An elegant sufficiency

Friday, February 22, 2008

From where?

Just when I said I'm not a pack rat, I go following trails around the blogs I read and find quite a few entries about this creative writing project.

I am not a writer, preferring to express my creativity in colour and texture rather than words. But I did a short writing project with a very talented tutor last year and feel more confident to try these things out than I did.

I have found reading the many versions of this absolutely compelling and feel it's only fair to share mine in return. If you have a go yourself, perhaps you'd like to share, too? I was inspired by reading Terry's blog which led me to other blogs by Suze by Meggie, and Mary who credit Molly with the suggestion in the first place. I like the way that not everyone has felt compelled to stick to the straight line but take a more convoluted route in some cases.
Me, I can only follow instructions in such things, for the time being, anyway.

I am from a candlewick bedspread, from Omo, bedtime drinks made in a Horlicks Mixer with TT milk with a green top. From the Hull Daily Mail and the green Sports News on Saturdays.

I am from the terrace called an Avenue, small and cosy for three, and never thought about where Clovelly really was.

I am from the white rose, from bowls of hyacinths under the bed in November and pansies, brought home on our bikes from the place under the railway bridge.

I am from Hornsea on a Sunday and a new dress on a Friday, from you Ernie, and Popeye and Courtney.

I am from save it for best and do it gladly or don’t bother. From birds flit people remove.

From please be careful and don’t go on the road and from more than Soft Joe.

I am from St Johns, Newland, Brownies Church Parade, from Beverley Road and the Avenues and a quick swing in Pearson Park on the way to my Nan’s on a Saturday afternoon. From Janet and John and Enid Blyton, Noddy and Sooty and Sweep.

I'm from the East Riding, the flat fields of Holderness, the City of Kingston upon Hull, Yorkshire pudding and haddock and chips.

From staying up late to watch Z Cars, from instructions not to play on the bomb damage and get dirty and getting a smack from Mrs Dosser on account of my knitting.

I am from little bundles of old birthday cards, small treasures and everything I ever did kept in a drawer forever.



  • Ah. Lovely.

    By Blogger Terry Grant, at 3:54 pm  

  • its great I have not written mine yet, heres some more information
    I heard about a poem written by George Ella Lyons. She is an author and poet and her poem, Where I'm From, begins in this way: "I am from clothespins, from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride. I am from the dirt under the black porch. (Black, glistening it tasted like beets.)" Each of us is from a place that is more than a dot on the map. Every experience that we can recall has left its mark on who we are.

    By Blogger janilizi, at 5:58 pm  

  • Gill, That's wonderful. Well done you. I have enjoyed reading the others you pointed to as well.
    If that is a picture of you in your backyard... it looks pretty much as I remember ours too!

    By Blogger Dorothy Gibbs, at 3:32 pm  

  • Oh that was lovely!

    Sooty and Sweep ... ah, the memories.

    ps. thanks for the link to my blog

    By Blogger Suse, at 11:04 am  

  • Gill, that was wonderful - so poignant. Thank you!

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 4:20 pm  

  • Beautiful.

    By Blogger Seahorse, at 10:18 pm  

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