Perth Words... exploring possibilities.

Being Vocal.

June 8, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

A day off – yayyyyy!

Yesterday was a working day up in the hills of Perth and it was cold! (Well cold for us – about 10 degrees C when we got there but the wind was freezing!) I had four layers on and wished I’d added my leg-warmers too. The sun never really got through the clouds so although the temperature rose to 20 C it felt a lot colder until the wind died down.

I’m moaning because the day before was beautiful, sunny and warm after many days of rain; a glorious Summer day in the middle of our winter – at least 25 degrees.

Anyhow, we rushed home to get ready after work because last night we were due to see my brother-in-law perform with Vocal Evolution, 2013 Australian Mens Harmony Chorus Champions – Woo Hoo!

Vocal Evolution – Australian Champions Photo: from VE Facebook page.

What a great show! Certainly brightened up our day and naturally, we’re very proud.

If you’ve never been to a show, get down to their next one – these guys have amazing voices and do a fantastic job of entertaining with gusto.

Last night Vocal Evolution mixed it up with ‘TLA’ and ‘Lock Out’ Barbershop Quartets and the band ‘Alcatraz’ .

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Jazz band ‘Alcatraz’ Photo: Ellington Jazz Club

Amongst others, their amazing singer Bindhu sang this song then belted out an Adelle song as if it was soooooooooo easy!

A great night of fabulous voices – thanks Vocal Evolution!

#FrancesMacaulayForde #VocalEvolution #TLABarbershop #LockOutBarbershop #AlcatrazJazz

Posted in Music, Sound, Writing | Tagged Alcatraz Jazz Band, Frances Macaulay Forde, LockOut Barbershop Quartet, TLA Barbershop Quartet, Vocal Evolution | Leave a Comment »

Inspiration

June 5, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

So I’m speaking here, directly from my heart, remembering my childhood in Africa and the struggles of my dearest Mum and Dad who died many years ago, who would have been so proud to see my words in print.

I’ve arrived at a time in my life where I’ve finally allowed myself to be utterly selfish.

My children had grown after my divorce into balanced, well-educated adults living their own lives, so I took myself to university.

It was my time to put myself first, my needs first, my dreams, soul and heart first, to follow my bliss.

I finally published the book in Ireland for them and for my brothers, children and extended family, just as much as for myself.

Inspiration

Why do I now prefer writing in my bedroom when I have a perfectly good study – a space cleared for thought?

I feel inspired to dream while I’m awake in here – not there.

Is it because I’ve just coated the room and everything in it a lilac pink?

Is that the colour of my inspiration?

Or does it illicit forgotten memories from my childhood?

The baby-pink bedroom of my spoiled youth, the dear faces of my parents still missed after so many years.

I’ve been through so many colours since then.

But perhaps I need to visit them once again, in my imagination.

Maybe this shade is my mood-connection to the past.

I’m alone now, responsible for the world I live in and my painted walls.

Or could it be something to do with the womb – a protective colour – a safe haven for my dreams.

Help that I need in a harsh world, often too over-whelming for someone totally unprepared or never expecting to be the ‘Bottom Line’.

This softness, which evokes feelings and comfort, allows my mind to wander and explore, knowing I’m enclosed and private, separated from others who see too much.

Or is it the large mirror with its elaborate edge reflecting my thoughts surrounded by soft, gentle, allowing colour?

I look at myself in the frame and from the ‘truth’ of distance – an inner truth?

Is that what empowers my exposure?

Is distance enabling me to write such secret, forgotten feelings in my journal?

My teenage bedroom was a similar pink – total colour – enshrining girlishness and innocence… protection, before adulthood and reality hit me.

#francesmacaulayforde #HiddenCapacity #Inspiration

Posted in Africa, Books, Hidden Capacity, Writing | Tagged Africa, Frances Macaulay Forde, Hidden Capacity, Inspiration, writing | 6 Comments »

Wordless Wednesday: Blarney

June 4, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

#francesmacaulayforde

Posted in Ireland, Wordless Wednesday | Tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Ireland, Wordless Wednesday, writing | Leave a Comment »

‘Call Waiting’

June 3, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

‘Pauline’: Jessica McCallum 2002 #jessicamccallum #francesmacaulayforde

Call Waiting

I killed you!

