Because the project has students from Canterbury Christ Church University and the University of Kent right at its heart, it was a little nervewracking to meet the selected people for the first time – just before the launch.

No worries. Katy, Stephen, Delph, Denica, Eleanor, Becky, Nicky and Kasia are lovely – talented, hard working, full of ideas and also ready to laugh. All qualities that help when you are doing anything to do with writing! You’ll be hearing lots more from them, and about them, on this website over the next six months. They have been paired up – a trainee teacher and a writer – and will be facilitating workshops to community groups of over 60s and under 18s over the next few months. The list of groups are still to be completely finalised but it was good to meet some of them at the launch – including Moving Memory dance group, The Canterbury and District Pensioners Forum and the fabulous Desert Island Divas.

The project is truly intergenerational because the same writing exercises will be given to both groups – and although several people have asked whether it’s a competition between the different age groups to see which is wiser, we’re expecting Wise Words from both sides. And so it was lovely to hear people last night saying how much they were looking forward to getting their words heard, and after listening to some of their stories, I can’t wait to hear more.

The project is absolutely NOT about going back to school. To use the words of one of the students who said in her application form, creative writing ‘can be a celebration of memories, or a snapshot of a moment of joy’, and another who simply said she loved writing because ‘I love people and voices and relationships.’

Wise words indeed.

We are going to be making festival appearances, having a dance created from the workshop results, hosting a website with a public forum for everyone to share their wise words, offering many chances to take part even if you are not in one of the groups, and publishing an anthology, which we hope will give a picture of what it’s like to live in Canterbury and Kent now, but also in the past and what might happen in the future.

And did I mention the soundscape, the piece of originally composed music, or the photographic record of the project from start to finish…. you can see why I say this is EXCITING!

But as well as words, Wise Words is about making new connections and friendships. It felt like a very good start yesterday.

Do pop back to the website which we will often be updating, or you can follow us on twitter – @cantwisewords.

After all, you can never have enough wise words!

Andrew Shoben: ‘A Public Approach to Art’ from The Lost Lectures on Vimeo.

As my literary journey round Kent gardens continues, the more I’m thinking about the differences between a public and private reaction to beauty.

Because most of the gardens I’m visiting are public for at least part of the year, they could easily have become bland. And is there be anything more depressing than a garden designed to appeal to everyone?

However, the ones that please me the most are those that show an element of private passion – for a plant or a period or a country or even an animal.

Often this is hidden, so it’s been my job to seek it out. Following any clue I can.

And like all interesting art, what I find could be said to reveal more about me than the original artist who just held up the mirror.

I like this thought because no creative project is worth anything without taking the risk that we might be saying much more about ourselves than we thought. And in the process, allowing *you* to say more about YOURSELF. A chain of mirrors…

(via FridayReads on Facebook)

Here’s Dan’s prediction:

Abu Nasir’s real plan is to place Brody next to the V.P. before Walker’s attack/asassination attempt. Brody will save the V.P. and /or stop Walker and thus secure his political future. The long game is to have Brody in washington and eventually the Whitehouse as V.P. and even President. That will be the arc for series two, I think, with Kerry the only one who knows Brody is working for Nasir.

So not quite right, but better than others such as ‘Saul and David are plotting to make Carrie think she’s crazy’, or ‘Brody’s wife gets shot and he blames Carrie.’

Or even mine…

Carrie will crack up but Brody will go to her and risk being taken as a traitor because his wife finds evidence in the garage. Carrie persuades Sault o work with them both, and they just manage to track Walker down in time. However, in the meantime, Abu Nasir captures Brody’s daughter to avenge his son’s death. Brody gives himself up to Abu Nasir, and is shot. However, not quite dead – and series ends with Brody surrounded by wife and family, and Carrie left alone again.

Poor Carrie. And doesn’t Claire Danes look spookily like the French Lieutenant’s Woman in this photo. Which was another case, of course, of multiple endings, although obviously Homeland only had one ending. Just not the one any of us had figured out.

Anyway… Dan wins a signed copy of You Do Not Need Another Self-Help Book, and the opportunity to be smug when Series 2 comes on.

Thanks to everyone else for joining in. Every time I think about giving up my blog, it gives me great heart to know that there are people as mad playful as me out there….

Those words above are from one of my favourite books, Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Although that book was written in 1955, it’s still alive on the page today. And in my heart.

Maybe it’s something to do with the timelessness of shells?

I’ve been thinking about this because on Thursday I spent the afternoon at the Margate Shell Grotto, and although there is a mystery of the date this magic place was created – 1700′s, Roman times, on maybe in the mid 19th century when it was rediscovered – it still has the power to awe and silence visitors (well, this one anyway!)

My visit was part of my garden journey. Although not traditionally a garden, the grotto sums up everything important about the project – the way gardens (or garden buildings such as grottos and follies) are now seen as the very essence of Englishness and yet contain influences from all over the world; that the best ones are sources of wonder – for both the creator and the visitor; and just importantly, they are the containers of brilliant obsessive passionate life affirming stories.

The Shell Grotto is now owned privately by the lovely Sarah Vickery, but was only discovered by accident in 1835 when a certain Mr James Newlove lowered his young son down a hole that had appeared in the garden of his home in a suburban Margate street. His son came back to the light chattering about tunnels decorated with shells, and so the grotto was found. It’s open to the public now, and its unprepossessing home is definitely part of its charm.

I must admit that by the time I reached Grotto Hill, I’d given up on the grotto really being as magic as people said.

How wrong could I be?

So who built it?

Well, that’s the million dollar question, and one Sarah quite rightly says that she’s not too bothered to know the answer to in case it limits the mystery. The obvious solution – carbon dating – won’t work because of the oil lamps used in Victorian times, so over the years, people have tried to find out about the original builders in every way you could imagine.

