‘you know your mum is a uni student when …’

Well, it was inevitable my kids and I would put this list together.

Mes enfants, are, by the way, three gorgeous little boys. I’m not sure I’ve gone into speaking about them much here, but they are 6, 7 and 8 years old – each one unique and invaluable. They’re not always impeccably behaved, but they are the loves of my life.

They are also very patient most of the time with a thirtysomething mummy who goes to university.

So, here’s the list you’ve all been waiting for (I’m sure – especially since you didn’t know it was coming).

(NB: I hope you have a sense of humour, readers – even with full time uni work, my kids are my priority and are certainly well looked after!)

You know your mum is a uni student when …

1. She has more homework than you.

2. You eat pizza more often than any other kid you know.

3. Her new friends are trying to adopt her as their second mum.

4. Her new friends are the ones getting your leftover Halloween sweets (curse them!).

5. She accidentally swears (albeit quietly) whilst picking you up from school, because she forgot to send your cakes for the Christmas party (she bought them, but had a test in Chinese, and got her days mixed up.)

6. But the teachers are more sympathetic than ever – so she only gets a little telling off for swearing, and will send cakes on Friday instead.

7. The kitchen table now appears to be made entirely of books.

8. The kitchen sink has more dishes in it than it used to have …

9. You now know what a 3kg bag of pasta looks like.

10. She never leaves the house without a pencil case.

11. You start saying things like ‘when I’m big and go to university, like Mum …’.

12. You know what Marxist theory and postmodernism are – and you’re only seven.

13. Those cakes she bought up there in #5 and #6? She used to bake them herself, once upon a time.

Well, this is what we have so far.

It’s almost guaranteed we will add to this list regularly – I’ve only been at uni since September. Plenty of time for my kids to believe I’ve become even weirder than I was before …

no one should be complacent about poetry

I mean it! *puts on firm but fair mum / schoolteacher voice for the duration*

Maybe you think: ‘Oh, I totally understand poetry and I live and breathe verse. Actually I talk in rhymes at least 20 times a day.’ (yeah there’s an internal rhyme in there).

Or, you could be thinking: ‘Actually I don’t understand poetry, therefore I hate it, it means nothing to me. Go away and let me do my engineering formulas and computer programmes.’ (sorry boyfriend, this one is based on you).

Why so polarised, folks?

First of all, let’s get some very basic things out of the way about not understanding poetry.

Point one: do you ever receive a greeting card? Now, I used to think writing the greetings for cards for a living would be selling my poet’s soul to capitalism, but other points of view from older, wiser writers (both named Susan! Thanks Sues!) have caused me to rethink. Not everyone feels the urge or ability to put things into just the right words – hence the need for cards. But, when you get one given to you, it means something to you, because the person who wanted to say those things scoured the card shop for just the right one.

That is poetry! Commonplace, but poetry nonetheless.

Point two: do you listen to music with singing/speaking in it, and is that singing/speaking in English, or your own first language, or a language you understand?

If not, feel free to ignore this bit. If so, then again you are experiencing yet more commonplace poetry for the masses. When I was much younger, and falling in love with writing poetry, much of my style was informed by pop, rock and folk music. It still is to a degree. Bob Dylan? He’s a poet, and a damned good one. No one will ever convince me otherwise. Turin Brakes, who I blogged about the other day? Some of the most gorgeous lyrics ever written – that’s poetry. Let’s now consider Tupac, or Eminem, or any other artist related to rap music and hip hop culture. Yeah. That’s right. Poets.

Yet it disturbs me to go on Amazon and look at the poetry top tens. Very few books and pamphlets released by contemporary poets end up in those lists, particularly in Britain. Are the ones who are there only there because people have to read them at A Level or university? If that’s the case, it’s disappointing.

Currently I am reading a book called, oddly enough, Writing Poems, from my university reading list. In it, Peter Sansom acknowledges that many poets do not read poetry. This is indeed the case a lot of the time.

Well I’m not one of them!

