This August

Magnificent Malachite, 17 August 2018. Copyright 2018 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
I photographed this exquisite Malachite sunbird. It lives in a nearby thicket but frequently visits the garden, posing in prominent spots, in the hope of attracting a mate.

I completed “Swallows!”

The South African spring is officially here, but it was already in full effect these past few weeks as the first swallows returned. This was providential because I spent the month revising “Swallows!”, a rhapsody about my favourite bird. After quickly evolving from a one-verse sketch into a four-verse ballad—the development of which I shared on social media1—the poem is now complete, and I shall start revising the next one directly.

I outlined new poems

Struck anew by the loveliness of the rural world around me, I was compelled by three sights to compose new poetic sketches: “Pear Tree” was inspired by a lonely pear tree in early bloom, the last of what was once an orchard2; “A Partly Cloudy Morning” by the mist floating above the wheat whilst I was out in the fields; and “A Blustery Day” by just such a day when the wind blew strong and made the pines sing as if they were a choir!

I embraced a longer artist cycle

Pleased though I was with the new poems, they brought the total number of new sketches to seven, and poems for this collection to thirty-four. It occurred to me that I shall never complete this project were I to continue composing new poetic sketches. I resolved, therefore, to stop writing new poems after “A Partly Cloudy Morning”; but a few days later, confronted by the pine tree choir, could not resist outlining the draft for “A Blustery Day”!

It was clear that my well-intentioned resolution was senseless. I realised that my original goal of publishing the poems by the end of the year was unachievable; and so, rather than subject myself to unnecessary pressure, decided to embrace a longer artist cycle3 instead. Where in the past I had hoped to publish poetry at least once a year in addition to releasing new music, I came to see that it was wishful thinking for work of this kind.

Writing traditional poetry is a time-consuming process, one I find deeply fulfilling, and I see no reason to go precipitously about it. There is value in living with one’s work for as long as one can in a period of reflection and refinement. Poetry—however simple (and mine is very simple indeed)—benefits greatly from this. I shall publish my poems when they are complete, be it this year or the next, and new music will come thereafter.

Footnotes

  1. I shared the evolution of the poem—from the initial sketch to the draft as it was on 11 August 2018—on Facebook, Twitter and Google+ (the most legible version).
  2. My village was once known for its pear orchards, earning it the nickname “Little Pears” Town.
  3. By this I mean the time it takes to conceptualise, create and release work.

This June

Paradise Crane in a Field, 8 June 2018. Copyright 2018 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
I photographed​ this paradise crane, the graceful national bird of my country (South Africa), in a field. They are also known as blue cranes, after their elegant pale-blue feathers.​

My label released its first album.

The highlight of June was Origins, the inaugural release of the Lonely Swallow label: a collection of six contemporary classical impromptus for the piano composed, performed and recorded by Affan at his home in London. The pieces ebb and flow with delightful melodies and tempos that gently transport you along—now light and lively, now quiet and reassuring. (Of these, “Origin IV”, the fourth track on the album, is undoubtedly my favourite.) I am honoured to have worked with Affan on releasing his first album. I hope you enjoy the work of this very talented musician.

I drafted an essay.

The subject of Art fascinates me. A graphic designer by profession, my field of study was the Visual Arts; yet, notwithstanding the theory, my conception of Art has always been nebulous, nuanced and pliable. I consider it fortunate that my pursuit of music and poetry has since forced me to think more intelligibly about the nature and purpose of Art. As a result, my understanding has become more clear, and to elucidate this emerging view, I have drafted a simple essay in which I attempt to demystify the matter. When completed, I shall post it here.

I resumed work on my poetry.

In the meantime, I continue revising the poetic sketches for the collection of poems I want to self-publish. Some are completed, some await rewriting, and some have been discarded. At the present time, I am writing “The Pines”: two verses about the sound of the wind as it moves through the trees. Even as I think of this theme, I smile. Writing these poems is a deeply fulfilling occupation. They are little celebrations of Nature—short, simple and sincere outpourings of admiration and awe. I cannot wait to share them in time!

Mentioned in this post:

Origins (Bandcamp)

This March

Sheep on the Hill, 16 March 2018. Copyright 2018 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
I took this photograph of a flock of sheep peacefully grazing on a hill.

