Golden October

 

SEGMENTS is back!  Ledbury Poetry Festival has kindly given funding for 6 more monthly sessions and the next workshop will be on

MONDAY NOVEMBER 7th - as usual these sessions are free and open to all.

9.45am to 12 noon at Museum Resource & Learning Centre, Friars Street, Hereford. HR4 OAS.

Will the help of the wonderful MRLC staff we will have objects from the collection to inspire us, and as if that isn't enough, there will also be poetry and cake. As before there will be a theme for each stand-alone workshop and if Catherine can find the time (she is so very busy, as everyone with a proper job seems to be) she may come along to fill us in on the history and context of the objects after we've played with our imaginations.

So if you want a place please let me know as numbers will be limited.   New people are especially welcome. 

 

 

 A half day taster workshop will take place at the Haven in Hereford, 37 St Owen Street, Hereford, HR1 2JB.  Tel 01432 361061

FRIDAY 2nd DECEMBER  from 10am to 12.30 in The Rose Room.  £6 suggested donation. Open to all.

The theme will be "Lights" and we will have a mix of poems, quotations and music to start us off. (Yes, there will be cake too!)

If there is enough interest we will start a new series of writing workshops at the Haven starting late January 2012.

Please let me or The Haven know if you would like to reserve a place for 2nd December.   

Sally

 

Autumn Doggerel

Conkers only shine for a day

We pick them up as they fall and say

That’s a good one

Let’s gather up each day as it falls

Shine it on our sleeve and say

This is a good one

Some things only shine for a day

Before Time takes their gloss away

So gather ye conkers while ye may

sallygivertz@btinternet.com
www.healing-words.co.uk
http://sallygivertz.blogspot.com
01989 563370
07779 083510

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The September Issue

Creative Words for Wellbeing

Sally Givertz

This complementary therapy uses creative writing and creative thinking to help you to gain a stronger sense of identity and direction in your life.

HOW?

Through discussion of poems and prose, objects and pictures (chosen to suit your agenda) you can begin to see things differently, make new connections and enjoy freedom of expression.  This often leads to a renewed feeling of energy and excitement about life’s possibilities.

No great literary skills are needed and spelling and grammar aren’t important. But expressing yourself on paper is; the written word gives us time to think.

Speech is swift and rarely consciously considered. Writing can be considered, revised and sourced from a deeper level of the mind.

Typically writers will say:

“I don’t know where that came from.”

“I didn’t know I felt like that.”

  

In a session we will discuss writing, objects and pictures that are relevant to you.  We will choose these together but to start with I can give you plenty to work with.   Much of your own writing will probably be done between sessions once we have generated ideas between us. 

Ideally a session gives you time and space in which to think and to be yourself.

Creativity is an enjoyable and liberating process and although we don’t avoid the dark side of life we also focus on the light.   The skills you learn can be used between sessions and long afterwards.

  

A word about poetry

Those of us who work with poetry believe it can be a powerful and relevant force.  Both the reading and writing of poetry are creative acts and therefore transformational. It can help us to choose clarity over confusion and feel more powerful and focused.  It can offer us a fresh approach and new insights.  Poetry is a force to be reckoned with. 

“..the imaginative transformation of human life is the means by which we can most truly grasp and comprehend it”

Seamus Heaney - The Redress of Poetry

from Lies

 Jo Shapcott

 In reality, sheep are brave, enlightened

 and sassy. They are walking clouds

 and like clouds have forgotten

 how to jump. As lambs they knew.

 A

fter some years of running groups I am now focusing on working more with individuals.

I am a writer and complementary therapist working with creative writing and creative thinking to improve wellbeing.

For the past few years I have managed the springboard project for Ledbury Poetry Festival’s community programme; have had a long working association with Herefordshire Mind, Breast Cancer Haven in Hereford, and many other working partnerships.

I am a member of Lapidus, Arts and Health South West and The Poetry Society.

