Archive for poetic prose

Life stories..Looking For Pearls update…

Posted in Autobiography, Biography, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , on November 14, 2016 by kathydasilva

 

It’s that time of year where nostalgia can grab you as the Christmas seasonal fanfair begins. But, I am in the middle of writing, the memoire/fictionalized version of my life story. I am feeling a tad freer from changing names deliberately, so that while the book will of course go public and be available for sale hopefully I will save my relatives from invasive problematical interest, or potential interest in the future. I am anticipating, this will feel my best work, because essential to biography or autobiography is some honest recounting of events. I was becoming very focused on loss recently, and also have started the ‘novel’ from a different time point, than originally planned. It looks a bit more logical though to go backward from a recent event that was momentous or devastating or life changing at the very least. An lo, springs an honesty, from the many things observed, and funerals, as well as weddings, bring family members together. I am now more hopeful about finishing this one sooner. I had to have a little time away from just typing up a story line, as Driftwood, also became an emotional burden, in part because I am an artist, and events are still current politically, and now even more so, the recent American elections are showing the turmoil and uncertainty of our age. So back to Looking For Pearls, and my fight to create something with some of the poetry side of me still coming through. I always think writing takes something of the energy of the interior spirit of a person as you go along, so that when you finish, you do feel like it is a kind of intellectual birth moment. I am feeling helped along this week, by staying home a bit, with the heating on, thankfully. Here’s  a little extract of Looking For Pearls, it is loaded with emotional ups and downs as a book, but, my artschool years provide quite an interesting, backdrop to London, and the art scene in general. In the extract, I am harking back to my mother’s funeral. (All names are changed to protect identity).

There was tension within the family group and then her grandson, Martin, had told us he could see her, first at the church kneeling at the side alter, and then when we met at the wake. A teenager with second sight, though I am not sure how that happened, he had had visions since his youth. And he could see my son who had passed, and he could see my dad, who had passed, and he could see, my elder sister, and she too had passed.‘ extract from Looking For Pearls by Katherine Da Silva

I have had to live through about a decade of relatives, passing on. So it is all going to go in there somewhere, as life has to appear as real as it is. Though there is plenty of humor as our family, and hopefully my adult self had to cope with such a lot of striving, to make  things happen. I am glad that TV today is getting so predictable and repetitive if only for creating the need and urge in me to make something different. In a way, the whole fictionalized future dwelling semi-scifi, genre, of recent film, has so much forboding attached to it. I too have my version of something like that, in ‘Battlefield’, this will eventually have a different title, but I have some stories up my sleeve, for the year ahead, well at least two or three story lines. The film Hope and Glory leaves us in the period in which it is made, and although this perfectly reflects a certain nostalgia, of a time when people pulled together, through rationing, and bombing raids, the parts I like most are the family exchanges, and rituals of eating together, from grandad to grandchild, all understanding their place, and all interacting.

I was bequeathed a few old photographs recently from the war period, and childhood of my mother. I was so pleased to be in receipt of them, as there is some wonderful historic element, in the styles of clothing and hats. My grandfather on my mother’s side had come from a farming family. And it is with some delight to remember that age, when families would expect to eat food grown in their own gardens. I think the twentieth century has gone so far into the financial element of material things, the era of the super store, that people, and community have truly suffered. My mother’s era, were much more family orientated, and everything especially during the war years of my mother’s youth, was home grown, and they had a small holding. And then of course they had the war to deal with, and for as long as I can remember, every  now and then, my mother would become very thoughtful, about this period of her life, reliving the things, people went through.

 

 

 

 

Writing…memoire/novel..Happy Days..

Posted in Autobiography, Biography, Stories and reviews with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2016 by kathydasilva

bookcoverimageabcIt’s funny and not, that at the moment I seem to be choosing humour to lighten what was traumatic at the time of something happening. But, I am not sure it will actually add to the ‘drama’ effect of real life being retold or for that matter remade, in the effort to fictionalize part of the story. I might be understating some of what happened if I add too much humour but humour is part of my personality, and some of that humour came from my father. At the time of a funeral the strangest things can happen. The people you have not seen for a while, can turn up looking completely different to when you last saw them, and in some way this can produce quite surprising elements to a scene. I am just remembering that famous film story, Four Weddings and a Funeral. Well that was something of a combined element of happy and sad moments in the lives of friends who had been quite close.

So to add to my dilemma, I will have to add something of what I read, or rely on for strength. Books are like old friends. My copy of Ulysses by James Joyce is thirty years old! The glue is dry and now not able to keep the pages together, it was paperback. The centenary that was being celebrated was the hundred years from his birth into this world. And that was back some years ago! I had read Stephen Hero and The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. When I recently went through the trauma of loss, I was privileged to view a newly written play, performed by Theatre of Eternal Values. They were Yogics, and multi national in terms of the cast who performed. So English, Italian, Finnish, Dutch, and Spanish actors took part in the story of William Blake’s life story. They did the whole lifestory, from birth to death and interwove the story of Job from the Christian bible inbetween scene changes to depict this. Blake  was someone who spoke about social injustice, and was also accused of sedition and ‘uttering treasonable expressions’, and he was quite a good craft person with regard to artistic drawing and print making.

A man who received visions from God, and saw angels in the fields amongst workers, as a child looking through a window. It is indeed amazing how one or two writers can impact a person, thoughout their life. So perhaps I am on the right track, with regard to my story after all!  It is like being in the river of life, the spiritual river if you can imagine a little of something of the mystery, it helps. My friend Michael’s poem, ‘in whose vortex I am caught up..’ Michael is a Brighton poet. The Blake play, showed the devil as a two character part representing his ‘tongue’ or two faced deceptions. It was well done. I thought this play needed to be in the Barbican. I think everyone should see this wonderful version of the life of William Blake. And now back to where I left off…..

New Short Stories

Posted in Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva with tags , , , , , , , , on September 12, 2014 by kathydasilva

book cover

Here is the new book, and cover. It comes to mind, that experience is the starting point of a lot of things. I was a young girl trying to study art at a college in London. I had lived outside London since my birth until about the age of nineteen, so entering the city, even at the start, though an adventure, was also like entering a brick kind of jungle. There are miles of city in any direction. It takes a person about an hour to cross from one side to the other and that is also when the transport is by riding a tube train. The stories are, from as far back as my undergraduate years, though written more recently. I think I have grown more interested in abstract views too of story telling. However, the stories exist quirky and humorous in places, though some will pull faces no doubt, at the characters in some of the stories. At this current time http://www.feedaread.com are selling this at £3.49, plus the dreaded post & pack fee. About £2.80 but, the parcel can be directed to any address. It’s a great feeling just to share this. I feel more encouraged to make the number of stories grow now…in the hope of achieving about 150 to 200 pages. Looking For Pearls will be the next one in line…so happy…about this.  Happy reading for those who may dare, please think of giving authors a chance ..Christmas is coming too…Kathy Da Silva