Handsel Mondays

Millenium Music Festival

2009-02-27T08:38:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday, February 21st, I went along to Cardiff's Millenium stadium with some friends and we listened to a free performance by two bands. This was part of a 24-hour music festival which was funded by the Wellcome Trust and took place at venues all over the UK. From what I understood, the music from these venues would be recorded seperately and then played simultaneously to target the brain's neurons, combining music, art and science.

A solo acoustic act played about half a dozen songs which were funny but judging from the performer's attitude I'm still not sure if they were meant to be. He described one of songs as a reaction against a critic who said his songs were funny, yet the song lyrics were about killing that critic...

The next act were a three-man band (minus a member) who mumbled their lines, dropped instruments and were quite challenging to the ear. Nevertheless, the event provided a great atmosphere among the sixty-strong audience. Jaffa cakes were passed round (bonus!) and photos were taken and I certianly enjoyed the unique experience especially as it was in the stadium looked beautiful, lit up in the warm and waning afternoon sunshine.

Followed by a glass of wine in The Pen and Wig, we all had a great day out!

February's Fashion Week (or two)

2009-02-10T16:39:00.000-08:00

February has been a fantastic month for vintage fashion, from designer dresses to handmade hair slides, the recent fashion markets in Cardiff have offered a wide and varying array to suit all tastes.

On every first Sunday of the month, Milgi’s is host to the Boutique Night Market, which has a selection of kitsch stalls offering a variety of things, from handmade felt brooches to vintage jewellery and clothes too.

February’s market was held inside, due to the cold weather, so a legendary Milgi’s cocktail, a huge slice of cake or homemade pizza could be enjoyed as you walk around the stalls.

Being inside it is cramped, with stalls overflowing with jewellery and people constantly coming in and out, yet this adds to the warm and friendly atmosphere, where the stall holders offer explanations as to the origins of a garment or to the age of it.

One of the stall holders, Ceri Davis, said: “Tonight has been successful already. I’ve made £28.50 and all the stuff on my stall are my own clothes and accessories that I’ve just been hoarding in the attic for ages.

“I own a ridiculous amount and it was definitely time to do something with it!” she added.

I had already bought a black and silver sequinned top from her stall for £4 and was surprised to hear that it used to belong to her; most of the clothes on her rail seemed to be authentically vintage or new.

Another bargain I found was a silver brooch with orange jewels which was only £2.

A few of the jewellery stalls were quite expensive; the first stall had brooches on sale for about £10, but other stalls, such as Ceri’s, had much lower prices as they were her own goods.

If you have never visited Milgi’s put it as high priority on your to-do list.

It seems to be a unique social bar and lounge, offering unusual yet delicious food and drinks, with a Yurt outside where you can watch a film and recline on their armchairs and mattresses.

The Boutique Night Market is held at Milgi’s, City Road, on every first Sunday of the month and starts at 6pm. Admission is free.

In addition, February has also had the Blind Lemon Vintage Fashion Fair parade a vast array of fabulously eclectic clothes and jewellery at Cardiff City Hall on Sunday February 8.

This is my fashion highlight of the year, where dozens of stalls, both amateur and professional, combine to provide for every fashion style, taste and decade.

The stalls zig-zag across City Hall, creating pathways in between each other and directing the flow of fashionistas from one laden stall to the next.

Some sell vintage pearls or vintage jump-suits, others sell obviously second-hand (vintage is deliciously second-hand yet has character added to the item because of it, whereas second-hand does not have quite the same amount of vitality) items which are ideal for fancy dress parties.

In fact, one stall specialised in medieval fancy dress attire, while others specialised in cowboy-esque boots and waistcoats, 1940’s hat feathers or even 1980’s grandma-esque garments.

Ann, who has had a stall in City Hall five times now, was selling an eclectic mix of gold jewellery and costume jewellery,1960’s Polaroid sunglasses as well as some of her mother’s old accessorises and hats.

Ann said: “I’ve got most of my things from my mother who is a hoarder. She has so much stuff to shift as she has been collecting for 30 years, but now it’s time for her house to be cleared out, her things have come here.”

Like Milgi’s, some stalls are more expensive than others, with one stall selling exquisite handmade feathered and sequinned hair adornments for £35-£55.

They were truly worth every penny if you could afford it.

