Monday 28 May 2018

Poem manufacture

So, I'm doing an online poetry course "How to Make a Poem". This is my homework!

Thinking about a craftsperson (see how politically correct I am) and how they might painstakingly create a thing, a chair, a bicycle, a painting etc. What are a poet's tools, their materials, can their "work" be compared.

In my head I want to argue with the word "work". Sometimes a craft isn't work, even if it's mechanical, it's an art form. If it's done for enjoyment of the person creating it, does that make it not work. If it's done for someone else to enjoy, does that then make it work. I have no answers.

I do think that poetry, in the hands of someone who knows what they are doing has, for me, the same value as a perfectly built bicycle, made out of carefully considered components, attuned to each other. Simply having the best components all installed well onto a bicycle doesn't make it a great bicycle. The right things have to work together, in harmony, just selecting the right combination is part of the "work" in putting together the perfect bicycle. Except, there is no such thing as a perfect bicycle. Shock, horror. There isn't. A bicycle is intensely personal to the individual riding it, their geometry, their strength, their skills, their love of roads or rocks, of climbing or descending. It isn't possible to have one machine which is perfect for every single person and every single use. Hell, I have four bicycles and there are maybe tiny bits of imperfection on each one. One has a creaking bottom bracket. One has forks that don't always work. One has a saddle which after time isn't comfortable. One has bottle cages which can't both take 750ml bottles. You know what I'm saying, there isn't one perfect bicycle, not even for just one person.

And so there are many poems, many forms, for many different occasions and one which strikes a chord for me might not for someone else. And similarly, the words are selected with care but work differently when combined with other words. And the aim of the piece is up for grabs, even whether there is an aim. Perhaps the "aim" changes as the poem is shaped, the direction evolves, it isn't what was planned. It might not have a message, it might have a message. The poet uses tools to amalgamate their words in a meaningful way. Tools like rhyme, rhythm, alliteration, metaphor, all those poetic devices.

Concise? Not necessarily. Clear or unclear. In your face or clouded. There isn't a final outcome or a one size fits all.

Saturday 5 May 2018

Pro logistics

I don't often write about anything relating to my job.

Sometimes we do things which look odd and clunky but in honesty are more reflections of people who really really want to make things work, and trust their colleagues and think about another way to get things done. Logistics is one of these. We have the ability not to look at logistics and not say that's ridiculous. So, this is what happened, and I only have a little bit of the picture.

My colleague H, who is British based but happens to be at our warehousing in Belgium contacts me on WhatsApp. Am I going into the office (in Manchester) on Friday, she asks. I haven't planned that far ahead and say I can do if needed. She then asks if I can take something from New Mills to Manchester. Depends what, I say, bearing in mind my commute includes a bicycle and a train. I get a photo. It's some caps. They weigh 650g. This seems entirely workable. That's fine I say.

Another colleague, also in Belgium gets in touch. Can I also take some garmin mounts, oh, and some shirts. I say yes and dig out my bigger rucksack.

So, this small package starts its journey:

Belgian Warehouse to station - with colleague M who gets a lift from colleague C
Station to Airport Brussells airport - M by train
Brussells to Manchester - M by train
Manchester airport to New Mills - M by taxi
Across the valley to my house - M by car
My house to station - Me by bicycle
New Mills to Reddish North - Me by train
Reddish North to Manchester office - Me by bicycle
Handed to colleague D in office
Manchester to Yorkshire - D by motorbike

Trains, Planes, Automobiles, Bicycles and Motorbikes

And this is all quite normal and ordinary and more effective, quicker and cheaper than courier, and by the time the package arrives with me it has gained other stuff I didn't know about. Metal things, maybe something to do with TT bars I hypothesise.

And if in five years time someone says, you must remember that package, this was an unusual request, yes? I say no, this is just one example of many of how we get things to places. We rely on good willing people and a system where someone centrally understands the various micro movements of its staff. It relies on people like my colleague M getting home to his family after a week away and at 10pm at night getting into his car to drop things off at my house. It depends on him and me having the kind of friendship where that's OK. It depends on me not being bothered about taking a 32 litre rucksack on my folding bike where normally a 15 litre would do. It depends on my colleague D going on his own  motorbike at the bank holiday weekend to see the Tour of Yorkshire. It depends on my colleague H knowing enough about her people to know that this can work and on her keeping a general handle on the packing. We're capable of moving things around quickly and flexibly and talking to each other and knowing each other. What there isn't, is paperwork for this kind of mundane event. Except this one, where there's this solitary blog entry which ties all the different gentle communications together into one brain dump.

I find it hard to believe that all businesses don't operate like this. When I worked on the Underground it was quite reasonable to drop something off with a train driver to hand over to a colleague organised to be there at the station waiting for it at its destination. Surely this is how all businesses with more than one base operate?