Sunday, 17 June 2012

i begin; i am

Today I am finally giving myself the time to immerse myself in the first week of Liz Lameroux's Inner Excavate-along,  a free read along project in line with her gorgeous book Inner Excavation, where each week holds a new chapter on exploring yourself through photography, poetry and mixed media. Liz has  prepared many juicy extras online, I can't believe how hard this lady works, and is excavating her own dig site along side us, therefore this feels like a really personal and authentic exploration. 

Of course I was always going to start with the poetry prompt (she types winking).

i am {a poem list}
clunking typewriter keys
kirsch soaked cherries
a determined flicker
an unlikely heroin
careful plaits
a hidden Charleston
black and white film
ebb and flow 
a tortoise shell
embroidered pride 
camomile infusions
folded edge pages
a cluttered sky 
patched scars
creases and wrinkles 
whispering frontiers
an island home
scribbles in margins
mending tape
isolated coastlines
shadow and reflection
academic embers
a pair of binoculars
forged words

Friday, 15 June 2012

niece wisdom

Five pieces of niece wisdom gathered at a family party recently:

1. Tables are great for hiding under to eat stolen strawberries. 

I need to sit under tables more often, what a change of perspective! Also strawberries definitely taste better when you are not sitting at the table properly. Whilst joining my niece Summer under the said table, I was taken back to a wish I had when I was little, to build secret houses under tables. I wanted to use blankets and table clothes and fill my new space with a multitude of cushions and cuddly toys. For some reason I never did. I can’t say that I was ever stopped from doing so but neither did anyone want to help me build a table house. I may well have to make my own den under our dining room table and have a poetry reading for one in there. This may sound just a little crazy but don’t we all secretly want to make cosy hide aways to cocoon ourselves in? I dare you to join me.

2. You can never have too many strawberries and they must be devoured immediately. 

Summer is, as you can tell, strawberry mad and eats them with such delight, such passion. She is fully in the moment with those juicy berries, not thinking about later on when the strawberries have gone, or what her mum will say when she has indeed eaten the whole lot whilst leaving her sandwiches. When joy presents itself, dive in my friends!

3. Some pieces fit straight away when you are doing a puzzle, others you have to keep turning and some pieces you may have to swap completely. Trying to bang the wrong piece into the hole doesn’t work.

I watched Casey for ages as she figured out the puzzle by herself at the grand old age of two. I like the idea of learning to see situations as puzzles to work out instead of as crises or feeling an utter loss of control in a situation. Patience and perseverance and a willingness to change things - oh yes, more of this please.
4. Trust takes time. 

Casey has taken some time to warm up to me. Whilst Summer flings her arms around me with abandon, Casey peaks nervously from behind her mother’s legs. She just isn’t quite sure what to make of me. She used to, in fact, cry each time she saw me. Often this made me feel sad as I love that little girl to pieces. But I knew I couldn’t give in, for I take auntiehood most seriously. And it finally paid off at the party, when she actively chose to spend time with me, handing me puzzle pieces and pointing to her board. This week, as soon as she saw me she brought a book over and placed herself in my lap, looking at me expectantly. My heart melted.
5. When the Summer of 69 plays you must get up and dance. 

Summer grabbed my hands and pulled me forwards as soon as the first notes had aired, her body already in beat with the guitar. Self conscious she was not! Self conscious I was, bearing in mind that until this point there had been nobody on the dance floor and that I am a complete introvert when it comes to these kinds of things. But you know what, what does it actually matter what others may be thinking, when the cheesy rock is  fabulous and you have a little girl turning herself into a rock chick :) I need to work on that sense of humour a little and learn to shrug my shoulders.

Friday, 1 June 2012

Bittersweet poetry

Another poetry offering for you today my lovely friends. When I read this poem for the first time, I knew I needed to share it with you, especially with the stationary addicts out there. It is such a truthful exploration of the awesome beauty and potential that crisp, new stationary has, and how this simply can't last - that special magic burns away a little, use by use. Things change. Of course the crayons in this poem could be a metaphor for many things, the poem has taken me onto paths that I am navigating step by step. Isn't it better to enjoy those 'crayons' for what they are instead of admiring from a far? Doesn't the feel of creating have much more depth? Isn't it possible to appreciate the new and the journey? That delicious  initial potential makes my heart beat faster, why don't I feel that way more often - what makes me so afraid?  However, taken literally, I love this poem for speaking to my stationary loving soul.