I took away your power to insult.

Never again will your strident, insistent beeping
intrude on intimacies between friends.

No. I struck you off.

I pressed the buttons that devoured you.

I ended your reign of terror.

Then Pauline rang
‘A new baby? Wond….’

Beep – Beep! Beep – Beep!

You didn’t die!

From happy jubilation
brain switches,
buttons pressed,
retreating “Call me back.”

I lost the war.

I don’t blame Pauline.

Rudeness is forgiven under pressure
from the mighty “I wonder who it is?”

Someday I’ll explain
and continue my campaign
for courtesy.

I died a little.

Aren’t I important too?

(Another from my book “Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey”. )

#HiddenCapacity #francesmacaulayforde

Posted in Books, Hidden Capacity, Poetry, Writing | Tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Hidden Capacity, Jessica McCallum, Poem, POEM: Call Waiting, poems, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, words, writer, writing | 2 Comments »

“My Car”

June 2, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

Cover ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ #francesmacaulayforde #HiddenCapacity

One from my book: ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poets journey’, Pub. 2003, Ireland.

My Car

Red used to be my favourite colour.

I’d just get Tinkerbell (my 1983 Mitsubishi Colt)

cruising nicely at sixty kilometres an hour

then red.

I’d have to slow down.

Pump the brakes.

Change gears gingerly in case her clutch drops out….

An old girl now, she needs TLC…

takes her time to build up speed,

then I see red. (Or orange.)

Bugger!

But, once she’s there (sixty K.’s) she sings like a bird.

I think it reminds her of her youth.

I’ve tried dressing her up (covering the rust).

The silvers don’t match and I know she feels the shame.

The petrol pump makes her feel better.

Once I insert that nozzle,

she almost smiles.

Her seat greets me tenderly

and we smoothly swing away,

high on fumes.

Yesterday,

a young man washed her windows.

She sparkled and purred.

Yes. Red used to be my favourite colour.

Now mottled shades of silver have loyal appeal!

#HiddenCapacity #francesmacaulayforde

Posted in Books, Hidden Capacity, Poetry, Writing | Tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Hidden Capacity, Poem: My Car, poems, poetry, words, writer, writing | Leave a Comment »

“My Life as a Sari”

May 29, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

I love how sometimes a poem ends up taking you to all sorts of places you don’t expect.

‘Dance’ by Jessica McCallum at His Majesty’s Theatre, 2009. #jessicamcallumartist

My poem “My Life as a Sari” has appeared alongside beautiful artworks.

POETRY POSTCARD available from Jessica McCallum

An excerpt published on a postcard.

#IndigoJournal

And published in the INDIGO JOURNAL of West Australian Writing, Vol 3 published by INDIGO books and received lovely comments.

Fremantle Press have recently become on-line partners with the original publishers of the journals and have always been tremendous supporters of those who write in Western Australia, quietly promoting and encouraging new, emerging and established writers by putting their money where their mouth is.

As a result of my inclusion in the journal, Fremantle Press also interviewed me about my writing and particularly, this poem.

My Life as a Sari

Securely tuck your fears under elastic

at the centre of your waist with your left hand,

and with your right, hold the remaining

metres of spun silk – your future, facing inside.

Measure the drop of the fall

and it’s finely stitched edge

for correct positioning against heels.

Wrap yourself in the gossamer fold,

swirling the diaphanous film behind

but stay level and wedge the top border

into your petticoat.

Like a bride preparing herself,

you are now ready to pleat.

At a distance from the last fixing,

hand-measure the delicate veil,

embroidered with details

important to who you are

toward the middle of your body.

Some may need five pleats, some six.

Less is more. Another judgement held on show

– a statement of size, however graciously it moves.

Securely fix the perfumed fanning

and grasp what is left, bring it back around

to wrap warmly and return to the front.

These days, you can choose to gather all loose

ends onto your left shoulder, secured with a jewel.

But many prefer to throw the remainder

over, remembering to hold an arm half bent,

letting the end float freely – the beaded

edge skimming the inside of your wrist.

