Make or find a photograph of a place with which you have some sort of relationship. Write something to appear, framed, alongside the photograph. Maybe a poem?
After a time of quiet, go to a tiny patch of ground outside.
1 – After a few minutes return indoors to write an objective paragraph about what you saw
2 – Make a list of the things you saw
3 – Write a second paragraph describing your personal view of what you saw
1 – Finish / polish the piece worked on in the 31 January session
2 – Seek out another special place and ‘bring it into the room’ for us as an antidote to the stresses and strains of your / our world
Angela Locke writes
Homework for our next session on 17 January 2019 is to
Make a list of 10 places that are special to you in the Lake District
Circle one you would like to visit before our next session
Go to that place, spend a little quiet time there
Write about it
Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!
The homework set by Angela for the session on 5 July was to consider carefully this speech from The Tempest
‘Our revels now are ended’
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yes, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
From The Tempest Act 4 Scene 1
See what really stands out for you from this speech. It may be one line or the moods of the whole. Make of it what you will and write a poem (max. 50 lines) or prose (max. 300 words) based on your reaction. Bring it along to share at the session on 5 July.
Unsure of where my margins lie
Know only that
In my fishy depths strange energies
Tossing me hither and thither.
The storms that make me heave and writhe
Pull my tears into the sky
To fall as dew on a rose’s bloom
Or rain on forest canopies.
Am filled by others’ lives
Their stories flowing into my depths
Tranquil now, a mirror, I
Reflect the stars and sun and moon
And, yes, your face.
I cast myself in arching bows
A dove of peace upon my breast.
in his studio
to espy and
in his studio