Lucky number

So, as I said last time, I’ve started a new arts space here in stitchopolis. It’s my new baby and I’m loving it. I’ve come to realize That the genesis of this venture is a massive step for me. For Once instead of saying ‘one day I will do that’ I’ve just got up and done it. It had made me so much more Confident in other areas of My Life and has left me way more appreciative of my friends and network. 

Yesterday I went to a street party being held round the corner from the unit. I knew so many people, all for different reasons- it was lovely. And me and my business were right there in the middle of it. Great. 

I also met someone who was struggling with life and just needed to offload and breathe again. I am still stressing on a daily basis but omg life is so much better than this time last year even. 

So I guess this post is to mark my recognition that I’ve come a LONG way in the lifetime of this blog (7years!!) and that means j can continue to go even further….cool, an adventure!! 

Now

I have a confession to make, I have another love in my life. I have been working on another venture and this weekend it took flight. I am now the founder of an arts space here in Stitchopolis. Can you believe it??  Check it out here

Hope you like!

on being counted

ok, how are we all today? the last day of 2016, a strange and momentous year in so many ways. I am mulling over the implications of the macro political and economic shifts, really I am, but lets face it, that’s a bit too high brow for my normal posts isn’t it? But I have to admit to a new mood of, if not sombreness, then definitely responsibility.

In other social fora I have been learning a lot from fellow PD people about tolerance, forgiveness and the importance of honesty when discussing the effects of PD on life, family and loved ones. I have also been learning about my responsibility to myself to be clear about what I need to do and have in order to manage this disease the best way I can. Sometimes the choices involved are hard but necessary. I have a long way to go on this but I have started on that path. Consequently expect to find some posts on PD in 2017, I am dropping the shield a little to show you what its really like in the tue hope that it may improve understanding a little.

I think this little blog has a place in the world of Parkinson’s advocacy. I just looked thru my stats and so far this, PollieMath and my artist site have attracted almost 10,000 visitors and 50,000 views. I have written over 1,000 posts (Phew!) and, when I tend the sites properly, I get decent enough traction. I will never be a tub thumper but I CAN write so that is how I will help.

I don’t want to dwell on the past. I never have. 2016 has been on the whole a wonderful year enriched with lovely friends and family, my massive Japanese adventure, increased presence as an artist and poetry published commercially too. Next year will rock too. Just you wait and see.

Tube

So I’m on a tube. Speeding from Baker Street to Waterloo. Ion the silver shiny jubilee line. 

This was my old commute down to Canary Wharf. Today I get off earlier but oh how much have I reacted to this trip? I feel such a sense of loss as I stand here avoiding tourist backpacks. This was my life. Big business, big numbers and big ideas. And although I know that if I was given a choice to return I wouldn’t, the point is I WASNT given a choice when I gave it up. It gave me up. 

And so I stand on the platform listening to New Order’s True Faith and feel a wave of emotion. A fricasee of feelings. Such sadness but underneath it…a tiny little pearl of resolution. 

I’ve been feeling lost  recently. No direction. But now I’m hoping that that little bit of grit in the smooth silky sadness will stop me from wallowing and slowly drowning. That hard edge of refusal to slide away was almost lost to me for a while there. I’m damned if I’m going down without a fight. I’ll hold onto this tiny thought and catch my breath. And then….onwards and upwards. Onwards and upwards.   

Silver spoon

I look for a silver spoon

To help the medicine go down 

The bitter taste sticks around

And reminds me that 

Life is not all sugar

It’s not so sweet at times.

But then, sugar isn’t really sweet

A history stained with tyranny and tears. 

Shielded by marketing and greed

But it fixes the rancid flavor of illness

Of incapacity

Of sloth.

The rotting smell of disappointment

Exhaustion 

And fear.

The spoon ladles out the syrup

Sticky, strong and thick. 

And drops it, streaming over the cracks 

Covering them fro a moment 

But not for ever. 

Arnold’s song, or total recall

How do you remember?
Cast your mind far behind to the past.
Is it taste, smell or touch
Which one gives you a rush?
Which one transports you through space and time?

Recognition is fickle,
And synapses crackle
With altered results every go.
Which version of truth
Is the one you produce
Is it the shiniest one that you show ?

Nostalgia is tinted and this we all know,
A production, a piece.
You’re the star.
And we love to embroider,
And will tend to avoid
Deep dark shadows that lurk
Far below.

So what is your favorite?
And Where do you go?
Is your view clear and truthful or skewed.
Do you need true perspective for your retrospective
To have value?
I don’t think you do.

For your choice can’t be wrong
Its for you, no one else
It’s the way your mind paints on its wall.
My wall’s covered in scribbles
All my thoughts
All my babbles.
Here it is
Opened up to you all

Every word every mark
Is collected and noted
And if Memories fade?
How to feel?
I’ll refer back to see
What has happened to me
And I’ll hope that my recall is real.

.

 

If. Or, Pollie writes a poem

A blank page is an opportunity.

It beckons

But I stall.

I’m shy, uncertain,

What if this is all?

All I can produce.

All I can get down.

Small and stuttered,

Slurred and slowed,

I’m starting to slow down.

What if I never find my voice

What if it’s gone from me?

Stealing into the shadows…

It’s a possibility.

We all have a blade,

A certain end ahead,

And Kipling got it right :

I just can’t lose my head.

I’ll keep on being stubborn

I’ll keep on saying ‘no,

it’s ok I’ll be fine’

Because I will be 

in my own time
.

I love my friends, my family

I know they want to help

But independence truly rocks

So help me help myself.

Step

Step

Lemmings throw themselves

Weeds drape

Beetles clamber

And eggs roll

The edge marks a start

A change you can’t change

A turn or a twist

A drop or a fall

A push

A shove

Nails drag as they cling

Some change is a good thing

Some

Step

Parsimony

I sometimes wonder whether

I spend my time wisely

Or whether I squander it on fripperies

Of action.

What is of best value

Trekking the contours of a newfound adventure

Unlike your feet bleed but your heart is full

Or

Listening to the still body echo

The tiny repeating call of my bones

And listening

Listening

And heeding it.

Respecting it.

Hating it. But

Bowing.

2 beers

90 photos

60 minutes

And counting.

All adds up

To enough?

I have no answer

No QED.

But, I have a thought. A verse. A mark.

And a life.

I will always have this life.

I rest my case.

Fall

image

<edited to remove the rubbish that dictating results in…stoopid iPhone>

It’s a funny thing, when you have an illness like Parkinson’s, you forget that other things can happen to you too. You think u r  armoured against other illnesses and injuries. Sadly, you are wrong.  The irony is, until a couple of days ago, I was actually getting to the point where I had forgotten, okay almost forgotten, but I actually had Parkinsons.

This was a development. A good one.

And  now? Well I feel like I’m back at the beginning of the board. I have slid down the snake. Why? Well I have an old injury to my neck and it has decided to kick in and make itself known. The result? I have been hobbling around the house for three days now  like a very bored and grumpy old lady. I am now getting to the feeling sorry for myself stage. I do not like this stage it is the worst one. I got some serious painkillers yesterday from the doctor and they work! Unfortunately, they also make you feel like a zombie.  Appropriate given the day I grant you but still not what I’m after.  The sun is shining outside and the leaves on the trees are the most beautiful colours.  I think I will leave this screen and go outside and make them rustle  with my feet.  Much more fun.

I have never seen a zombie doing that !