New review: The Physics of Imaginary Objects by Tina May Hall

Unexpected connections: wasps and love betrayed, barometric pressure and ovulation, neon flowers and a black hole. Hall’s debut collection proves string theory, at least in literary form…

I review The Physics of Imaginary Objects by Tina May Hall, here.

Tiny things 2012

I don’t make resolutions that involve deprivation. No point, I have zero will-power when it comes to roll-ups, cake or coffee, but because I don’t drink alcohol (at all), gave up chocolate last July, and just happen not to like biscuits, I don’t see any harm indulging in these (few) oral pleasures. It all balances out (My Rules).

One thing I like about living in the north is that people talk to each other – they say hello in shops, in the street, as you pass on the pavement. They chat on buses, in the doctor’s surgery, while waiting for trains. Not everyone, obviously – that would be mad, but enough to make you feel as though you live on a planet that has other living breathing humans on it. And I do like that. And no, you don’t get that down south – especially not in cities, especially not in London.

One thing I made a point of last year was saying hello and / or smiling at people I didn’t know. Especially old people, in particular grumpy-looking old people. Even weird people, the sort you’d probably cross the road to avoid. The challenge was to get them to smile, nod or say hello back, and mostly they did. It doesn’t bother me if they don’t but it gives me a lot of pleasure when they do. It’s only a little thing I know but we’re all in this sometimes-big-heap-of-shit called life together. Why can’t we be nicer, kinder to each other?

So my tiny resolution is to continue doing the same thing this year. That and writing more tiny things. I wrote a 63 word story the other day, one of the best things I’ve written so I’m beginning to think tiny things are the way to go. How about you?

Big Books

Big books rule! Well they did pre-Christmas. Or maybe it’s a northern thing. Out of all the big book readers I spotted on my trip south, this guy was hardcore, not only was he holding the largest book – it was hardback.

I didn’t spot anyone reading on the way back. The trains were so packed I doubt anyone managed to read anything bigger than the label on the guy in front’s jacket. Or maybe, like me, they’d had a Kindle for Christmas (wedged into a corner of the bag I had to sit on most of the way home).

The Kindle … ah. Where to start? Well a big thank you to my offspring (and girlfriends). I have to say that before I had one I’d never thought about getting one. I DO like shiny things, especially my Macbook and I wouldn’t say no to an iPhone, but a Kindle? Reading is a physical as well as a mental pleasure … I love the physicality of books, their weight, the feel of paper between my fingers, the aesthetics of the cover, the font… so what am I going to do with a Kindle?

For starters I downloaded loads of free ebook classics! Treasure Island, Zola’s The Flood, Fielding’s Tom Jones (a haunting from A level English Lit), Conrad’s Nostromo (O level), Villette (A level), Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, Jane Eyre, Oliver Twist, Grimm’s Fairy Stories and The Iliad. Not sure if I will ever read or re-read any of them but they’re there if I want to.

Then to play with the voucher (yes I had one of these for Christmas too!). Couldn’t decide whether to go with physical or virtual books so split the voucher (with a bit left over) between the two. I ended up downloading two virtual books: Lorrie Moore’s novel A Gate at the Stairs and the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3 (which I’d been wanting to read for 18 months). Finally I bought a hard copy of Tom Vowler’s The Method and other stories to add to my (physical) collection of short fiction.

I’ve discovered it’s much easier to read a Kindle than a real book in bed, which is where I do most of my reading. As my eyes are pretty rubbish, being able to alter the size of the type is such a simple yet brilliant thing to be able to do. Haven’t tried the text to speech thing yet … So, am I impressed? Yup. Pretty much.

Father Christmas

Pick of my photos from Christmas 2011. My stepdad, after supper on Christmas Eve.

Loose Wiring

We’ve set up a dedicated Loose Wiring website for our text and image project. All past and future posts will be located there.

 

Go See … Harris Open 2011

I don’t know who these guys are but I had to give them a wider audience. The group forms one of the exhibits at the current Harris Open 2011 titled Preston Artists in the Preston “Caf” (Artist: Steph Matthews). I think they’re brilliant. I really enjoy going to this (was biannual, now annual) show. It’s very democratic, open to all Preston artists and selected works include the shit hot, and the downright quirky. It’s well organised, properly displayed, a real pleasure to visit and is free and open to the public until 14 January 2012. Go and see.

Gales, tornadoes and entropy

[Notes from 30 Nov] A day of gales and tornados – ‘like something I’ve never seen before … and then it just stopped,’ said a man in Stockport. I’m feeling mortal, which is why at 02.30 I’m still up, or at least awake and been watching a couple of videos of two Turner Prize nominees, sculptor Martin Boyce and painter, George Shaw. I’ve not looked at Boyce’s work before.

His inspiration was a set of concrete trees made by French Modernist sculptors Joel and Jan Martel for the 1925 Paris Exposition and a reference point for the installation. On the video Boyce explains his creative process – shows how he moves from concrete to repeating patterns – from fallen concrete leaves to found letterforms – the process is so organic, each individual piece so light and gentle. I love his ideas, love the way that art can communicate things that words, fiction, cannot.

I liked George Shaw too – he’s very down to earth, comes from Coventry (the Midlands qualifying IMO for the southern most boundary of ‘The North’). He paints places from his childhood – tries to get into the mindset of how he saw places as a child – and in others, tries to communicate how he feels about it now – he says it’s like time travel. One painting was of a pub which was the focus of family life when he was a child – another is of the same location after the pub was pulled down. All the things that happened – the celebrations, funerals, christenings – gone. A lot of his work is about the end of things. He accepts that things have to have an end, that we’re all crumbling, moving in that direction. He sees what he’s doing as ‘painting the journey out of his life’. I liked that – a bit like dancing off the stage and I love the idea of writing my journey out of my life – makes sense of entropy – and so very positive.

[Image: Martin Boyce 'As Yet Untitled', painted steel, fabric 2010 via Tanya Bonakdar]

Not sure I can read the bottom line …

I was doing a bit of research for my upcoming visit to the Manchester Royal Eye Hospital and LOVE the signage. Not sure I can read the bottom line though (yeah yeah … ).