Blog Post 13 - A Five-Day Permission To Retreat And Nourish the Imagination

Its that five days of grace that some of us choose between Christmas and New Year and maybe some have forced upon us. A collective pause between the past and the future for a large number of people. Of course the world still turns with those that keep things going on our behalf, and those just 'getting through it'.

For many of us though unlike the staggering of summer holidays, this pause is different  perhaps because we know that others are experiencing it too. Its the one time of year when you can imagine what the vast majority of the population will be doing, certainly between 12 -8 on Christmas day. We know that many people will be surrounded by turkey, chocolates, crackers, silly hats, charades and new socks. This ubiquitous homing instinct in sharp contrast to those left out, picked up by organisations like Crisis who promise a hot meal, a hair cut and a new set of clothes. The  connections and the distances between people more keenly felt.

Its hard to do much work anyway in the pause but the exchange of emails and the pressures of deadlines do ease thankfully. Its a wonderful excuse to retreat into new books and scoff leftovers in front of a film you've wanted to see for a year.In spite of the resuming of January speed and demanded productivity looming ahead along with diets and frugality, many of us can give ourselves permission to be in the present moment for this short period, at least for a couple of these days. My friend Ria wrote a status on her Facebook page the other day

'Reading and snoozing and vice versa. What a perfect, perfect day!'    Kinda said it really.

For almost two years I faithfully got up early every day to write my blog post.There seemed a lot to write about. Its eased off a bit now. It was a ritual that I relished. It reflected a huge shift in my life, from one way of being and living to another. From almost thirty years in one space at Arc to a root and branch transformation into the life I now live. From a way of being that appeared to have a predictable trajectory through the rites of passage and beyond, the comfort of a feeling of familiarity and belonging to the now previously unrecognisable interior and exterior universes. 

Of course that sense of security is ultimately an illusion  - an attempt to steady the unrelenting flow of things. Nothing brought this closer to home to me than the recent death of my friend and colleague Joss. The presence of his absence is  palpable, not least in the many emails and texts I still need to refer to as eery instructions on the execution of his company's remaining work. His voice mails still fresh from only a few weeks ago.  An honour to caretake with Jules and Rachel, but with a certain responsibility to ensure its safe passage on Joss' behalf. It wasn't in his narrative nor mine - this thing - his so soon leaving. 

I really love this time for reflection and imagination. The pause that allows free reign to surrender to the butterflies of ideas that pop up unexpectedly into my head, demanding at least a little attention and consideration. Some are frankly very fragile and unlikely to ever be more than chrysalises, whilst others give me a rush of excitement and energy - that they will almost certainly manifest themselves one way or another before the year is out. Often this is simply in the act of sharing them with another person or two. I love the way an inkling of an idea can be shared, grow and spark a hundred others when the creative juices get going with the right others. I guess that's been one of the joys in what I cannot deny has been the scariest two years of my life.

Grace and Phoebe-
 Photo by their talented cousin Abigail Oliver

Starting a creative enterprise from scratch again after having done so 30 years ago with Arc is either an act of madness or faith, or maybe both. When the invisible promises perhaps to never become visible you have to hold on with gritted teeth to the knowledge that life is ever in ebb and flow and as Richard Keyes says in his poem 'Hokusai Says' - let life live through you. Easier said than done. And yet I am getting the hang of that. And I have some dear friends who are particularly skilled at this. I have always found it in the rehearsal room, where collective energy and creativity give rise to the most unexpected delights, but now its a very vibrant and conscious awareness and surrender to the adventure. Letting go of a certain control freakery from having led an organisation for a long time is refreshing in so many ways. Old rules don't apply any more, and the invitation to create has been stronger than ever and the encouragement from others at times breathtaking.

I am inspired by family, old friends and new

Nan and Edgar leave their mark

who believe in the art of the possible. So on Christmas day for the first time in my life I wasn't one of those sitting at the Christmas dinner table. It was my first Christmas day spent on my own with my mum and dad since I was two years old (imagine that!). We crept into the Boathouse cafe and played over mince pies, scratchy 78's and a cuppa.  Their belief in the possibility of the adventure was wonderful, funny and playful. They signed my ever-growing tablecloth of names, often adorned with quirky little comments. It felt like we stepped outside our own conventions - it was fun and great credit to the character and ongoing vitality of my parents.

And yet again on another of my days of grace this week, I sat with three people in the candlelit soulfulness of the Boathouse cafe, aware of the silence of the sleeping offices. Some of you may remember the talented young composer, Iqra Zamen who played her own composition at the launch of the Boathouse in October? Well she visited, as she sometimes does to play the piano. Alongside her and a plate of mince pies and lemon madeira cake three of us gathered. A motley crew indeed. One -  the anonymous commissioner of a new composition by Iqra for the 2015 50th anniversary of Barking and Dagenham which I am delighted to be part of  - and the other - Naz, a new friend I met and got talking to in the Red Cross Charity shop last month. 

THERE"S ALWAYS A PLACE TO GO
 Miro Tomarkin http://www.saatchiart.com/mirotomarkin

We found ourselves together at the BH to talk about how we could support Iqra in her development as a talented emerging composer and pianist. She played some Eric Satie and we listened to her rough draft of the composition which she says is inspired by the movement of the water of the river, and the graves in St Margaret's churchyard. We talked about grandmothers, pianos, Lahore and school, ate a few more biscuits and went home.

And then there is Miro - a wonderful painter and Cultural Connector for Creative Barking and Dagenham who pitched up with the gift of  one off print of the above painting to my surprise and delight!  MIRO will become the art curator for our galleries in the new year as well as mounting his own show in March. He has a great garden too, and I woke up in the early hours of boxing day inspired to make a garden in the boat on the terrace of the Boathouse Cafe. Exploring planted boats produced many imaginative examples - and the conversation has begun with Kathy Mason, a local grower of organic herbs and vegetables, and with Miro about making a cottage garden in a boat. I like the simplicity of that, and its certainly one of the 'retreat' ideas that is achievable next spring. 

That's it really. A starting from scratch again, learning from the love and joy of the years at Arc and ready to pick up the pace when I need to shortly. But before then, two more days in retreat and nourishment of the imagination. Thanks to those who are sharing these present moments with me.

Wishing you a joyful, creative and surprising New Year. 

T' arrah for now.