A quick trip last weekend to visit Hazel's new home, a converted byre down a long lane with nothing nearby but fields, a pub, and a postbox. What more does a poet need? asks Haz. We have porridge and poetry readings for breakfast, and take a trip to Evesham where a crazy shop called High Street Milan sells sequin puffa jackets incredibly cheaply.. yes of course I bought one. Perfect for the Sunday night 'Resonate' performanc at Media Arts with Howard Vause projecting visuals from the DVD - including alphabetti serendipity. An amazing night - especially the collaborative impro 'homage to Stockhausen' - us live, and three multi-media musicians all going at once. ("I'll die happy now I've heard a Stockhausen tribute band" heard from one fan.)

Final writers' group of the year at Mike's place - great words and wonderful desert.



I'm off to New York with Hazel for the next few days, where it will be freezing, so will take a break with a warm memory:
at Paul & Annie's party, my dancing partner and I realised, simultaneously, that we met once before, 13 years ago, in a tiny village in Turkey called Gümüşlük where she was living then, moon dancing in her garden.
I was there leading my first ever holiday writing group, so here's a picture I've dug out from the album, me with my group on an educational trip to the mudbaths:

Reeds tall as longing

dallying in Dalyan

water green as dreams.


Happy midwinter celebrations!