As with all the gardens I’ve visited so far, I tried to forget everything I knew about the history of the garden and stood in the middle of the main room of the grotto to absorb what I could of the Spirit of the Place.

Luckily I didn’t feel the ectoplasm crawling down my back that some of the seance ladies in the photograph above claimed to experience. Or, more disappointingly, find myself communicating with a handsome Phoenician soldier. Instead, and to my surprise, what I came up with was a dance. This is partly because of the shells spiralling up to the light…

… the exuberance of the patterns leading your eye round the corner…

… the twists and turns of the corridors…

and the surprises that make you stop, and then start again…

I can’t recommend a visit highly enough.

There’s a grace about the grotto that you won’t forget, and to continue Anne Morrow Lindberg’s quote that I started this piece with … “By grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony…”

Those words above are from one of my favourite books, Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Although that book was written in 1955, it’s still alive on the page today. And in my heart.

Maybe it’s something to do with the timelessness of shells?

I’ve been thinking about this because on Thursday I spent the afternoon at the Margate Shell Grotto, and although there is a mystery of the date this magic place was created – 1700′s, Roman times, on maybe in the mid 19th century when it was rediscovered – it still has the power to awe and silence visitors (well, this one anyway!)

My visit was part of my garden journey. Although not traditionally a garden, the grotto sums up everything important about the project – the way gardens (or garden buildings such as grottos and follies) are now seen as the very essence of Englishness and yet contain influences from all over the world; that the best ones are sources of wonder – for both the creator and the visitor; and just importantly, they are the containers of brilliant obsessive passionate life affirming stories.

The Shell Grotto is now owned privately by the lovely Sarah Vickery, but was only discovered by accident in 1835 when a certain Mr James Newlove lowered his young son down a hole that had appeared in the garden of his home in a suburban Margate street. His son came back to the light chattering about tunnels decorated with shells, and so the grotto was found. It’s open to the public now, and its unprepossessing home is definitely part of its charm.

I must admit that by the time I reached Grotto Hill, I’d given up on the grotto really being as magic as people said.

How wrong could I be?

So who built it?

Well, that’s the million dollar question, and one Sarah quite rightly says that she’s not too bothered to know the answer to in case it limits the mystery. The obvious solution – carbon dating – won’t work because of the oil lamps used in Victorian times, so over the years, people have tried to find out about the original builders in every way you could imagine.

As with all the gardens I’ve visited so far, I tried to forget everything I knew about the history of the garden and stood in the middle of the main room of the grotto to absorb what I could of the Spirit of the Place.

Luckily I didn’t feel the ectoplasm crawling down my back that some of the seance ladies in the photograph above claimed to experience. Or, more disappointingly, find myself communicating with a handsome Phoenician soldier. Instead, and to my surprise, what I came up with was a dance. This is partly because of the shells spiralling up to the light…

… the exuberance of the patterns leading your eye round the corner…

… the twists and turns of the corridors…

and the surprises that make you stop, and then start again…

I can’t recommend a visit highly enough.

There’s a grace about the grotto that you won’t forget, and to continue Anne Morrow Lindberg’s quote that I started this piece with … “By grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony…”

When the first wrinkle appeared, she forced friends and family to wear pink-tinted sunglasses. It was easier, she said, to change their view than hers. But time kept moving on until she had to cover up all the mirrors in her house. Better not to have a view at all.

More here.

When I said I hated domesticity, he cleared our kitchen completely. We ate takeaway pizzas on the floor, laughing as we picked out the plaster dust, and I let him sweep me off to the bed he’d covered in newspaper. Afterwards I watered the roses. Tried to ignore his smile.

These 50 word photostories are something I’ve been doing a while. I normally write them – to this very limited word count – to accompany something I’ve spotted as I’ve been out and about, and which has triggered a little story for me. That’s one of the reasons I call them Snaps. You’re very welcome to join in – either on your own blog and link here, or by putting your story in the comments column. You can read more here – here

Phew, that’s a lot of links in the paragraph above. But it feels only appropriate as Nik and Caroline are both generous champions of the internet – and particularly in using it to promote other writers and writing they like. I can’t tell you how many new writers and stories I have discovered from links in their blogs and twitter streams, including their own perfect books.

Freaks! is something a bit different though. It’s a collection of short pieces, often illustrated brilliantly by Darren, which takes the theme of superheroes. Not the ones you might expect though. Here we have people with superpowers such as ‘the ability to mask one’s true form’ as a girl turns into a mermaid (a heartbreaking story) or ‘the ability to speak, and to understand, any and all forms of human language’, which I don’t just love because the first line features a bench – “‘Dan il-bank bilfors imxarrab,’ she says. (This bench must be wet.)”. Although it’s got a wonderful Manga feel to the design, this book is something else inside. The stories are poignant, funny, deep and, well, I keep going back to the dedication on the first page:

Ahhhhhh….

So, it is my GREAT pleasure to have both Nik and Caroline on here to finish my sentences. In true collaboration form, they have answered together, or separately speaking for the other, so I’m not going to ask which one of them answered which question – and don’t I wish that was my superpower – a resistance to being nosy …

When you were small, you wanted to … have hair just like He-Man’s.

The one thing you can never resist is … watching people and wondering who they are and (often) making stories up about them in my head.

You may not say it aloud but… living in this now is beautiful, true friends are better than cake, Britain’s varied weather excites me.

The last time you went ‘WOOP’ with excitement was … three minutes ago, a text.

Your five favourite words are …. epididymis, chignon, serendipity, love and umbrella.

**

THANK YOU, Nik and Caroline!! And a little gift for coming on here … a chignon which also acts as an umbrella!!!