Picture This - Jocelyn Page 'Shadows Point East'

During my recent spell of ill health I assembled a portfolio of photographs, Still Life. I invited some high calibre poets to respond to these photographs for a project called Picture This. I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful work I have received. I also worked with photographer and film-maker, Craig Thomas, on a short film containing a selection of these images which you can enjoy below. I feel very lucky to know poet Jocelyn Page. I was overjoyed when she chose one of my more abstract photos to inspire her poem here. Her poetry quietly and confidently beckons me in, then wakes me up to seeing the world in a whole new light.

Jocelyn Page is an American poet living in South East London. Her pamphlet smithereens was published by the tall-lighthouse in 2010. She teaches at Goldsmiths College where she is working toward a PhD on the topics of inspiration and collaboration.

Shadows Point East By the time we get to camp and our unpacking, line setting horse staking, fast eating, fireside click-clacking is through - I finally get to the words, blazed in charred shadows in my head, by then the opposite of their brilliance, like the noon sun stamps itself in the deepest black on the backs of the eyes. So nothing I write tonight, dear, will come anywhere near the idea that I had, that I had to tell you this afternoon, out stalking the west.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9psPlFAEPFE&w=560&h=315]

Picture This - A F Harrold 'Just This'

During my recent spell of ill health I assembled a portfolio of images, Still Life. I invited some high calibre poets to respond to these photographs for a project called Picture This. I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful work I have received. I also worked with photographer and film-maker Craig Thomas on a short film containing a selection of these images. An empty chair has a poetry all its own. Today's poet, the highly esteemed A F Harrold, has written a touching and elegant piece that brought a tear to my eye when I first read it.

A.F. Harrold is an English poet who writes and performs for adults and children.

Just This

Autumn days seem longer when the low sun slinks,

before mists rise up and afternoon puts evening on.

There are spaces in them, crisp and airy where no bird sings,

which open simply into a long view of all that’s gone.

Picture This - Aisling Fahey 'Lock'

Since autumn of last year I have been unwell with chronic fatigue and have spent the majority of my time housebound. For someone who spent most of her days doing a hundred and one things (and now I realise a hundred too many) this has been a huge period of adjustment and not one I welcomed. As a writer and a photographer my creative expression has often given me stability in more fragile times. For the first few months of my illness I had little mental stamina and also suffered from 'brain fog'. My usual refuge of both writing and reading poetry was not available to me. I felt like I was stranded on a life raft with no sign of land. I finally had to learn to acquaint myself with stillness and silence. Previously my life had all been about movement and the constant preoccupation that I was not going fast enough. My fatigue put an emergency stop to all my frantic activity. In quieter moments I am grateful for this opportunity to stop and experience what being without doing actually feels like. Other times it is a hellish struggle and I mourn for the pleasure of being busy that, what is now, 'my old life' offered.

On better days I am able to pick up my camera and go in to the garden, or on short local walks. I have found the sublime beauty in repetition, something that I would have never encountered before. I have also began to enjoy getting really close to my subject matter, whether it be a dry twig in winther months or a brass hinge on the garden door. These forgotten details seem to say something about my current emotional and physical state. There is something very meditative about re-visiting the same subject matter and finding new ways to look at the familiar. I am learning that even when there appears to be no movement or change there is still transformation.

As the weeks passed I realised that I had created a portfolio of images on a theme. As any good hairdresser will tell you there is nothing like a good pun and so I entitled this portfolio 'Still Life'. I also worked with photographer and film-maker Craig Thomas on a short film containing a selection of these images. It was not long after I assembled the images in one place that I decided to invite some high calibre poets to respond to the images for a project called 'Picture This'.

The first poet to be featured is the inexhaustibly talented Aisling Fahey. Aisling has a way of telling the truth that breaks through the isolation of pain. I am honoured to have her take part.

Lock Perhaps you know where you are going, always have. Sceptics who call you lost don’t know that the ground is a map underneath your searching feet you will find your way.

Or perhaps this was all rushed - you left without a coat, keys in a heap on the floor, light catching dust particles through the slit in the curtain.

That is what makes me worry, that your compass is now a cross and you carry new destinations on your back like lead weight. You try to plan a route home, but the gravel gets caught underneath the heel of your shoe.