The View From Here

Well, it’s not been a quiet month here on Constitution Street, where all the women are strong, the men are good-looking and the children are above average….

An announcement on a further Scottish Independence Referendum, the triggering of Article 50, a surprise General Election to be held out with the fixed term of Parliament, and the closure of the Port O’ Leith bar in Leith, have all kept things interesting the past month. Only one of these constitutional changes has a certain outcome. And, this, from the same shock announcement that had grown men lining the street, in tears, at 1am, holding hands and singing passionately about home, place and identity.

It seems that in politics, as in the drinking game, timing is everything and only those with cool heads and warm hearts stay standing. We will soon have had two general elections and two referenda in the space of three years, with more votes likely in the near future. The Scottish Government was told by the UK Prime Minister that now is not the time for a choice on Scotland’s future as an independent country as it would be a distraction to Brexit negotiations. The electorate was then told that now is the time to hold a snap General Election.

March – April has also been a time for written correspondence. It’s nice to see the revival of letter-writing. The First Minister Nicola Sturgeon wrote to Prime Minister Theresa May setting out what she believes to be her mandate for a further referendum and of the need for people in Scotland to make an informed choice about their place in the UK and Europe ahead of the BREXIT settlement. The Prime Minister then wrote to the President of the European Council, triggering Article 50 and the UK’s departure from Europe. And back here in Leith, I wrote to my boss setting out my proposal for a 9-month sabbatical from the day job, beginning 1 July, to concentrate on the Constitution Streeters project. I’m delighted to have received a very positive, supportive approval for the career break from Voluntary Arts Scotland. My job will soon be advertised as a fixed term contract similar to maternity leave cover.

Nine months. Three seasons of the year. Five inches of hair growth. The full term of a human foetus. And perhaps, if I work hard and am lucky, time to develop a book.

The labour pains have been testing in these early days. A week off over Easter to read and assemble thoughts reminded me how challenging working from home can be and left me experiencing symptoms of nausea, guilt and worry about the inevitable fluctuations in creative productivity. All learning etc. But I recognise the importance, to me anyway, of a daily routine and breaking a big project down into small constituent parts. I am now actively seeking out a supervisor to help me prioritise tasks and maintain pace. And co-working space. I want the discipline of company and the quiet but reassuring hum of others in a room to keep witness to a working day. I have approached both Customs House (Scottish Historic Buildings Trust) on nearby Bernard Street and the Centre for Constitutional Change at Edinburgh University Law School about hosting a creative residency. They’re thinking about it.

My choice of timing reflects my wish to take advantage of daylight and community happenings in the summer months during the participatory research stage of the project and to minimise any potential risks to the arts charity I currently head up (funding and staff jobs are secure in this 9 month period). Office colleagues have all been very supportive about the change.

leith library

Leith Library, Ferry Road

I’ve completed my first interview. This was with a couple who recently moved their family home and architecture practice from no.63 Constitution Street. There was no particular significance attached to starting here first. It was simply a bright sunny afternoon and it suited me to join them for a dog walk in their new leafy location to the southwest of Edinburgh. As with all the informal conversations with neighbours thus far, the interviewees expressly wanted me to know their voting pattern (I would never ask) and seemed very happy to have been asked for their particular telling of the Constitution Street story.

What other things am I learning?

  1. To say as little as possible during the interviews to give respondents space to shape their own contribution and not second-guess my views.
  2. Taking my fold-out chair to the front door steps in the morning sunshine gives a special snapshot of the street-view. Masked by big sunglasses, a book and even bigger mug of tea, I can discreetly observe and listen to fragments of passing conversation, be warmed by the lightness of familiar greetings, notice the patterns of comings and goings and can trace the faint April sun’s journey east to west– my sun-deck at the front door steps of no.68 becomes a cold shadow by the afternoon and across the road is then the place to be. I sat like this finishing the sublime ‘Lonely City’ by Olivia Lang, a book I found myself underlining entire paragraphs of. Given her subject matter, it seemed entirely appropriate to complete while alone but amidst the street surf of people washing in and out the front door to the tenement stair.
  3. Beneath everyday household clutter, the table in my spare bedroom is an attractive and functional desk space.
  4. Retaining professional and social networks during a period of solitary writing will be important. If you’re reading this and are in one of those two categories, or any other category actually, please don’t be shy at picking up the phone!

People have been generous in their reading recommendations. These are my trail markers for the navigation of a broad subject. This month I have been dipping into or revisiting:

  • The Rings of Saturn, W. G. Sebald
  • Autumn, Ali Smith
  • The Lonely City, Olivia Lang
  • Lifetimes of Commitment, Molly Andrews

A welcome confidence boost came from getting a place on a series of essay writing workshops entitled ‘Genre-Bending’, tutored by some personal literature crushes including Max Porter and Karine Polwart. Experimenting with form and spending two days experimenting with other writers feels pretty jammy.

The sabbatical is unpaid and I only have three or four months’ salary saved. But somehow I’m surprisingly relaxed about that. I am fortunate to own my flat, to have a modest income from occasional yoga-teaching and to not have any dependents aside from a dog to feed and medicate. And regards Bons/ Guru-B, we have a literary collaboration of our own in mind too. I really do think everything is going to be alright.

It’s been far from an easy few weeks but I’ve made some small steps. It turns out that being on, within and of the street is all-engaging and that anything is possible. In the weeks ahead, I will be prioritising finding a mentor and a work space in time for the July start date. 1st July is also the date of the Barrathon Half-Marathon that I have been arm-twisted into entering by my friend Christina (see Halfway House poem). I love the isle of Barra (Barra bunting) and regardless of running ability, the surge of fresh air, exercise and good company will ensure that this new phase of life begins with a top-up of endorphins.

Finally, Leith library (Ferry Road) is a place of under-recognised grandeur, free book loans and undemanding company. At first glance, it appears a bit grotty like the street outside – old flyers on the community notice board, toddlers throwing plastic toys at one another while their parents negotiate broken computers and English-language lessons- but look closer and you see the black and white vintage photographs in frames depicting our streetview of yesteryear, the suspended reading lights that resemble planets in a solar system and a steady flow of fellow citizens arriving for MSP surgeries, settling into a quiet corner to be lost in one’s own thoughts with a good book, or simply wanting a warm, safe place in which to have a doze. We lose public libraries at our peril.

Word on the street.