True, I don’t buy as much as I should, but that’s because I’m skint most of the time. This year, however,  the poetry I’ve purchased and read includes the collection Strange Light by American slam poet Derrick Brown, and Singer, a pamphlet by Sally Goldsmith, a local poet here in Sheffield. There are also the books in the Alternative Poetry Books series (Pink, Blue and Yellow so far) by Michele Brenton (aka Banana the Poet). All of these poets are contemporary, and all worth your time to read them. And get this – you don’t need a literature degree to understand their words.

You don’t need a literature degree to understand any poetry. Stop letting your memories of school frighten you. You only need to feel it on some level and be able to read. Heck, if it’s spoken word, you don’t even need to be able to read. In Shakespeare’s day, most of the audience was illiterate but they fecking loved the plays. Which were also … yes, written mostly in verse.

2012 should be the year of a poetry revolution. Buy at least two books of poetry for the entire year. For the majority of people I’m willing to bet that would be two more than you’d normally buy (if, like me, this is not the case – don’t be offended! I know you guys are out there!). Or hey, start now. Let’s get this rethinking revolution under way!

free verse is not as free as I once thought …

Well, this isn’t going to be much of a post. Even though I’ve discovered the “schedule post” function, there is still a lot of writing I need to do that doesn’t involve this blog. But blog I must.

For uni, obviously lots of writing is involved – creative and academic. It’s all first year stuff, so our poetry so far consists in a ballad, a sonnet and a free verse piece.

Easy right? I’m a fecking poet, this  is a piece of cake.

No, it isn’t.

What I want to know is, why, after so many years of writing free verse poetry, is free verse so hard to write?

Oh that’s right, because I was doing it wrong. At least by university standards – it does work for performance. But open mic nights will not get me a good grade.

Now we have to create a set metre, and watch what we’re doing with internal rhyme and consonance and assonance. This is all well and good, but it is difficult. All the lines have to follow the pattern we start with in the first place.

This is not beat poetry. This is free verse.

So I’m about to get my literary on (tell us something new, right!), and write a poem about every single crush I’ve ever had in my life by amalgamating them into metaphor men, and a finite number of lines, and say something serious and sincere whilst dealing with such fluffy and frivolous subject matter.

Fabulous premise, isn’t it?

I feel as though I “has the dumb”. Poetry gods, give me a break here.

P.S. I got a 2.1 (that’s like a B, before you ask) on my first literature essay. Fear me, for I am somewhat intelligent at talking nonsense. (No, really, apparently I got better marks for style than for doing the essay properly. Oscar Wilde would be so proud.)

amazing stuff: Turin Brakes cover ‘Chim Chim Cher-ee’

This blog does not do straight up reviews, this much is clear. I write about the creative things that move me, that others might also find worthwhile. Whether that creativity is from a famous person or a relatively obscure one doesn’t really matter.

Today you get Turin Brakes. They’re pretty famous.

So this is a blatant fan girl post, but bear with me – it’s for a good cause.

On 24/11, my friend Katie and I went to see Turin Brakes play their entire debut album, The Optimist LP, at Leadmill in Sheffield. For their second encore, before which around thirty people actually left the building (feel free to pity them), they played their new cover version of ‘Chim Chim Cher-ee’ from Mary Poppins.

It absolutely blew everyone away.

Their rendition of this song has been described about 600 times now as “haunting”, and though it would be best to come up with something more unique, that word sums it up. The band even described it that way. They’ve taken this song and made it something more.

Another bonus is that when you download it on iTunes (for 79p – bargain), every penny is split between two homeless shelters in Amarillo, Texas and Shelter UK, a charity that helps the homeless and vulnerable here at home.

(Yes, yes, I am banging on about Shelter at Christmastime for the second year running. It’s cold, and no one should have to suffer in that way when we live in a wealthy country. Sad that we even need a charity for this, but there you go.)

It also appears on the Xerox EP, which, it has come to my attention, also includes a cover of The Connells’ ’74-75′. I haven’t heard this yet but I will be sure to update this post when I have (currently eagerly awaiting my copy of the CD). That is one of my favourite songs, and Turin Brakes are incredibly talented, so how this could go anywhere near wrong? It just seems … right.