At the other end of the scale, one of the stalls had loads of bargains on display, with huge ornate and embellished rings priced at £4 at the most, earrings for £1 and jewellery-making components for only 50p so you could even make your own.

I could not resist such bargains and ended up spending £10 at this stall, purchasing three pairs of earrings, a hair pin and a huge ring that (ridiculously) is the width of three fingers.

Cardiff’s next Vintage Fashion Fair at City Hall is not until November, but it is a must-have date for your dairy and certainly something for all fashionistas to anticipate.

The Cardiff Vintage Fashion Fair is held at City Hall, in November and February. Admission is £4 or £3.50 with student identification. Alternatively, visit http://www.whatsmineisyours.com/ for an online version.

Hide Now by Glyn Maxwell

2009-02-09T14:51:00.000-08:00

As I've already said, I really like the poet William Blake but I do also love modernist and postmodernist poetry too. I'm really fascinated by Dada poetry, ever since I went beyond Surrealism and discovered the art movement Dada, which was quite revolutionary in 1916. Although, in retrospect, it does appear to be a transitional movement between Futurism and Surrealism, which effectively cannabalised it.

I have written my own Dada-inspired poems from Tristan Tzara's newspaper poem which describes how to make a Dada poem out of newspaper clippings. It's really fun to do and it's amazing how many poetical features, like assonance and alliteration, pop up even though the poem is created using the theory of chance. I haven't typed these poems up yet but when I do I will definately post them on Handsel.

I digress from what I meant to write about in this post but it is tenuously connected with the theme of poetry (quelle suprise!). As I enjoy postmodernism poetry a girl in my Creative Writing seminar gave me Glyn Maxwell's book, Hide Now, which is his ninth collection of poems, but I was quite disappointed by it.

By reading The Guardian's review, I obviously have a lot more to learn about poetry, or I do not appreciate it as I should do... for a more comprehensive and professional review visit www.guardian.co.uk/books/2008/nov/15/hide-now-glyn-maxwell, or for my own liitle review of it read the following! I did try not to be too damning as there were some redeeming features to a few of the poems:

Written with a dry and colloquial diction, Glyn Maxwell’s collection of poems in Hide Now are abundant with poetic characteristics.

Theses features both help and hinder his poems, which can make for a forced read, even for an admirer of poetry or perhaps because of this. The Independent praises his “brilliantly elaborate syntax and forms” but it is this very elaborateness that make his poems too convoluted to be read with ease. His narratives are intricate yet can appear superfluous, as if he is trying too hard to be complicated by making the many poetic features mean too many things. Powell’s Books have heralded Maxwell as ‘the most adept heir to the poetic legacies of W. H. Auden and Robert Frost,’ yet for true Auden and Frost aficionados Maxwell would be a definite disappointment.

Despite these negative comments, the poem 'A Play of the Word' demonstrates how Maxwell’s lyrical style can be enjoyable and shows his complex syntactical style to its full advantage. His technique becomes more comfortable, especially for poetical novices or those who like to read for pleasure more than for analytical aggravation, in his shorter poems. 'Love Songs from plays', 'It too remains' and 'All Things Bright' are much more pleasant and amusing. Perhaps this is because the poem can be read and the book can be put down again in a space of twenty seconds.

What the government has been gassing on about

2009-02-09T14:04:00.000-08:00

I was reading through some back-dated news online and looking at what the government had been doing since Brown has been PM when I stumbled across one particular article that caught my attention. It was about the government's proposals to cut down greenhouse gas emissions by 80% by 2050. Doesn't that seem to be a huge goal?, I thought. And the more I did think about it the more it seemed really ambitious, which is not a bad thing especially as it's about saving the planet bla bla but it also seemed as if the government may have set themselves yet another goal that they would not reach.

A couple weeks after this, I looked up a communications company profile and looked at available placements. The application form for their graduate placement scheme included a short essay on a variety of subjetcs and to my total amazement one of the subjects was government gas emissions!! I took this as a definate sign to apply and after some research this is the article I submitted:

By declaring that greenhouse gas emissions will be reduced by 80% in the next 41 years, the government has simultaneously declared what seems to be a very ambitious and improbable goal.

However, rather than focussing on the potential failure of this 80% target, although a substantial percentage will most likely be achieved, should not society be buoyed and encouraged by the mere suggestion of such an ambitious goal?