I practise at:

The Haven, 37 St Owen Street, Hereford, HR1 2JB

and

35 The Gresleys, Ross on Wye, HR9 5JN

Hourly rates - £35 Hereford   £30 Ross on Wye

Please get in touch if you'd like to know more. t 01989 563370  m.07779 083510

At the ancient pond

a frog plunges into

the sound of water

Basho (1644-1694)

(translator -  Sam Hamill)

A change of direction

As some of you already know I have decided to make some changes in the way I work. I have loved these last few years working with groups and meeting so many wonderful people but I now feel the need to regenerate. 

So from September I will be working with individuals - still offering creative writing and creative thinking as a way to personal development - but practising at home in Ross on Wye and in Hereford at the Haven building and elsewhere.


Please get in touch if you'd like to know more.

Sally

Summer 2011 

Creative Words @ the Haven July - Thoughts on Four

As this was a short four week series we got to thinking about the symbolism of the number four.  Our running themes emerged from T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets (just little snatches so our brains didn't explode); Seamus Heaney's Seeing Things (particularly the section called Squarings); Jo Shapcotts poems about quadrupeds - we all particularly enjoyed Lies which tell the Truth about Sheep. It's a joy. We also got swept away by the idea of rivers and the idea of opposites.  The picture below is of a rather drunken river god.  Part 3 of Four Quartets begins:  I don't know much about gods; but I think that the river is a strong brown god.

I brought in a variety of objects including a bell and dorje which symbolise (among other things) the male/female aspects of being. Rather nice to think that the voice of the feminine bell is the voice of Buddhah.
A couple of responses are shown below.


The Dorje and Bell

Pauline Apperley

Man makes his presence felt

The dorje shows he is the master

Muffled sound comes from her

He rants and she listens

He bursts into the room

She hovers in the doorway

Her bell-like voice is to be heard

He clangs above her.

  

His and Hers

Annie Booth

bell and dorje

cup and sword

yin and yang

feminine and male

key and yale

soft and hard

give and take

make or break

early or late

all one another

sister and brother

father and mother.

This is the beginning of Lies  by Jo Shapcott

 In reality, sheep are brave, enlightened

 and sassy. They are walking clouds

 and like clouds have forgotten

 how to jump. As lambs they knew.

So we can contemplate the idea that we knew a lot more useful stuff when we were young.

To end a quotation from the end of Four Quartets which has a satisfyingly oriental circularity.

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

A change of direction

As some of you already know I have decided to make some changes in the way I work. I have loved these last few years working with groups and meeting so many wonderful people but I now feel the need to regenerate. 

So from September 2011 I will be working with individuals - still offering creative writing and creative thinking as a way to personal development - but practising at home in Ross on Wye and in Hereford at the Haven building. I am offering the usual therapeutic hour and will tailor the sessions to the client's agenda.

I will also be offering appointments via phone and email if distance or travel is a problem. 

Side Lines, Colour and Winston Roeth - Last session 9th June

 

For our last session of this colourful series we focused on pink and got in touch with our frivolous side. As a special treat we also had CAKE and my idea of  heaven is probably a place where you get both poetry and cake eternally.  

The poems we read were Bullfinches by Patricia Pogson and Flamingo Watching by Kay Ryan. 

The writers also did a Show and Tell of pink objects brought from home which featured a giant bunny, a tiny faded lamb, and a beetroot cake supplied by the wonderfully creative Yvette who also made the quilt on display here for her little granddaughter.  It was a bright and exciting morning. 

I'd like to finish with a quotation from a blessing on the colour theme - it mentions a flock of colours and is very popular. For more by John O'Donohue see his website: http://www.johnodonohue.com 

from Beannacht

Celtic Blessing

by  John O'Donohue

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

  

Creative Words @ the Haven, Six Poets and A Green Thought

We focused on two poems by the wonderful Brian Patten this week - A Blade of Grass and Garden Lore.

His website gives samples of his poems and is well worth exploring:  www.brianpatten.co.uk

The theme of jewels cropped up again in Garden Lore which mentions the birthstone for each month of the year.  Maybe I should get some ...

Here is the opening stanza of the first poem -

A BLADE OF GRASS

Brian Patten   b. 1946

You ask for a poem.

I offer you a blade of grass.

You say it is not good enough.

You ask for a poem.

