Deborah has spent the last couple of months on a 'Poetic' tour of America, and has touched back in the UK this week. Here are a couple of her travel blogs that she has volunteered for creative writing inspiration...
Just got back from a weekend inLondon. I normally drive because there’s a car-load, it’s cheaper, quicker, goes when you want to go, stops when you want to stop… this time I took the coach. Earphones in, up high, looking down at the view that usually races past at my shoulder, no yelling at Beemers and Mercs for cutting me up on the motorway, no decisions about which route to take – just get on, sit and get off when it stops.
I saw different things, thought different thoughts, remembered things I didn’t even know I’d forgotten. I wrote poems and made notes.
So here’s my challenge- change your route slightly, change your mode of transport. If you’re going somewhere and you’re not in tooo much of a rush, even if it’s to work/college/corner shop – if you normally walk, bike it, if you drive, bus it, get a lift, skateboard, roller blades? I guarantee your brain will find new thoughts which you can turn into writing.
I have so many great stories to tell but I do not have the time to write them … I have been writing poetry too though so I thought I would put up a poem I wrote here in Homestead, Florida about traveling alone and how it can feel when it can feel like so many people you love and want to share these experiences with are far away …
Here, there are thousands of Orchids growing.
Too expensive for any one we know to buy.
And even if we saved the money.
I wouldn’t know how to ask, unhook or pay.
Their roots are wrapped round thigh-sized rocks
and hung from the ceiling of a green house
refracting the Floridian sun like a disco ball.
I stand at the entrance and watch my toes
catch escapee droplets of hose water.
There are sprinklers in the roof
creating a fog of rain over the endless
rows of suspended Slipper, Boat, Moth,
Vanilla and Calypso Orchids balancing
on their rocks hung with wire.
There are pebbled pathways between the rows.
Where two people might
stand one day or never …
still as the orchids. Only moving
to quiver from the man made rain
tripping over their skin like hands.
The water dissolving their pockets, money, travelers cheques
and through her camera hanging from his wrist.
They might consider staying there forever.
To keep the air running away from rust.
Her nose might redden.
A droplet of snot might fall
like the outline of a laugh.
No pictures will need to be taken
even if they could be.
Even though dementia’s in her family.
Maybe they’ll overhear about someone giving
away seeds like bottles of Poweraid
Where the rain is cold and real as homelessness.
Maybe they will reconsider
or time or life
for Slipper, Boat, Moth,
Vanilla or Calypso …
I try to take pictures of the water falling.
In and around the space where they might stand.
Over the leaves, the petals, the rocks.
Point my camera up, down, from outside and in.
Zoom closer and away.
This camera cost £300 … I’ve never spent that much on anything.
But maybe I should of bought the Single Lens Reflex
camera you suggested. Maybe I should have found
something that could take this to you,
something that could capture this like
to learn how
to wrap our roots
around each other
You can next see Deborah 'Debris' Stevenson at 'Vocals and Verses' Valentine's showcase takes place in prestigious 'Proud' Camden, London. 12th February. £8 before 8:30pm. £10 thereafter.
Article by Deborah (Creative Writing) / 24th January 2012