[UPDATE: My copy of the Xerox EP arrived today, and if you buy it, you will not be disappointed. 'Rescue Squad' is a brilliant, upbeat country-rock flavoured number, and as expected, '74-75' is spot on perfectly exquisite. I've had the disc for three hours and I've listened to it twelve times already. Thank you, Turin Brakes, you never fail to impress.]

I will leave you with ‘Chim Chim Cher-ee’ so you can decide for yourself about their version.

(Worth mentioning: the bluesy middle eight will almost certainly get ya, even if the rest of it doesn’t.)

poetry #3: a man named god (for Ethan)

I promised poetry, so I’m delivering.

Not saying it’s serious poetry, or any good, and it might be blasphemous to some – but one, it’s not meant to be serious, so that leaves two (good) and three (blasphemous) for each reader to decide for themselves.

A little back story. My son, our little Wolfie, who does in fact identify himself with the Christian faith, dreams of being an astrophysicist when he grows up, and has an imagination the size of Jupiter, made a comment to me the other day. You will find those comments at the end of the poem, within the poem. This was written for him after a friend suggested the things he said would make great poetry, and considered his comments could be part of “Theology for the New Doctor Who Generation” (love it!). ‘A Man Named God’ was first performed last Thursday at The Riverside Bar in Sheffield.

(NB: I’m not sure why God is kind of a hipster geek, but it works.)

A Man Named God (For Ethan)

In the beginning, the universe … was.
And God wandered in.
He found a little corner, the cosmic rubbish bin.
He started then to think about the power he possessed
With no one there to listen to the worries that oppressed
His angsty mind.

‘Why in all of space and time
Did I decide on this hell-hole?
Hmm … “hell” – that’s an interesting idea.
But no one cares, there’s no one here!’

Out of boredom, he twiddled his gigantic thumbs
And all the bits of fiery gas
Were swirled around,
And broken apart,
Each with their own mass.
For argument’s sake, we’ll call them stars.

And God said,
‘This is pretty! Check out my upcycled art!’
But he was still talking to himself.

To save his sanity, he played a game
Knocking balls of rock
Into one another with a
Big stick he conjured out of nothing
(Because he could conjure sticks,
But no one to talk to.)

And some of the chunks of gas and metal
All sort of … settled, around one star.
And God was like,
‘This is freaking amazing!
I wonder what else I can do
With all this trash?’

The almost never-ending stash –
But instead he decided to have a rest
Near an interesting bit of rock
Quite a comfortable distance
From the central star.

Then he noticed from afar
(Because God has mega eyesight)
Something moving in the water!

And he was puzzled.
‘I didn’t make this happen?’
The friction from knocking rocks
Caused a chemical reaction!

Microbes!
They were alive!
God sat and watched the drama unfold
As the tiny organisms danced to and fro.
And so it went on for billions of years
Until God, once again,
Was bored to tears.

Eventually dinosaurs appeared –
But God sort of preferred the furry mammal types …

So he brought out the rocks again.
The rest is history –
When primates came down from the trees,
God finally had friends!

But they were somewhat afraid of him.
And he never understood
Why they blamed him for the weather
And asked so many pointless questions!

Then, after several million years,
One small human child
Told his mother:
‘I think God made our solar system
From the rubbish bits left over.
But we can’t colonise other planets
Because we’d be no better
Than the Daleks!
What if we killed off ourselves and the Time Lords?!’

Finally, God laughed!
(Not least of all because he loved
Doctor Who as much as the next guy)
Millennia of questions, war, debates
And this little guy
Is the one who got it.

© 2011 Kate Garrett

christmas spirit does not come from supermarkets.* or their adverts.

(*excluding whiskey, rum – yeah, yeah, you get the idea and the lame pun. I used it last year, too.)

Around this time last year, I was feeling romantic and joyous about Christmas, because I’d heard ‘Fairytale of New York’ playing in Tesco whilst I bought festive things like that night’s dinner, and Elf on dvd for my children.

