Head. Space.

As the book might say, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? As the book also might say, I have been away. Which is to say, right here, shuffling around the same square footage of study for the last eight months, just like everyone else.

What have I been up to? I can’t really say, except that I have been engaging with the process. Except it has been a pleasure to dive into real head space and not have to think about communicating publicly with anyone. Except that I want to stay here a little longer.

How to put it? William Stafford once said that a writer is someone who ‘is not so much someone who has something to say as she is someone who has found a process that will bring about new things she would not have thought of if she had not started to say them.’ I love that. It’s long been a touchstone for me.

So the one thing I thought I was working on has turned out to be other things, or rather more things, and those things are requiring of me that I spend more time with them and by the same token less with you, here. And less online elsewhere as well, again by the same token. It is not easy, believe me. (I mean, just think of the football…) But I think by now you know which places I love. I do absolutely love Natalie Jabbar’s blog, reflowering, as every April, and on amazing form. And of course Shawna Lemay, also a touchstone.

Not to mention the absolute love of my researching life, Young Poets’ Stories with my colleagues Sue and Richard.

And music, without which I would probably be – well, let’s not go there. A current fave is this playlist by Aphex Twin (with a bit of Mr Sakamoto thrown in). And Wilf’s Dead Can Dance tape, which I have recreated in my iTunes. (Thanks, Wilf!) They take me into the deep head (.) space (.) that I am craving and which I beg your permission to enter once again. (I may repost some oldies and goodies from the vaults.) Till the next time, Anthony.

With thanks to Josephine Corcoran and Lucy Runge for their conversation and support.