By increasing the previous 60% target does it not show how the government is attempting to tackle climate change seriously, as well as demonstrating a higher degree of reliance and faith in society to reach the proposed target, even if it does seem high?

With the next generation being born into a world preoccupied with the damaging future effects of global warming and climate change, they will certainly make the goal seem more attainable than in 2009, when the current ‘everyday man’ is perhaps having to make a determined effort to change and cut down on energy excesses.

Despite this theory, recent decisions made by the government only fail to make that target seem unattainable. For example, the aviation industry is hugely problematic regarding greenhouse emissions. On top of this, Heathrow’s third runway has been approved (albeit from a very narrow vote) by the same government that should be leading by example in their attempts to cut down on emissions that harm the atmosphere. Consequently, this decreases the feasibility of reaching the target.

The Independent has mentioned that the Conservatives have not ruled out expanding airports in the south-east. Comments like these, from a potential future government (realistically at some point between the next election and 2050), fail to raise enough hope to make the ambitious 80% goal attainable.

All Hail the Protected Badger

2009-02-09T13:26:00.000-08:00

From Winscott Barton healthy fields stretch on and on.
The colourful squares of blue flax and yellow rape
disappear with the distant moors on the horizon.
In the nineties it was not usual for farmers to grow
rapeseed for biodiesel and flax for fabric and dye,
but these paid government schemes make up the view
that used to be full with a flock of healthy Suffolks.

Eight years on and the scant compensation is spent,
On burying and cleaning and disinfecting, the farm
only just surviving, but with no money left for stock.

But what farm needs a flock with DEFRA’s[1] help?
Inspections reveal a rare bird in a tuft of grass
so they say we must, we really must have a plan
a DEFRA protection plan for that tuft! We must!
What’s that? Lots of bats? Well, it is a farm barn –
they can protect the bats? Why, we must do that!
And the badgers! Who cares about tuberculosis
and how their warrens ruin fields? We can’t afford
cattle anyway so let’s protect the damn badgers!

Eight years on the small farmer relies on paid acres
of rape, swedes and wildlife protection schemes,
but never a scheme to restore a farmer’s lost flock.

The millennium saw blistered mouths and jellied hearts
starve our two thousand black-faced Suffolk Ewes,
seven hundred lambs and a dozen rams. Then shot
and rotting for a week before being piled on a pyre
to burn and smoulder and stink by the kitchen window.
And eight years later we’ve spent the compensation,
not on new stock but on rules and badger protection.

[1] The Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

Home

2009-02-09T13:17:00.000-08:00

As I said, I have been improving on my attempts at poetry and my Creative Writing tutor really helped me with this poem, which I had posted back in December as The View from Winscott Barton. Actually, this poem has now split into the poem below, Home, and also All Hail the Protected Badger, which is definately influenced from my experiences growing up on the family farm in Devon. My tutor, John Freeman (all round good egg who has an enviable memory for poetry) advised me not to be so constrained by poetic conventions like rhyme schemes and pentameter, but to let the poem create itself naturally. By following his advice, I think this poem now shows the emotions that I had originally wanted to convey about my gorgeously scenic home environment.

Home

As I walk away from the warmth of the house in my new welly boots
the dull shine of the rubber is soon buffed by the Boxing Day dew.
I slide up the iced garden path and walk over hardened tractor ruts
without making an imprint in the concrete mud. It must be cold.

The frosted grass crunches like the frantic ripping of wrapping paper,
the sky is a new blue blanket with a half moon sleeping on it;
my nose is having a ‘dewdrop day’ as Dad would say when he sniffles,
yet my new scarf, mittens and boot socks insulate me, thank you Mum.

So I walk on, wrapped in Christmas warmth, my wellies wanting to skip
and skate on the fresh clean air that hugs and tugs at my woolly layers,
until I reach the farm’s frost-whitened fields, where every year I stand
and every year my mittened hands clasp Cannapark’s cold green gate.

Then my wet wellies stand on the clear ice covering the bottom rung
and the gate lowers an inch with the weight from yesterday’s feasting.
Dad trundles by on the tractor, shouting ‘Mind them hinges, maid!’
which makes me smile wide, and the cold clean air dries my bared teeth.