This year, in an ironic twist of tunes, Tesco nearly ruined my Christmas.

The week before last, my boyfriend was in the living room with the telly on, whilst I was sitting at the kitchen table, happily writing something for my uni portfolio. Happily, that is, until I heard some awful overdone, over-polished instrumental festive “music” that sounded vaguely like The Pogues coming from the television.

This is not merely an instrumental version of ‘Fairytale of New York’, it’s a wronged-up-sideways version of a beautiful, poignant piece of art being used to sell people things. It has a weird tinkly flourish at the end that almost gave me yet another existential crisis.

I am well aware this is a daft rant, but I think it’s symbolic. If uplifting songs about drunk people fighting and reaching an uneasy truce on Christmas Eve aren’t sacred any more, what is left of the Christmas spirit? Christmas isn’t about buying a bunch of stuff! How long have people like Dr Seuss and Charles Dickens been trying to get this shizz across to everyone?

Too fecking long!

Christmas is about arguing with people, then making up with them! That’s family! That’s love.

Here, if you have at any point in time heard / seen / experienced the Tesco ad, cleanse your eyes and ears. My friend rescued me by posting it to my facebook. I will now return the favour:

That’s all from me this time. I have to spread my holiday cheer elsewhere, hopefully with a little less Pogues-related angst.

all I want for december is … a social life and blog posts. and poetry.

It is 22:18 (that’s 10:18pm – for yanks and others who do not use the 24 hour clock) and everyone in this house is sleeping. Yesterday I finally faced blog-dread so massively heavy it had almost become a separate entity created from the fear of my own lack of blogging. And who wants a poltergeist created by a poet? Books of Keats and Kerouac thrown at your head, a pen in the eye. It wouldn’t be pretty.

So, hello.

My reason for not blogging since October is simple, and can be summed up in one word: university.

In fact, that is a pretty basic sum-up, so let’s be real here. I’m 31, I have three sons in primary school and a boyfriend who probably wants to speak to me now and then. I am studying on a BA creative writing course. And as surprising as this sounds, I do like to have a bit of a social life.

However when the blogging went on hiatus, so did the social life. I needed time to get to grips with all that juggling. Now I have.

Anyway. The course is fantastic – some lovely fellow students, and wonderful lecturers. When we go to university there’s always a worry (yeah, even at my age – in fact, maybe at my age the worry is greater) that what we’re studying is going to turn out to be the entirely wrong thing for us. This is not the case so far – if anything, the opposite is true. I’ve never felt like more of a poet in my life.

Well, apart from in high school when I didn’t have a desk in algebra class, so I used to sit on the floor, under the window, and write free-verse beat poetry instead of learning about quadratic equations.

It hasn’t done me any long-term damage.

So, right, poetry. There is, in fact, so much poetry floating around in my head, and waiting to be plucked out of the ether, and from the concrete of Sheffield’s streets, that I actually can’t think about much else lately.

“So give us a poem then!” you’re thinking.

All in good time … say, tomorrow. Maybe later tonight if I can’t sleep. I have a backlog of poems since I haven’t been on wordpress since October.

At the moment I just wanted to say hello, in between reading literary criticism on the play Look Back in Anger, and researching the philosophical implications to our personal identity created by the idea of regeneration in Doctor Who. And studying Mandarin Chinese. Oh and finding the stuff for my report about the blurred line between reality and fantasy as it relates to anime culture in Japan.

(Yes, before you ask – as one friend did – this is a real BA course.)

For now, I will leave you with … a Christmas song! Yay. I hope you like My Chemical Romance.

Be safe, be happy. Until next time!

The comedy universe of Chella Quint

When I first had the pleasure of meeting Chella Quint and her wife Sarah, we were introduced by a mutual friend at The Riverside in Sheffield during an Opus Acoustics vs. WordLife Poetry event. Both of us drinking Corona and lime, Chella and I were pleased to discover we are each long-time USA expats in the UK (just over 12 years for both of us, but Chella hailing from a much more exciting corner of the States – Brooklyn, New York).

However, it didn’t take me long to encounter Ms Quint’s wicked, quirky sense of humour as well – one that most of us can only dream of having.