Here are some of the responses:  

Inspired by “A blade of Grass” by Brian Patten

 Green Poem

Dorothy Greenhalgh

They say that this is a poem that’s green

But I have seen them when

They are pale and dying

They are not at their best

But then, when green,

They are trying to live -

And I feel that they are trying

To stay with the rest.

A Gift of Nature - A Smile

Helen Crook

Alchemy of passion, genetics and love,

A connection made and united in a moment.

The lips that kissed then, murmur quietly now

Given without consequence; it is transferred.

Encouraging the expression not altered by time,

The infant smile, pure and unprejudiced. 

The Lawn’s Lament

Sue Davies

Oh no, here he comes again,

Why me?

Wouldn’t you have thought

He could find somewhere else to wee.

I am becoming shrivelled and brown

and there is nothing I can do.

My brothers and sisters around me

all feel the same way too.

Oh Ted, I know that

is your name;

for she calls you and asks if

you want to play a game.

Please leave me alone

and let me be,

Why, oh why, don’t you go

and find a tree.

Inspired by “Garden Lore” - Brian Patten
It starts:

Who will take care of this garden, who will nurture it?

'I will,' said January.

'I will anchor it to the earth with snowdrops.

I will give it my stone, the garnet.'

Twelve

Hilary Robinson

For Twinks who likes rhyme and rhythm

January

Game foxhounds sing in the short afternoons

Ice on black puddles crack loud with horse hooves.

Cold owls shriek too-whit too-whit too-whoo

Frogs sleep tightly under the frozen pool.

February

Green leaves uncurl in the dark roots of trees,

Snowdrops and primroses feel at their ease

Shrug their shoulders and begin to awake.

Ducks fly plaintively over murky lakes.

March

Rabbits and squirrels rush fast out in the sun

Hares spring up boldly and look for sex fun,

Boxing games, fists up, romps on the good earth -

Who’ll give up, belly flop and run off first?

April

Badgers climb out of their yuck winter's lair

Cuckoos torment and hide in thin air.

Scuttling hedgehogs dive wild across roads,

Fools beckon in shadows to crying toads.

May

Wifely, “Cast not a clout till May is out.”

Thrushes, sparrows, chaffinches, blackbirds shout,

“Our nests are built and our eggs are all laid.”

 But the cuckoo has come and made his raid.

June

Columbines dance to a slow fairy tune,

Roses smell so sweet in their fullest bloom

Longest day elderflowers shake in fear

Is it down, down, down the rest of the year?

July

Buzzards mew piercing the deep, deep blue sky

Ripe berries make chutney, jelly and pie,

Apples stored lovingly, hay in the lofts

Golden Rod, Poppies red, silky and soft.

August

Midges bite hard and horse flies are crazy,

Sun burns the skin and we all feel lazy.

Corn fields grow quickly and ripen daily

Wheat turns golden and then whitens palely

September

The big red moon wanes and harvests are done

Days grow shorter and weaker grows the sun.

Twittering swallows come and fly away

Swifts disappear, gone in a day.

October

The hunter moon looms and the winds grow chill

Grey shadows spread over the purple hill.

Cubbing begins and the horses grow fit

Wood is collected and fires are lit.

November

Fireworks bang, crash and light up the sky

Catherine wheels spinning and rockets fly high.

Frost etches glass panes and whitens brown grass,

Wild geese scream and excitedly pass.

December

Wrens and robins look wistful but still sing,

Carols are chanted and church bells we ring.

Christmas stars gleam in the wintry night

Mistletoe, holly, ivy, love and light.

Garden Magic

Hazel Pope

An hour a day at least

To keep the weeds at bay

And increase the production line by sowing seeds

Against the day when frost and rain

Change ephemeral summer veg

To sprouts and sprouting broccoli and kale.

So this is supposed to be a daily drudge.

Which I enjoy.  It's thinking time,

Observing time. I tidy edges with a spade,

Turn up a gem.  A shard of something made

So many years ago.  A blue chinese person with a fan.

Behind, a  bridge. A token tree- the pottery curves

A broad segment.  I try to imagine

A jug, a bowl, quite large.

This shard, a gem.