The holiday is over, we’ve returned from possibly the most poetic place in the world to, possibly, the least. OK, not the least, but this town with its sheep chewed hills and Tory ethos is a Disney movie in comparison, a faded shortbread tin full of broken toys, a plastic sequinned party dress made in a sweatshop in Beijing.
And that’s about as much as I can say about the trip just now, it will likely take me ten years to write it up with the authenticity it deserves. If you can’t wait that long read The Poems of Norman MacCaig, which will give you an emotional sense of the place. Couple it with a little bit of James Hutton, and you’ll be almost there.
Meanwhile, I stumbled on this last night, and as, a) the contents of my head need a couple of hours in a hot oven before I can write sense and, b) I’m ineffably fond of Charlie Kaufman, I thought I’d share. Here’s a quote which feels especially important:
“When you’re doing a movie, writing a screenplay, you have to know why it’s a movie, and if it doesn’t have to be a movie you shouldn’t do it. It’s very important that what you do is specific to the medium in which you’re doing it, and that you utilise what’s specific about that medium. And if you can’t think about why it needs to be done this way, then it doesn’t need to be done this way.”
As someone who struggles with the ‘what* am I?’ thing I find this incredibly levelling. Anyway, get yourself a drink and a tray of favourite snacks, and sit back for 40 minutes, you deserve it:
*fiction writer; poet; photo-artist/woman with a camera…?