“So, turns out that satellite didn’t hit anyone.” I said to her (we both have an interest in space).

“I wanted it to hit me! NASA is liable for it!”

Wondering where this was going, and thinking very inside the box, I listed money and possibly fame as benefits of this.

“No way! I don’t want that,” Chella replied with an excited grin. “But they’d have to give me a big bionic space cargo arm!” Then, she goes on to say, she could do her bit for galactic exploration by replacing solar turbines on space stations. Losing a limb would be in no way fun, but Chella managed to find a positive if it happened to be a falling satellite that did it.

Welcome to the world of comedy writer and performer Chella Quint. It’s an expansive universe as well, that includes the zines* Adventures in Menstruating, The Venns and It’s Not You. I Just Need Space. (Interplanetary Letters of Love and Rejection), as well as regular performances and readings around Sheffield.

(*that’s pronounced zeen like scene not zign like sign!)

Adventures in Menstruating fascinated me from the start. As a woman, I’d be inclined to say that’s inevitable, but that begs the question: how many of us ladies don’t even consider our monthly cycle in any depth? This zine forces one to do just that. And why not? It’s there every month for most of us, and if it isn’t, there’s a reason why, so clearly it’s a big part of our lives. I bought Issue #6, and I’m keen to read more. AiM #6 looks at choices in feminine hygiene products (trust me, it goes way beyond Always and Tampax, folks), and features comics, poetry and short stories relating to menstruation. This zine will open your mind about your own experience with monthly cycles and get you thinking about it in a new way! This goes for the men out there as well. Politely speaking, it may be time some of you understood things a little better, guys.

I also purchased It’s Not You. I Just Need Space. that evening at The Riverside, and devoured every word the following day. In this zine, planets, galaxies, space contraptions and even the Universe itself write letters between themselves with heartfelt humour. There is only one issue of this zine to date, and it’s well worth a read. (I particularly love the letter sequence from the Universe to Earth.) There is also a tumblr site of the same name which is regularly updated with new letters.

The Venns is the only one of Ms Quint’s zines I haven’t read. But I will buy one, and I will read it. The Venns sounds delightful. It’s based on her quest for the perfect pub quiz, and according to the website, is a “spoof research paper on the workings of the average pub quiz team”. You can find out more in detail about The Venns by clicking through to the site.

In addition to the zines, Chella is involved with what she describes as “geeky pop culture collective”, Talk About the Passion, for which she will be doing a space feature this week.

Chella has several upcoming events where you can catch her genius at work (and those are my words, no one I showcase tells me to say nice stuff about them – I just believe in what they do). They are the following:

• She will be performing at the Dead Poets Slam as the formidable Dorothy Parker as part of Sheffield’s Off the Shelf Festival on Tuesday 11 October, 8pm at the Lescar.
• On Monday 24 October, 7pm at The Riverside, Chella will be compering Slam Bam Thank You Ma’am, Sheffield’s women-only poetry slam and part of LaDIYfest Sheffield. The winner of this competition will be crowned Sheffield’s Grand Dame of Slam, and donations from the audience will go to support Sheffield Rape Crisis. (All in all a worthwhile event, and I for one hope to see you there.)
• Also as part of the Off the Shelf Festival, Chella will be performing her space work at Skype Me!, at the Showroom Cinema, Saturday 29 October at 7:30pm.
• And finally, she will be hosting a LaDIYfest pub quiz at the Rutland Arms on Sunday 13 November.

Chella Quint’s zines are out now, and will be available at the above events. Very soon the zines will also be available from TOSS (The Old Sweet Shop) and Rare and Racy book store, both in Sheffield.

So, read the zines, catch her performances, and if you’re a Doctor Who fan, try not to be jealous of something you will read in Adventures in Menstruating #6 (I’m not telling, but wow – Chella and Sarah are lucky ladies!).

Find out everything you need to know about Chella Quint and her work in more detail at www.chellaquint.com.

