Easing in slowly.....get back into the harness

I rarely throw myself into something that means a lot to me without thought, fear and meticulous planning and so it is with the degree. I wish I could. I wish I was one of those people that could walk to the edge of the metaphoric cliff and with only a glance about to smell the air and feel the light on my skin throw myself over. But I am not.

So the folder for Creative Writing 1 : Art of Poetry has been delivered and the first few pages have been read. The tutor has contacted and been replied to, Lesley Mountain - a former OCA student which is a comfort.

Last night I settled down at my desk, closed the blinds to the outside world, still light at this time of the year, and began to read. Befoe I knew it I had my nose pressed into the first exercise - do something with your eyes closed that you would normally have your eyes open for, observe it and then write down the experience. Even before I recognized what I was doing I pulled a sheet of white paper from my printer and took up a soft-tipped pen, closed my eyes and began to write.

It is something I have never done with my eyes closed - why would you? It seemed the most natural thing in the world. Walking round my office with my eyes closed was out of the question - I regularly walk around my house in the dark - insomnia's a bitch! So I sat with my head down and wrote what I felt and thought.

It was interesting. Strange and genuinely first time experience. I wrote it up in my notebook and put it aside; a short leap into the course and then a step back.

Tonight, I have done the next exercise; picking up an object and writing how it felt while exploring it with my eyes closed. I chose a bookmark, made of Tibetan silver, obsidian stones and hung with a small chain. I am a control freak (family and partner can attest to this) so getting someone else to chose the object was not an option. The strangeness of the object, something I carry with me everyday, was it's warmth; I expected it to be cold, and rough to the touch. At the moment I moved my fingers over it, it warmed, it's edges rounded, it transformed from the expected to what it was....

Maybe not being comfortable with poetry - I have been known to describe it as a "straight jacket" - will be a genuine exploration for me.

Luckily I have my guide and my senses; better carry my expectations lightly.....