It’s been a while. Off doing other things, pausing a while, all sorts of vague, platitudinous excuse-y stuff. Time to ramp it up a little.
The following was scribbled in a poetry workshop that happened in 2003. The event was sanctioned by my then agency, DDB London, and run by the wonderful Paul Feldwick. We spent three days in Buxted Park, a hotel combining extraordinary beauty with Fawlty Towers chaos. I loved it.
We were encouraged to think about the idea of freedom to fail. Ahh, I thought…
UPS AND DOWNS I’d rather fall When aiming high Than die Not having tried at all. I’d rather, falling, Know beneath Await no shredding, vicious teeth. I’d rather fall However fast And know my vertigo Outcast. Not that falling should be bliss But if you never fall Get this: Ups without downs Aren’t ups at all They make the landscape Empty. Small.