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Monthly Archives: October 2017

Reflections…Week Forty Two

canstockphoto8630797In a little over three weeks, one will find out how my short story faired in the Brighter Futures writing competition.
Myself and competition wins go together like myself and Lottery wins, nice in theory but short on the ground.
That does not mean one is not pleased with the entry, it’s just usually there is someone just a wee bit better, but this time even second place will be a win.

There is a prize as well, but they have not told anyone what it is. Not sure why, if it is a universal prize – such as money/voucher, surely that would have been an incentive to enter. But with it being a mystery I wonder if it is something that only a writer would appreciate – a good pen.

I know it took several trips to my local stores to get the pens that I use today, and although my range was very limited due to budget, I knew that the feel and weight, how it sat in my hand, would be important for my comfort in writing.
One cannot even tell you what the ‘names’ of the pens are, they are just the Lamy and the Parker (with green ink). Both glide over the page with a good speed and leave an ink trail with very little pressure.

Although I was told that the Lamy could only use the ink cartridges designed for the pens, and not the smaller, cheaper, cartridges that I had a plenty, I looked at the ends and thought…

These look the same, worst that would happen is I spill ink everywhere. So with newspaper down to catch the ink spill, I tried the smaller cartridge. It fit and I have been using my stock ever since, that was over a year ago now, I have a lot of stock due to buying the bulk bags when on offer. Sure they last about a third of the time less, but one can live with that.

So if the prize is ‘just a pen’ then yes, if it ‘feels’ right I would be more than happy with the prize.

Look at me, drooling over the potential of winning a pen.
Only a few will appreciate that thought.

*On late this week due to technical difficulties.

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

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Reflections…Week Forty One

canstockphoto8630797It may be time for big boy pants.

There has been very little happening this week, so like many an English gent before me, I shall complain about the weather.

I do not know what the blazes is going on this year but the weathers gone mad. One can fully understand how our predecessors thought the Gods were angry with them, with whats been going on, to be totally honest, I am beginning to wonder if they were right.

To top it all off it has coincided with the solar eclipse.

So – no sun, hurricane after hurricane after hurricane, tropical storms, more storms, red sun and a storm. Whats next frogs and locusts from the sky?

Did we ask for a sign they are upset?

Global warming is not happening, so it has to be something other than science, definitely the Gods.

Maybe it’s not the Gods, but rather one angry mother. She has given us clues as to what we are doing wrong, but we have ignored them, or made them worse, so now she is shaking us up.

Unfortunately the decision makers seem to have their heads firmly up their posteriors, making decisions that do not even seem to be making sense. So it up to all of us to make changes that will help the planet, because if we don’t, we will only have a rubbish tip to live on, if we have even that at all.

This has been my proverbial barber small talk session, weather to politics, I’m not a sports fan!

But it may be warming up next week, still warm enough for shorts?

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

It’s Easy to Speak… #poem #poetry

 

Words,
that was what failed me,
at my breakdown.
My mind it did care not,
for adverb nor noun.

Twisted, contorted,
my body did bend.
Painful the motion,
for word it to send.

Of fear and of panic,
I – was to feel.
Blow from the madness,
I – was to reel.

That it was my speech,
would fail me so.
Pain felt with each word,
a sentence to sow.

Questions were asked,
and answers were pained.
Though for the DR’s,
no answers were gained.

Why did my speech change,
I still do not know.
Just came and then stayed,
will it not go?

Thankful my body,
no longer writhe.
Though when I’m speaking,
still it’s not lithe.

Stiffly it does move,
whilst limping on.
On words it will stick,
n stumble upon.

So not always easy,
then just to speak.
For me, was a big change,
one day, of one week.

A § M
15/10/2017

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/writing

Reflections…Week Forty

This week I have written and submitted a poem Man…#poetry#poem to Restoke’s – ManUp, they replied, very kindly offering to let me read my poem out loud at one of their events. To which I quickly turned them down. I am not at the point of being in the public light that much yet.

Never being the one for performing spoken word, I still feel the knots in my stomach from when I had to at High School in the English lessons, it was always something that one shied away from. Whilst this is the case, the inner person who has written the poem does not want to see someone else read it also. Oh the horror of it being read incorrectly.

I have a strange relationship with speech, with the ‘breakdown’ came a new way of speaking. Although the Dr’s have never worked out what caused the change or why, it does have links to Anxiety. The higher the Anxiety the more pronounced the problem. At one point it took my body painful contortions to get my words out, that leaves a mark on your memory. One I don’t wish to repeat.

One day my self esteem and self belief will be at a point that not only will I do spoken poetry, My poetry, but I will also be looking forward to it.

Maybe it will be the incorrect reading of my poetry by someone else that will break that barrier down.