#francesmacaulayforde

Posted in Art, Dance, Love, Perth City, Poetry, Theatre, WA Writers, Writing | Tagged Frances Macaulay Forde, Fremantle Press, Indigo Journals, Jessica McCallum, Poem, Poem: My Life as a Sari, poems, poetry, poetry in Western Australia, Western Australia, words, writer, writing | 1 Comment »

Wordless Wednesday: Azaleas

May 28, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

A car park in Co Clare, 2003. #francesmacaulayforde

Posted in Ireland, nature, Other blogs, Wordless Wednesday | Tagged Azaleas, Co Clare, Flowering trees, Frances Macaulay Forde, Ireland, Wordless Wednesday | Leave a Comment »

Frozen Phenomenon

May 27, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

Ever since hubby and I took her to see it at the movies, like millions of other little girls, my granddaughter is absolutely obsessed with Snow Queen Elsa from the highest grossing animation movie of all time: Frozen.

As soon as the video was released I ordered it from Disney and she was the first to have a copy in her class because it wasn’t available here yet.

Apparently for ‘Show and Tell’ she took the book I also sent away for in and sang the song “Let it go!” (For those not aware, the song was a huge hit from the pivotal moment of the film.)

My granddaughter and her 18 month old little sister sing it together and dance around her bedroom. (I tried to video her singing it today but she was “A little bit shy, Nanna.” )

This weekend her Mum is taking her to Disney on Ice and supposedly all the little ones in the audience will dress up like princesses. So naturally, our little princess wanted an Elsa costume.

We’ve been looking for months and were very pleased when the brochures arrived telling us the costume and the dolls were in stock. We tried lots of different shops and got the same reply – “Sorry, sold out!”

There’s even a ‘black market’ in costumes and dolls now – anything in fact to do with ‘Frozen’. I tried to buy snowflake hair slides and nope – nothing available.

There’s was no alternative – I would have to make her an outfit myself – eventually, a doll as well. (She does have a birthday coming up so she could wear the costume for that too.) Could I get the right color materials to make a dress? No – they were sold out too! Perhaps I’m not the only Mum/Grandma etc having to make an outfit…

Well, I did my best. And because I’ve got left-over material, I’m going to make a baby version for her little sister.

Anyway, I took the dress over today for a try-on. I need to take the hem up but basically, it fits and my granddaughter is thrilled. What do you think?

Posted in Children's stories, Crafts, MOVIES | Tagged Elsa costume, Frances Macaulay Forde, Movie: Frozen, Snow Queen Elsa, Song: Let it go! | 4 Comments »

Her First Time

May 23, 2014 by Frances Macaulay Forde

Backstage.

Dank, dusty, sweat-smells in the soft blue light. Rope, sandbags, tape-marks glow. Scene-stay, props on the table in regimental order marked for Act 1,2,3.

Black on white sign yells ‘Silence for Performance’.

Soft sneakers pressed gently one in front of each other. Movements slow – considered care.

Audience clapping. Material and audience murmur as Curtains Close Act 1.

Audrey rushes off-stage, clattering – chattering LOUDLY to her waiting beau, declaring her excitement at first performance.

Stage Manager lifts two fingers to mouth for silence – ignored.

Quick! Frustrated grab in the once-again dim light. His hand wraps around the wooden grip of a ‘Silence’ sign banged impatiently against a thigh as he follows.

Hushed stumble down to the dressing rooms, annoyed – door locked – can’t knock – too loud.

Scratch a little – reign in – wait with rebuke ready. Click, unlocked door creaks open. Force the sign through the crack and whisper. “Quiet”.

He races back upstairs with heart pumping – ‘Damn!’ missed the bloody Curtain Open for Act 2.

All through Act 2 Audrey blithely entertains, celebrating her debut in the change rooms with popping champagne and muffled giggles.

Curtains Close Act 2.

‘Places Please’ bell for Act 3.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. 1,2,3 steps stage left.

Curtains Open Act 3.

Heavy heels approach uncaring, echo through dimly lit wooden stairs and empty stage.

Audrey bumps out.

Giggle – stumble – giggle. ‘Hic – Oh sorry Love – Hic…’

Frustration bites hard and a mouth thunders. “QUIET!”