In front of me breaths mist the air as the cattle graze in Cannapark,
let out from the shed as a Christmas treat while the ground remains dry,
although the morning dew glistens on their broad rusty-red backs
as they stand against the sheltered northern hedge in single file.

In my head, Dad mumbles how he’ll have to tighten the hinges
as I clamber to sit on the top rung and breathe in the winter scene.
And as I look at the family land all around it takes my breath
and fills me with comfort to know that every year I can call this home.

A belated Happy New Year (apologies...)

2009-02-09T12:46:00.000-08:00

It may seem as if I have been ingoring my blog of late but I can defend my lack of posts by now uploading the work I have been concentrating on.

Some pieces of poetry that I have put on Handsel Mondays I have since taken off to develop and improve: a masterpiece is never finished! I have spent my Christmas break and January writing my essays and compiling a poetry portfolio for my degree, and it is this portfolio which now consists of these improved pieces of poetry - well, hopefully they're improved! So, the poems I initially disregarded, or were not wholly pleased with, have now been jiggled and fiddled for my portfolio but I have also spent my free time writing poems that were not aimed at my degree and I will be uploading both efforts. Have a look and hopefully they will tell you provoking stories with an uplifting atmosphere!

xxx

Oh yes, Happy New Year! I realise this is seriously belated... and I can only say that I haven't abandoned my blog as I have been keeping a daily paper version - yes, the traditional diary is back!

I've been writing in a diary for nearly every year of my life but in the last half a dozen years, when I have attempted keeping a dairy, I haven't been writing past the spring. This year will be different! I really want to jot down everything that happens in my final year of uni and especially what happens and how I am feeling when we all graduate from Cardiff in the summer. Scary stuff! But there is no way I can share the diary with my online blog - it's far too embaressing! Especially the late night praisings of Miss Barlow, after a few drinks and a fun night in our Union. Check out Barlow's blog at http://www.itwasallonestream.blogspot.com/.

Bute Park to be defaced by the Council

2008-12-05T16:00:00.000-08:00

Recently, I have been following the proposed plans that will change the aesthetics and beauty of Bute Park forever. I was initially allocated a Bute Park article to write for the student newspaper gair rhydd and this is what first sparked my interest. I have since written a couple more articles detailing the progress (or lack of) of the Bute Park protestors who are trying to save the park from being defaced. Below is a more detailed version of an article I have just written regarding this subject.

http://www.gairrhydd.com/ Issue 885 December 8 2008

Cardiff's Bute Park could be getting a controversial makeover which would cover up its peaceful grassy areas with noisy traffic.

The Council has proposed to build an access gate and bridge into the park which would be 9 metres wide to enable articulated lorries to pass each other, with a new and wider road continuing over the feeder canal and down into the park.

A promotional brochure created by the Council mentions that the current pedestrian paths that go through the park will be 'widened to 4 metres to accommodate larger vehicles.'

However, with no kerbed pavement, lorries would pass uncomfortably and even dangerously close to pedestrians. This would be particularly dangerous for the many teenagers that walk through the park with headphones covering up the noise of approaching vehicles.

This proposed path width ensures damage to tree roots is avoided although cyclists and wheelchairs may have to divert onto the grassed slopes. This could become problematic and very dangerous with wet weather.

The Planning Committee report accepts that the 'degree of public opposition to the scheme cannot be ignored and appeals to the Council to consider alternative methods of managing access to the park are noted.'

However, this only covers access to the park and not the controversy surrounding the proposed roadways and opening the park up to large lorries.

The plans have been criticised as ill-conceived, being too narrow to give clearance from lorries 2.5 metres wide but wide enough for cars to pass by, though they would have to drive on the sloping verge.

Despite this, the Committee's report states that 'there no longer remains any overt technical or professional objection to the proposal,' which seems to contradict the opinions of the opposing public who have already been acknowledged in the report.

Correspondence between myself and Professor Kevin Morgan, from Cardiff University's School of City and Regional Planning, brought to my attention The Future of Bute Park debate, which he will be hosting, and to which he is encouraging all members of the public to attend.

Dr Max Wallis, who was essential in providing the information about the Bute Park road proposals, will be attending along with keynote speakers from Cardiff Council and the Heritage Lottery Fund.