We shall see.

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017

Man… #poetry #poem

A ‘Man’ cannot cry.
Emotion not show.
This is the lesson,
we learn as we grow.

Ridiculed in the school,
and ‘Gay” are we called.
If tears we do show,
for names that are called.

Character building,
is said it to be.
The spit in my hair,
and the blood on my knee.

The victim fights back,
and wins my first fight.
Then I get punished,
just how is that right?

The one became two,
and then became three.
I am the week one,
that’s what they tell me.

Complain I dare not,
and get called a ‘Girl.’
Try now to hide it,
will give it a whirl.

Now it is bottled,
tis working well.
Take home the pressure,
still we don’t tell.

__

If it leaks out,
you’r not a ‘Man.’
Too much to carry,
you’r not a ‘Man.’

Asking for help,
you’r not a ‘Man.’
Bought to your knees,
you’r not a ‘Man.’

__

We don’t ask for your help,
as it shows that we’re weak.
Admitting our problems,
tis a trait of the meek.

Then there’s the ‘New Man,’
we try to be both.
Still short of  – the ‘Man’s Man.’
it brings down his wroth.

I can’t be a ‘Man,’
and neither be ‘Me.’
To take one’s own life,
a chance to be “Free.’

Free from the standard,
of the word – ‘Man.’
But then it’s to late to,
find out it’s a sham.

On medication,
we hide out of sight.
Avoiding the questions,
ashamed of our plight.

Courage it takes us
from – ‘Man’ – now to walk.
Open our feelings,
in therapy – talk.

Become our own person,
in our own right.
Finding my own me,
and leaving the fight.

I stand on my own ground.
My battle cry – I – sound.
From ‘Man’ – now – I am – free.
Before you, stands —
ME.

A § M
8/10/2017

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/writing

WELSH GOVERNMENT CONTINUE TO FUND CHARITIES AMID CLEAR EVIDENCE OF WORKPLACE BULLYING

WELSH GOVERNMENT CONTINUE TO FUND CHARITIES AMID CLEAR EVIDENCE OF WORKPLACE BULLYING

Rebloged, could you please do the same for this one.
https://awanderthroughthemind.wordpress.com/2017/10/04/cut-cut-cut-part-two/ These are both services that should be available throughout the UK.

WORKPLACE BULLYING WALES

Tomorrow is World Mental Health Day and as readers will know the theme this year is mental health in the workplace. Workplace bullying is on the rise and the third/charity sector seems to be a hotbed of bad practice here in Wales.

hafal1

Take a look at the blog site of John Gilheaney, a former employee of Welsh mental health charity Hafal. Bullying in the workplace has been reported by many staff.

AN OPEN PUBLIC INTEREST CONCERN LETTER TO FIRST MINISTER CARWYN JONES AM

The First Minister Carwyn Jones and other key Ministers have been made aware of the serious allegations against this organisation and yet Hafal still receive considerable Welsh Government funding with no apparent move to investigate these serious complaints. This appears to be the same for other charities.

With extreme pressure on an ever diminishing pot of public money surely the people of Wales should…

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Reflections…Week Thirty Nine

canstockphoto8630797This is a reflection of remembrance.

I found out on Thursday that a person whom I shared time with at art class passed away last week.

I did not know him well  but he, and his artistic style, will be remembered for some time.

He had earned himself the nickname of grumpy Pete, but I think it was, once you got to know him better, a tool for his own entertainment. Many a time I saw that whilst he was grumping away, he was also suppressing a smile, I have never seen a truly grumpy person do that.  And after he had said what he wanted to say, he would inevitably look around the room for takers. If none took a bite he would then direct the grump towards an individual. You could even say it was his way to start a conversation.

His artistic style was nearly polar opposite to mine, and in one conversation he also had an effect in the way I tried to approach my work. His painting were splodge’s, dabs, an almost haphazard placement of paint on canvas, layers upon layers of paint. I do not recall ever seeing a smooth painting of his. Nor did I ever see him worrying about blending colours on the canvas to create tone or shadow. Shadows themselves were created by the texture of the pain put onto canvas. Light, and the different angles of it, had a direct effect on his work. This meant that at different times of the day the same picture could have a slightly different look about it, just from the shadows cast.

His passing was of a surprise, he was of about the same age as me, however he suffered from epilepsy and it was one of these fits that ultimately put him in a coma to which he was never to wake from.

The words that he said that altered my perspective on my art could also be applied to life as well. I may not have them as a direct quote but I will do my best.

Here’s to you Pete

You know, people often think that creating art is all about drawing the outline. That they have to draw it as one line. But I found that if you draw lot of little lines, and not worry about where you put them so much, the outline just appears.”

 

www.awanderthroughthemind.co.uk/reflections-2017