This was an impeccably planned session – a truly exquisite plan, which Lois and I were very proud of – however the session itself was something of a wreck. But it’s always been the way that workshops are subject to the vagaries of life – and vague is exactly what this one became. It was a hot, airless day so all around the table – Myra, Joan, Susie, Peggy and Pat – were drooping before we started. Pat in fact fell in and out of a doze. However we rallied a little and Susie made an interesting piece, a life fragment of a refugee, and Myra hit a good streak towards the end, conjuring a powerful poem about losing her sight.
The session was built around notions of containing memory – could you put your memories in a box? – what are both your memory-delights and fears? It was a derivative of a very well-known poem writing exercise, but with a twist – the tip from light to dark being the axis of the poem, the drop from heaven to hell. And the debate – can a memory be compartmentalised anyway, or is it a functioning part of the whole person?
We were ably assisted by Peter, who is always a pleasure to work with and has an excellent dry humour. We are always interested to see what his latest hair colour will be.
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