Sunday, June 29, 2008

"Nothing is forever, but some things are very special" says Graham at Demos as we start our second week. Skyros Writers Lab this year was both special and ephemeral, and it's strange to be back in Frome with Glastonbury festival on the radio, downloading images of everyone I've left and not-quite understanding we won't meet up today in the white sundazzled walls of Skyros town. Like the hot sand and the warm sea and the high cerulean sky, they're all still on the slowly circling mind-carousel of memories.
So as a quick homage to my wonderful group who seized on every bizarre exercise I gave them and flew with it, here's an acrostic of magic moments:

S arah's ode, evoking varied voices and sharing and laughter, summed up our 'writer's lab'.
K ala! each day as Vasso's feasts appear on the fig-tree terrace.
Y oga early, beach-bunnying all afternoon, trailing up cobbled steps at dusk, strolling late downtown
R ooftop bar under the stars, where we linger to make each day three times longer than the night.
O nly this of me.... Rupert Brooke's memento mori, his monument a watchtower for full moon and solstice dawn,
S oiree on the last night: all that jazz of living: drama and poetry, soliloquies and songs... 'Nkosi Sikelel iAfrika'

C elebratiing creativity, and commitment, with passion and compassion,
E njoyment our essential way. not losing sight of shadows in the sun
N othing is forever, true, but 'now' is all we have,
T rusting is our difficult necessity; like Auden said, we love or die.
R eaching the edge is scary, and then when pushed we fly.
E nding as we began, alone. And if we are lucky, beloved.

And on the theme of returning home, I'll end with a plug for 'An Utterly Impartial History of Britain' by John O'Farrell, which had me helpless with giggles on the beach & I became one of those annoying people who makes you take your earphones out so they can read you bits even though you can't understand because they're laughing too much.
Laughter is what I will remember, like the sun and the cidadas and those ever-unnameable blues of the sea and the sky.

No comments: