A New Poem

Rather than my usual rant, this post comes under the heading of a diary entry, or possibly shameless self-promotion! Hell, why else do I write this thing?

Whitman
The town of Bolton has a long and powerful connection to America's greatest poet, Walt Whitman. The museum even has Whitman's canary. It's a long story.
In a fit of synchronicitous timing I've had a whole Walt Whitman week. I've been reading about him, writing about him (he features in a forthcoming book, pluggity plug!) and last night I was part of the band who played some tunes for the University of Bolton's section of the Walt Whitman Weekend that's happening in Bolton.
I'm thinking of growing a huge white beard and fancying soldiers now!

Anyway.
I don't write enough poetry. I always feel like I'm doing too many other things to find the time and moving too fast for the inspiration to hit me.
So - on Wednesday evening I went to the starting event of the LRM's psychogeography festival (see the link at the side of the page). On the way back I bought some cider for my beloved and I to share. The thing is that alcohol, endorphins from a 10-mile cycle ride, and a head full of things to do aren't really conducive to a good night's sleep. I'm normally early-to-bed-early-to-rise; this time I collapsed at midnight and woke at 2:30am with weird dreams, reflux pains and an inability to get back to sleep.

Side note: For those who don't know, acid reflux is one of those joys of getting older - abuse your body at 20, pay for it at 40!

Since I had a headful of Whitman and couldn't sleep I decided to write about it and exorcise his spirit at the same time. To whit(!), I wrote a Whitman-inspired poem.
Derivative? Probably. A pale imitation? Certainly. But actually, I quite like it.
So here it is:

I am empty of sleep

Because too full of what is, and is, and will be

And that which is, which opens itself before me.

With all, and of all, and be all resounding

Excludes dream

Until thought and fullness overflowing force escape to ink and paper

And the fluttering, laughing, howling mind pinned,

Folded, forced into

Inadequate shapes of words.

Seán Fitton

May 2008

In other news:
If you can get to the Royal Exchange in Manchester before the end of June, please do so. There's an exhibition on which is part of the LRM's "Get Lost" psychogeography festival (yup, the link's at the side of this post!), which includes 5 paintings by me.
I'm amazed too.
I originally offered one, which is a kind of map crossed with a kind of sigil. The other four are naked cyclists which I painted for the I Bike MCR festival but which, for reasons not fully given, were never displayed. The LRM's organiser, leading light and generally very fabulous person, Morag asked if she could have them in an emergency. The emergency happened!

And finally. . .
World Naked Bike Ride is coming!
Manchester's leg (please excuse the pun!) will start by meeting at 6pm outside the Basement Café on Lever Street, on Friday the 13th June. It's "bare as you dare", which means you aren't expected to strip off completely if you don't want to, just be there and ride.

If you can't ride, please come to watch your local city's ride and support it. Here's a link to the world site where you can find your local ride and take the chance to show your botty in public.


In the middle of all this I'm getting married. I wonder if I've got the time!

Love,
Seán

Manchester Psychogeography

This was sent to me today by my extremely cool (and rather cute) friend Morag. I've thought about writing something on psychogeography but I couldn't possibly do it with as much eloquence as she can. So instead here's a cut and paste of the entire email:


The LRM recently thought about celebrating our first birthday but we decided to build a space rocket and play our melodica instead. It didn't feel like a birthday because we're still not quite sure we exist. But it's a year since the Accidental International Festival of Psychogeography, which is when we were given a name and started the first Sunday shenanigans (how long does something have to go on before it's a tradition?)

Our manifesto is disgracefully over due; we keep getting distracted by the beauty of flowers growing out of the side of buildings and the tragedy of commercialisation. It will appear one day, when you least expect it, but generally we like chaos more than rules.

We are becoming afraid that some people think psychogoegraphy is just for first Sundays or special occasions and one must be taught how to drift or heed expert directions. This is anathema to the LRM. Don't listen to us! We like DIY (but we're scared of power tools) and we never, ever want people to think we are custodians of some secret knowledge.

Symbols, maps and anniversaries matter because we invest them with power. The solstices have always been an important time for the LRM; we like to melt time and blur the boundaries between the worlds of myth and materialism. Last year we collaborated with The Shaping to dematerialise the gruesome Beetham Tower which for us represents much that is rotten within our glorious city but we won't dwell on past glories.

This solstice practicalities mean many LRM collaborators are spreading magick and mischief outside Mancunia but still we wanted to join together to celebrate both the sacred and profane so we politely ask you, whoever, whatever and wherever you are, to join us in a great experiment and help answer the eternal question 'but what is psychogeography?'

We invite you to play a game with us at a time and place of your choosing on 22nd December 2007. These are the rules for you to ignore:

1 Stop what you're doing and tap your heels together. Spin around if you feel like it. (the LRM accept no liability for any accidents that may occur due to over zealous spinning so please take care)
2 Head off in whichever direction takes your fancy and wander at will until you want to stop.
3 As you traverse, aim to discover something new and marvellous and look for something you have never seen, felt or listened to before (we bet there will be something)
4 Repeat as desired at intervals through out the day
5 Or don't. If you think this is pointless you may be right. But we think it will be fun and we can create something beautiful from it.
6 If you do have a solstice adventure please send us a few notes, observations, random words or pictures. We will weave them together into a virtual derive, and thus create a psychogeographical dot-to-dot linking freelance flanauers into a unique and amazing work of art (trust us, we will)

Friends and comrades, this Solstice reclaim your footsteps, invent your environment and discover your own psychogeography. We don't know what it is.

With glittery love and golden apples from

The Loiterers Resistance Movement

PS The LRM would like to thank everyone who has inspired, frustrated, bumped into, walked, talked and raised a glass with us this year, whether you consider yourself a loiterer or not. You have changed our course and bought new ideas, joy and mischief. We thank you all whole heartedly for this and hope to get lost with you again in the new year


I agree with every word.

Love,
Seán