The debate will be held on Friday 12 December in Committee Room 1 of the Glamorgan Building, King Edward VII Avenue, and everyone who opposes the desecration of Bute Park should attend to voice their opinion.

A Gust of Wind by Jean-Francois Millet

2008-11-29T09:47:00.000-08:00

I seem to either get a really positive a reaction about this poem or the absolute opposite. Perhaps the writing style and tone needs to be explained and then the poem won't seem so forced or archaic, or as if I'm being a try-hard, just trying to copy a poet from the canon... although this is slightly true! However, this is only because of the task which the poem derived from.

Visiting the National Museum in Cardiff (it's free and I really recommend a visit. The collection of art is limited but they do have some of the best artsists - Millet, Rubens, Van Dyck, Cezanne - as as well as lesser known Welsh artists) I was stopped in my tracks by a huge, dark and intimidating landscape by Millet. I then wrote down everything that I could see and feel about this painting, A Gust of Wind, and later attepmted to make a story from the emotions which the painting had provoked me to feel. There is a real sense of the past in this painting and of wrath, so I combined both by writing in an older style of poetry and in particular the style of Blake. His books of mythology go into detail about wrath so I felt that adopting his rhyme scheme and stanza length for example, was wholly appropriate. Influenced by his collection of poems, Of Innocence and Experience, which I had written about for an essay the previous semester, I then went on to contrast the intimidating darkness and the wrath felt in the wind in the painting with what this wind could be perceived to be blowing and beating down upon: a small and bent man cowering in the wind but resolutely perservering and staying upright.

Many words used in this poem provide the semantics that relate to Blake, mythology and to his poems Of Innocence and Experience. I hope this explanation makes the poem better and more understandable. Although, because I like it a lot and I love Blake I don't really mind if there is still negative feedback. This one can be for me.

A Gust Of Wind by Jean-François Millet

Part 1

Wrath:

Now feel the angry winds of woe reek,
Wreak havoc high and No! meek
Man do not dare stand high, bend low,
Bend down, dark thunder crash shall thrash you.

Now past, you break her bark and sap her strength,
Trying to uproot Urizen with bodies trembling tense.
Unlike the South supreme never can you Act,
Ours are eternal senses, whack and crack, fell you flat!

And My knowledge grows not from millet seeds of poison,
A seven disease some of you have basely chosen,
Unlike the beasts that saw sight to bellow thunder
“Come and see” pulling the Lamb back from umbra.

Yet I still roar and claw at sins’ lust, like the first,
For more and improved and renewed, that thrusts
Forth my vengeance that vents from volatile caprice
Not your avarice - Lo! - to show lust must cease.

Now feel My angry winds of woe reek,
Wreak havoc higher, and No! meek
Men do not dare stand high but bend lower,
Bend down and My dark thunder crash will thrash you.

Part 2

Man:

Wrath attack and pummeling wind fists fight us
Your tumbrel tumultuous but No! not righteous,
You dare hide in hypocrisy as black clouds cover me
Cowering bent, not bowed, against the pounding row.

Rage is not the answer; you wage war against yourself,
Can’t you see man needs the immaterial from Material’s wealth?
Adopt stealth, brake brawl, rationale for another fall
Is futile while You need man but still excise self to gaol.

Long ago we danced to answer your base promises,
But now the vagabond’s alehouse alters past vistas
As Los siblings break blood with toxins in tonnes.
Reality’s tun teases to please; Hope’s failures fault is no ones.

Your pointless appeal makes vain the valley beyond death
As life’s light horizon glimmers ghostly shades of Lambeth.
Instead let the urban unite and influence not paralyse
So we can walk tall now, not wait until man dies.

So wrath can attack and pummeling wind fists can fight us
With tumbrel tumultuous but No! never righteous,
Who scares to hide in hypocrisy as black clouds cover me
Cowering briefly bent, never bowed, in a pounding row.

Eleanor Joslin

she makes me feel bitter

2008-11-29T09:45:00.000-08:00

And someone suddenly goes, goes gravewards
Causing tears and smiles to turn downwards,
People unite and the past is then praised
Their memories of old ease the malaise.
And then she went to Heaven awaywards
But looking back at the tears afterwards,
At the Psalm I read and the sad smile raised
For the family, now it all seems so staged,
Though only her will revealed her real self:
An unkind woman hiding behind ill health.

