Tuesday, 6 September 2011
My Real Job
paintings on broken skate-boards. Artist: Micahel D. Cooke
Each day that's free from paid work, I head to my writing room to write. I put in the hard yards.
People ask me "What do you do?" Meaning - what is your paid work? Nearly always I simply say I am an early childhood teacher; a reliever (supply teacher, substitute teacher) for a child-care centre.
Sometimes I tell them that the relieving work suits me because it offers me the freedom to do the work I really want to do - write.
Because I work with children, people then presume I write children's books - which would be nice, but I don't. If I can be bothered I go on to explain that I mainly write poetry. People then presume it's rhyming poetry about gardens and cats. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but they are heading down the wrong track. Usually it's far too exhausting trying to haul them back on to the right track, so I just leave it at that.
I love my work; I have the best boss in the world, even if she is a bit stingy as far as the pay goes.
I have been neglecting this blog for some months. I think perhaps I should face facts and accept that it is indeed time to retire this blog...
Calling all poets -: Just a reminder about the poetry competition currently running at poems in the Waiting Room - go HERE for details. Clo...
The mild winter that we are experiencing has everyone remarking. I put out sugar water for the birds, but so far it has o...
Waipounamu (Wall Poem) Hoisting history on his back like a sugar-sack, the swagger strides along greenstone trails. All night the crib...