Starlings: “Dark Arts” Single and Tour – Autumn 2011

Autumn has arrived in Britain. The leaves are falling, we’re getting out the jumpers and bracing ourselves for shorter, colder days, and longer, darker nights. Halloween is almost in sight. It’s a beautifully atmospheric time of year.

But if you can’t wait until the end of next month for all things atmospheric and beautiful, you need only make it through another fortnight: Sheffield/London-based indie dance band Starlings have provided us with a new single, “Dark Arts”  (released on 10 October 2011) and the Dark Arts Tour kicking off on Monday 26th September at Sheffield’s very own SOYO. Following Monday’s gig, Starlings can be found at various venues around England until the beginning of December (see dates below).

Dark Arts 2011 Tour Dates

If you aren’t already familiar with their music, you will be pleasantly surprised by taking a chance on Starlings. Fans of the singles “Sirens” and “Weight in Gold” – you will not be disappointed by “Dark Arts”. And if you’re a fan, but haven’t already seen a Starlings live show … well, why haven’t you seen a Starlings show? Go for it! Go now!

Eyes closed … hands high

Photo © 2011 Katie Holmes

You will find the phrase above anywhere and everywhere relating to Starlings, and it’s spot-on accurate for describing the vibe at live shows.

Their set at Tramlines (we caught the show on the Saturday night, at Foundry, Sheffield Students’ Union) in July was spectacular. The crowd were behind them all the way, with a real sense of unity and belonging between all parties.

The music sounds as spectacular live as it does on your iPod, and what’s more – the guys are friendly, and humbled by what we do as listeners: enjoy their music and show our appreciation. They’re not pretentious. They are genuine artists.

“Cool and calm you choose / To formulate a new dark voodoo …” 

Never has this writer been so excited about new singles and remix versions of songs since her hardcore Depeche Mode days in the late 1990s. And without wanting to draw direct comparisons, if you are in fact a fan of Depeche Mode, or other 80s and 90s indie dance bands, you will recognise a similar moody beauty in Starlings’ latest single, “Dark Arts”.

However, Starlings are not just about 80s electronic pop, and neither is this track. Though the band does admit its influence on their music (e.g. Heaven 17, Simple Minds, Talk Talk), “Dark Arts” is a blend of styles that is singularly Starlings. Mixing guitar-based indie with classic synthpop sounds, this song lulls you into a (albeit slightly sinister) comfort zone, only to yank you out of it with soaring house beats. Any attempt to avoid dancing is futile. (Trust me. You will be a public nuisance if you listen to this on the bus.)

Justin’s vocals are perfect, conveying the lyrics with a chilling clarity of regret and longing at being caught up in the “potions” and “poison arrows” of the subject’s “dark arts”. Surely we’ve all been there.

The single also  includes an extended version and radio edit, as well as four remixes (personally I’m digging the “Drums of Death” and “Burnt Island Casuals” mixes, but there’s something there for everyone).  It will be available for purchase on iTunes and other download sites from Monday, 10th October 2011.

Starlings. Dark Arts. If you’re going to remember three words relating to new music this autumn, make it these.

Press Photo © 2011 Adam Fussell

introducing “an artist helping artists”

Exciting things are about to happen with this blog (“It’s about bloody time!” I hear you cry.).

The title of this post should explain it all – artists helping artists. It’s been my intent for awhile to be able to blog about the plethora of creative people I am fortunate enough to meet or know personally – whether they are fellow writers and poets, musicians, painters, photographers, performers, crafters … the list goes on.

Each week I will devote at least one post to reviewing or over-viewing the work of these gifted folk. The first post will be revealed this very weekend. I know this is 100% true because I’ve already started writing it! And I’m bursting with enthusiasm for the subject matter – Sheffield’s own electro-indie darlings, Starlings.

You can familiarise yourself with this band before then by visiting their website www.starlings.co.uk. They have received press in Q magazine and the NME over the last couple of years, and with good reason. If you like indie, or dance, or indie-dance, or are/have ever been a fan of synth pop or house music (with a bit of guitar for good measure), then you will be happy you took the time to listen!

Until Friday … be lovely, readers!