creativity

Other artists inspire me

Photo: my husband and I as Slash & Axl at our New Years Eve party 20 years ago. The first and only time I’ve ever worn white jeans.

I wonder if W. Axl Rose is a baker.

It’s a delightfully idiosyncratic thought: sitting down to a slice of sponge prepared by the lead singer of Gunners. You know it would be perfect. He’s a massive perfectionist. I can relate.

Wonder what his house is like. Is it a man-cave drug den like Jesse’s pad in Breaking Bad or does he have designer décor and mid-century modern furniture? Again, the latter thought amuses.

Last of the Giants by Mick Wall was a great read. I enjoy a good rock biog and I have read an embarrassing amount of them. From that Sugarman Doors romp (required reading when I was in high school), the whole encyclopedia of England’s Dreaming (don’t bother, yawn! No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs is waaay better), The Dirt (a winner), Lemmy, Viv Albertine, Steven Tyler (disappointing due to lack of dirt), Kim Gordon, Slash, and many others along the way.

Giants didn’t delve into the home stylings of the band but it did cover a lot of what I wanted to know. However it also didn’t explain what happened to turn Axl, this mysterious, capricious, troubled genius figure*, from grumpy recluse to diligent performer in his 50s. That said, I’m all for hearing about people finding themselves in later life and I think it often does take that long.

When I was baking my first New York Cheesecake this week (I enjoy baking but this was my first NYC, I also made a more-disastrous cheesecake for Xmas day, which we won’t speak of) the thought just popped into my head about Axl. I mean we’ve all watched Bake Off and thoroughly enjoyed that. And the level of detail required, but the almost-instant payoff you get: it’s right on that skill-satisfaction spectrum to a perfectionist type. Especially a hedonist perfectionist. Again, I can relate.

A bit like sand sculptures, you make it as well as you can but it’s for a good time not a long time. And you’re already getting ideas for the next one while you do it. Hello Chinese Democracy?

Anyway, I’m sure I can look this up and I’ll feel peeved but excited if I see Axl’s got a whole cake decorating show on HBO or something that I never knew about (I would’ve heard right?) While Nikki Sixx is doing motorbikes, recovery and tattoos, maybe Axl’s making sugar swirls and meringue? Or perhaps he’s more of a souffle man. Now that takes precision.

As a slapdash hedonistic perfectionist, this where I converge from Axl.

Perhaps that’s why he’s a millionaire, multiplatinum-album selling artist and I still haven’t completed my novel.

[* Of course Axl, and unfortunately most of the male rock stars I admire/d, have almost to a man been accused multiple times of sexual assault and domestic violence which I 100% do not condone and in fact hate. See Roxanne Gay’s Bad Feminist for a far more articulate explanation of how/why I’m still into them. I should say that I have no sexual assault accusations against me, so in this respect, I’m winning – I’d like to write at some point about the notion of the tortured artist vs. the normal person and maybe that’s why I’m not mega successful (or don’t see myself as such) and can we please have better templates and stereotypes for ‘true artists’ because surely you don’t have to be a monster and sacrifice all to achieve your art, but that’s a whole different piece.]

Here’s to 2024, more creativity and getting as close to perfect as possible but still getting it DONE and moving forward. Cheers Axl, hope you’re having a good one.

I love comments, please write to me.

 

Photo: my husband and I as Slash & Axl at our New Years Eve party 20 years ago. The first and only time I’ve ever worn white jeans.

Sirens – spoken word

 

The things we can’t say

but do

the way

I’m thinking about you

but I know

it’s not good

to be stood

on a precipice

or at the edge of a dark wood

and the sirens call me

longing

pining

to jump

into their entwining arms

“Fuck it all up”

they sing in whispery cries

How will you know

if you don’t try?

Might get

your heart’s desire…

It’s all fake

a sham

I can’t make

any argument stand

and yet

that tickle

of breath

of possible

mischief

is the flicker I need

to continue

this speed

fuel

for my self-stoked flame

burning through my days

when my heart’s on the wane

it’s lame

but I need something to blame

or just

keep me sane

 

This is my latest spoken-word experiment – thanks to everyone who has offered support, advice, feedback and coaching. Especially those of you who have gone above and beyond – you know who you are! 🙂

 

Soundcloud link if you can’t see it above: https://soundcloud.com/user-808707280/sirens

 

 

 

Saturday Sonnet

Lausanne marina

Bumping the edge of creativity

A boat in a marina

Rocking, chocking ‘gainst the jetty

Heaving, scrapes my lame patina.

Raw below the watermark

Those bits that can’t be altered

Weak spots patched and caulked but dark

Fearing ‘not enough’, I falter.

Should I haul to higher masts

Or try to slip the tethers?

Open water makes more tasks

In work, in life, as ever.

So contain’d by shoreline-cage,

I sculpt water; think of tidal waves

 

 

Today’s National/Global Poetry Writing Month prompt/challenge was to write a sonnet. A sonnet is quite a tricky form and I’m not sure I’ve really nailed it (note to self: write more sonnets). This was something I wanted to write about so I jammed it into this form. Then again, the prompt also talks about how the main point is to “keep your poem tight, not rangy, and to use the shorter confines of the form to fuel the poem’s energy. As Wordsworth put it, in a very formal sonnet indeed, “Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room.”” So maybe I’ve managed that, at least.