‘Words are a re-ordering of dream, an attempt to drag down the superconscious into the good old conscious, where theatres are and publishing happens. But too much world-order and the dream-power is lost. I have to stop, dip back down into sleep.’
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‘Poetry provides some unique satisfactions; the epigrammatic click of a word locking a couplet, the exact phrase that nails a sound, texture, colour or movement. ‘
‘I’ve always had vivid dreams. Frequently, though, they don’t make for interesting writing. They remain locked in their own internal logic.’
Donny O'Rourke takes us to Edinburgh in August, for a Lughnasadh harvest festival — but one of culture, not of crops.
Tiffany Murray flees the over-familiar, but still creatively disabling, complaints of a despondent writer, by escaping to the strange new world of Iceland and its music.