Poetry, music, love

 Through the Front Window 

Leaves flicker in anticipation.

When they are gone,

Branches will sway and twist.

Everything is music, is dance.

Coloured lights will reveal on hills.

Bobbing, as boats in a bay, 

Winking, twinkling.

Everything is art.

Reading the poetry and works of Czelsaw Milosz, Boris Pasternak and Anna Akhmatova over the next wee while to sustain the soul.

Taken up singing with a classical choir whilst in search of Jazz and Ella’s song book. I think the music’s coming back to Wool City.

Black mohair project almost at completion.

Poetry, music, love….what else do you need apart from a good soup for lunch. Broccoli and green lentil today.

jazzposter

 

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

….said someone once upon a time in a story.

Instagram – where memes and selfies reside, and some other photos.Pinterest – where memes reside, collections of photos which tend to be decent but who knows where they all came from. Facebook – where selfies and memes reside.
Interesting that the human race is putting itself out there with gusto, giving it all away for nowt. Not just from the here and now, but times gone by. Is this global sharing or global narcissism. Is it the only way many can be seen and heard – their art, their heart. Is there some kind of symbiotic movement happening like a murmur of starlings. Synchronicity is everything said Jung. Are we trying subconsciously to get in to synch. Maybe at some point, the magical formula will appear and ping, we’re swimming like a shoal of herring.
What’s missing? The future’s missing. Where’s the vision.
Who’s observing, who’s listening. Timing, of course, is everything. Wait…wait…wait.
I don’t feel the moment yet. I’ll let you know when I do.

In the meantime, I am reading  three collections of poetry edited by Neil Astley at Blood Axe:

Being Alive, Staying Alive and Being Human. All three were recommended and I am passing forward the recommendation. Enjoy!

 

 

 

Past, present, future – writing and making for here and now.

Knitting and stitching projects, story-writing and rediscovering poetry are working towards being in the here and now and creating a new tomorrow.

I think it can take quite some time to make a shift, through the generations, out of tradition and into modernity. I am reading a mix of novels at the moment, including Lacuna by Kingsolver, Bosnian Chronicle, by Andric, The Ministry of.. by Roy. All of them evolve around cultures and the shifting of humanity across time. I have also learnt to accept that it’s fine to be between times, one foot here and another over there.

Progress is often slow, with a lot of stalling. It can be frustrating when a vision seems to take forever to transpire. But knitting and writing demand pacing, giving time and trusting the imagination. Trusting that if something wants to happen it will, when it’s ready. The vision of my work in progress is constantly there and I allow it to lead me to tell the story of others.

It’s Easter this weekend, and that draws me to painting eggs, baking with filo. The tradition would have been to pick food colouring from shelves, make a gibanica loaded with cheeses. Now it’s more about the natural (modern) way. Eggs are dyed with turmeric and coffee, as I used to with yarn years ago. Gibanica has a heavy dose of spinach and eggs, with sparing use of sheets.

 

Shifting is possible, keeping some traditions is too, if they are a part of you, ingrained. But a new way of being is also essential, for all of us. We travel constantly. Be sure to document your journey, and of others too. There’s a common theme for all of us.

I enjoyed a year of reading Italy, fiction and history, language and cuisine. I haven’t done yet. The dream is to go back again, soon, if possible.