaning for the name is the 'stone or burial place of Mabon'.

I first found out about the stone in Nikolai Tolstoy's The Quest for Merlin, where he suggests that the stone was the site of ceremonies for the cult of Maponus/Mabon and that Merlin may have been the chief druid in charge of them. I have used some elements of his suggestion in my novel, which is why I like to visit the megalith and get a sense of the stone itself and the surrounding area.

The Clochmabenstane is reached from a carpark near the farm, on the Solway Firth, with a walk across the boggy shoreline of the estuary, a climb over a wire fence, and a stroll up the mild slope alongside a hawthorn hedge. As I walked along the shore, with bramble bushes next to the property line, a rabbit popped out of one gorse bush, looped down the path and dashed into the hollow at the bottom of another bush. When I got nearer to the stone, masses of geese rose from a nearby field, milled around, then headed west.

Below are some photos of my visit:

The tide was slowing retreating as I walked to the stone

Milling geese making a racket

The Clochmabenstane surrounded by round haylage bales, which my father once called dongels,
though I haven't found that usage mentioned anyway else.

The east weathered and yellow-lichened face of the stone

The south face/edge of the stone

The west face of the stone, with its suggestion of a nose

The north face of the stone

The smaller stone, which has been set into the hawthorn hedge

The shoreline with the tide moving out

Another of my dramatic cloud photos

View across the Solway Firth that, in ancient times, could be forded when the tide is fully out by crossing mudflats
and wading across a narrow stretch of water

Another view of the firth

Once I finished my survey of the stone and sat with it for a while, I headed back to my car and drive on to my destination in Moffat (more in another post).

I hope you enjoyed this post. I am slowly catching up with my travel reports during my time during the two residencies at Stiwdio Maelor and I appreciate your patience.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl 

Gwaith 17: Snow in Corris

Haia Pawb (Hiya Everyone)

A couple of weeks ago, we had a little bit of snow, though the temperature wasn't cold enough for it to do more than settle in nooks and crannies on the tops of the hills surrounding the town. However, this morning I woke up to snow covering the ground and still falling.

View out my bedroom window

After taking some photos from the front door of Stiwdio Maelor, I threw on some clothes, including my waterproof overpants, and went for a walk.

From the Stiwdio Maelor doorway

When I first wandered up the road, the snow was falling so fast I thought I might not last too long. However, it slowed down after a few minutes and after I took some photos close to the village, I went up past The Italian House.

A field just down the road 

Birds dancing on the snow?

Today was not my first experience of snow. I have visited snow fields near Melbourne. However, this is the first time I've actually experienced walking through softly falling snow and walking on a thick covering of snow. One thing I noticed was the sound of my boots with every step on snow that no one else had traversed, a crunch-pop as the weight broke through the top layer of snow crust and burst through to the softer stuff below. Not quite the snap-crackle-pop of that old TV ad for Rice Bubbles, but close.

Below are more photos from my walk:

My footprints 

The Italian House

The trail to the lookout

Once I brushed away the snow from a flat slab of slate, my usual meditation spot at the lookout, I sat down to absorb the view of white crusted trees, swaths of snow on nearby rocks and smothering the bases of trees, and the distant slopes half hidden by mist, half bleached by snow.

Distant view from the lookout

Closer view of trees

Some ruins at the lookout

The Arthurian pool at the back of the lookout

From the pool

Whenever the traffic from the main road on the other side of the valley disappeared, all I could hear were the occasional creaks of pine trees as they bore the weight of snow, the constant tumble of water into a pool to my right, and the soft plops of snowdrops on my jacket. Every now and then a robin, a coal tit, a tree sparrow or some other hidden bird would trill, tweet, chirp or chit-chit-churr its appreciation or annoyance at the chilly whiteness around us.

An old slate miner's house

The trail down the other side of the hill

By a local kid

By the time I returned to Corris, the road was wet with snowmelt, and, as the day wore on, the snow disappeared, drawn up by the hidden sun’s heat into a mist that hung over the valley.

Corris in Snow

As always, I hope you enjoy this post and I welcome your comments.

Cofion Cynnes

Earl

What do you think? More tomorrow!

PS. I realise I have been quite lax in posting news of my travels. My excuse is that I have been busy with the Christmas trip to Germany to catch up with Jo and with tackling my 3000+ words a day of draft three work (which has not been entirely successful), plus Welsh language and landscape immersion. I’ll write another post soon to let you know the status of things. Thanks again for your ongoing support.