It’s a hard bright day. I am becoming more and more interested in my garden, and steep narrow downward strip. With the help of Cath the gardener we are decking and planting and generally making it a manageable place to be in. I want to get a sculpture of a lovely big stone woman to put at the bottom…an anti Atkins goddess that I can worship.
Today we drive to Sheffield to see the one woman version of Fanny Cradock at the Crucible. I have lots of deadlines this February, so it feels like a bit of a luxury. I am going to write a short story based on Rhapsody In Blue for Radio Four. Also I need to finish the first draft of the sitcom, which is called NEW BLOOD. And whenever I am not doing that I am thinking about Red Spot babies and where science and people collide. Infact, that’s the theme that holds everything I am doing together at the moment; it’s the interaction of humanity and medicine, creativity and health.
For my own nourishment I have decided to have one day a week which is a poetry day, when I write, or work on poems, or just go and BE. I have such a tendency to work all the the time, that I forget to look around me, or just to enjoy playing with words. Writing poetry or song is the best medicine I know.
The other night we went to the launch concert of Tim Dalling’s CD BLOSSOM…..he has set many of Louis McNiece’s poems to music…it was a really wonderful performance, and I am a complete fan. Like lots of other writers I am mad about the folksinger Gillian Welch at the moment. I also just bought a Landers and Wilson CD that I really like. February is a good month for new music and interesting soups, I think.