I was tricked by a bird!

I have been working on the last of a set of three poems titled “The Batis” for the greater part of March. The Cape batis is a small bird with one of my favourite calls—three simple notes which it measures out in the sweetest whistles: foo-foo-foo, foo-foo-foo. I have been enamoured with the creature ever since I first heard its call and was compelled to adore it in verse! The subject of the third “The Batis” poem was not, however, this particular three-whistle call, but another: cherooo-weet-weet-weeeet. I had attributed this call to the batis because I had seen the bird sing this song last year, and in the “The Batis III” verses, describe both bird and call (and the joy it brings on autumn mornings) based on that incident.

A few mornings ago, hearing again the cherooo-weet-weet-weeeet, I ventured out to see if I could spot the bird. To my surprise, I discovered it was not a batis singing but a robin-chat! Puzzled, I set out to learn how I came to misidentify the songster and learned that robin-chats sometimes imitate the calls of other birds. I realised how I may have been tricked. When I identified the batis, last year, two things must have happened: the robin-chat sang the batis foo-foo-foo at one point and its own cherooo-weet-weet-weeeet at another, and I mistakenly attributed the latter to the batis, thinking it another of its calls; and since the birds look somewhat similar at first glance, subsequent sightings evidently compounded my error.

A Batis in the Tree, 5 May 2017. Copyright 2017 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
A Cape batis (Batis capensis) in the garden.

Robin-Chat in the Tree, 5 May 2017. Copyright 2017 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
A Cape robin-chat (Cossypha caffra) in the garden.

This meant I had written an ode to the wrong bird and it had to be changed! Upon evaluating the poem, I found that only the title and two lines needed replacing. “The Batis III” became “The Robin-Chat” and I exchanged two descriptive lines in the second verse—“A little bird of black and white / Brushed with reddish-brown”—for new ones more suitable, given what had transpired. Thus far, “The Robin-Chat” (heretofore “The Batis III”) has taken the longest to write and is still being revised in light of the new edits. Its four verses, though short, have, thanks to the subject matter, proven a fount of poetic possibility. Whether it becomes part of the final publication or not, it has been an adventure to compose!

I discovered an early poem.

This month, a year ago, I wrote “Rains and Roads”, the first poem drafted specifically for my poetry publication when it was still a distant idea. I came across the poem whilst organising my notes. It was dated 16 March 2017, a rough sketch borrowing somewhat from an earlier 2012 poem, “Autumn”. “Autumn” was the first poem I had ever written on a pastoral theme; in retrospect, my first essay at the format I would ultimately embrace: the Romantic lyrical ballad. “Rains and Roads” continues the theme of “Autumn” but applies it to winter. It consists of two verses and describes a wet day in the countryside: the sun breaks through the clouds after a shower of rain and rivulets trickle beside the gravel roads.

I spoke to David Armes about the poetry publication.

David Armes of Red Plate Press created and produced the handmade letterpress sleeves for the eponymous Forgotten Fields album. I spoke to him earlier this month about publishing the poetry as a handmade booklet—a paperback edition that draws on the minimalist theme of the aforementioned album. In my experience, looking into production early on has a positive effect on a project, and it has certainly been the case here. It has helped me define the concept of the work and thereby the nature and form of the publication. I function best when I have a clear framework for my creative pursuits—it liberates me from the tyranny of carte blanche—and so, articulating my thoughts to David was a boon.

I received the Origins masters and commissioned its artwork.

Taylor Deupree of 12k Mastering has done wonderful work with the recordings for Origins, the first release of contemporary classical pianist Affan and the inaugural release of the Lonely Swallow label. Origins is a collection of six impromptus recorded in low-fidelity. It has all the makings of an intimate, melodic and atmospheric listening experience which Taylor has expertly brought to life in the masters. During the aforementioned conversation with David Armes, we also touched on the visuals for Origins. He will start producing ideas on the press in April, bringing us another step closer to announcing a release date.

Mentioned in this post:

Batis capensis, Cape batis (Wikipedia)
Cossypha caffra, Cape robin-chat (Wikipedia)
“Autumn” (Forgotten Fields Blog Post)
Red Plate Press (Official Website)
Affan (Soundcloud)
Lonely Swallow (Official Website)
12k Mastering (Official Website)