Eighteen months ago my old grandma died,
I’m glad she expired undignified.
I should love her? It’s now too hard to try,
I can’t even like her and hate how I cried.

Eleanor Joslin.

Just a Smile

2008-11-29T09:44:00.000-08:00

She doesn’t see herself
Standing still
With the wet wind blowing
Burnt orange leaves
Around her heels.

She watches a barber-cut head in the crowd, chocolate smooth.
And then those blue eyes flash back
And find her with a tentative smile with dimples but no white teeth.
And then she sees smooth and brown again
Watching his head in the crowd bob away.

And this was enough
So she walks away too.

Eleanor Joslin.

For Norman

2008-11-29T09:42:00.000-08:00

I had to fetch some logs for Mummy
on my way to the woodhouse I saw a bat
I’d only seen a real bat before on telly
This one was sitting by the stinky drain
I picked him up and held him in both hands
his wing hung down like an old nana skin
he hissed to me then I hissed hi back to him
then he hissed to me his name was Norman

me and Norman went to show him to Mum
I said Mum this is Norman but she screamed
she jumped onto a chair and I think she swore
thats naughty though so maybe I made that up
she did jump up onto her chair though
then she shouted at Norman and then at me
I said she didnt much like Norman
but she said she didnt much like Vernon

me and Norman went back to his drain
he hissed to me he didnt like Mum either
you mustnt say that so I told him off
I tapped his wing but Id forgot it was broke
he hissed to me it was definitely broke
I put him down and Tarka sniffed him
I put her water bowl over him to be safe

inside I said Daddy would you be a vet
Mum said no cos vets dont help Vernon
I said hes called Norman and hes my friend
then Mum said Dad would fix the flying rat
I said to Dad where Normans home was
Mum said it was way passed my bedtime

out the window I waved nunight to Norman
Daddy said he would play vet round the back
when he came back hed straighted Normans wing
I knew cos he didnt carry Norman now
he was carrying a rolling pin

Handsel Mondays

2008-11-29T08:35:00.000-08:00

Handsel Monday:

The first Monday in the New Year.

This is an old Scottish festival, before the nineteenth century the main midwinter celebration — Christmas was considered by Calvinists to be heathen and Hogmanay hadn’t come into fashion. In The Eskdale Herd-boy (“a Scottish tale for the instruction and amusement of young persons”) by Martha Blackford, published in 1819, appears: “‘Sir,’ said John, as he walked along, ‘do you think Mr Laurie will give me a holiday on Handsel Monday?’ (the first Monday in the year, and the only holiday the Scottish peasantry ever allow themselves, except, perhaps, in the case of a wedding).”

It was in particular a day for giving presents and that’s where the name comes from. Handsel (or hansel, or even handsell) is a Middle English word for luck or a good omen that comes from Old Norse. It became the name for a gift given on any special occasion, such as taking on a new job or beginning some enterprise, or for earnest money — a down payment or a first instalment.

One particular situation in which the term was used, which many subscribers have mentioned, was that of putting a coin of small value as a good-luck charm in a handbag or purse given as a present. The superstition or tradition is widespread, but only in Scotland was it commonly called a handsel.

From http://www.worldwidewords.org

I have to clear up a few things now. Number one is that I havn't christened my new shiney blog Handsel Mondays after the Scottish meaning. I certainly don't want to offend any Scots, it's just that I'm very interested in Old Norse and Old English, archiac language in general really, so the meaning I prefer from worldwidewords is the explanation in the second paragraph.

I may just point out here (I should say will and not may really) that Andrew Murray has made a negative impression upon me regarding Scots. He openly didn't support England during the 2006 FIFA World Cup and this greatly annoyed me at the time and has stayed with me. However, I do know that he is just one Scot and does not (hopefully) represent all Scots, so this angst is directed more towards Murray than Scotland, although the two are inextricably linked. I have also always wanted to visit the beautiful Scottish scenery so disregarding the Scottish derivation of Handsel Mondays is certainly not aimed against Scots. Phew, glad I got that out the way!

The Middle English meaning is quite appropriate for this ol' blog venture. I certainly hope it will bring me good luck and prove to be a very good omen for my creative outlet. In addition, as Christmas is only a few weeks away the present-giving aspect on a Handsel Monday seems to be very appropriate for this festive time of year! Happy Handsels!!