“Quarantine and social distancing have brought up a lot: anxieties, memories, and even new observations.
Throughout the week we’ll publish selected works on our website and across our social media channels (an audience of about 25,000).
Share your stories.“ —From Whispers To Roars
Stay safe❤️
During these months of such uncertainty, creative expression is a beautiful release. It is an honor to have my poetry and art included in this gorgeous, thoughtful, inaugural issue of Ailment – Chronicles of Illness Narratives.
(clicking here or on image also will take you to Ailment’s First Issue)
I hope you, your loved ones, and all people you know are managing the days and staying safe❤️
I sketched the three drawings that accompany my poems when visiting with my beautiful mother at the nursing home. These last few weeks have been difficult not visiting with her, but days when she manages to answer the phone we get to chat a little. The nursing home allows families to drop items off. I go once a week and drop off crullers, comics, and family photos with love notes. My mother is my touchstone. Since suffering her massive stroke, over two years now, she still never complains. She manages small smiles. I selfishly miss that glorious smile of hers, the one I so often brag about-her god-given movie star grin.❤️xo
thank you
chapter one
before
chapter two
after
before
I knew
after
I realized
I pray
I can write
chapter three
before my spine
becomes unglued
joy august ripsaw
the tipping point
there is one
and this is it
spinning on sharp hair
like a top
waiting to see which way
the body falls
I can already hear the thud
welcome music to my ears
eyes finally close
rest now
you’ll spin again
tomorrow
leonada’s earring
yanking a thread from the soul
that’s what it is
one filament at a time
you unravel
note by note
composing
soundless symphonies
for the outside world
dreaming
word by word
form by form
every infinite limb
in the universe
becomes rapt
in your pursuits
then
one day
there’s nothing left to give
only
what you’ve made
and your efforts
are either remembered
or forgotten
crazy blue bird, created a few weeks ago with Tombow markers and Prisma pencils, while in a feathery mood 😉
boiling blood
coagulates like milk
clogging thoughts
thwarting permeation
to the heart
raging senses
flame anxiety
heat depression
lacerate hope
undernourishment
of the mind
as blood thickens
the heart hardens
like curdling milk
the soul sours
until
no contentment
in cool flowing breezes
only writhing anger
in hot spiraling winds
animated refuse
I have a sinking sense sometimes
the cork in my dinghy will pop out
while getting sucked down into a watery vortex –
a horrifying image…
Do you know what happened to the
Tidy Bowl Man?
I’ll tell you if you don’t know or can’t remember –
his career ended up in the crapper.
I don’t want to end up
in the crapper
wearing a white sea-captain suit.
I don’t want to spiral helplessly down, down, downward,
while desperately crying out,
“…it works so you don’t have toooooooooo–”
I vow to always work. I promise to never be lazy.
And I’ll always keep a plunger nearby, in case I hear the Tidy Bowl Man’s plea 😉
LoBoat Illustration created a few months ago and previously published.
Fellow blogger and friend, Deb of C-Dog & Company and I often discuss the merits of keeping our respective creative dinghies afloat 🙂 One must keep their sense of humor when discussing dinghies, corks and creativity 😉
so many struggling
wanting more than ‘millimoments’ of euphoria
wondering where to find this fickle contentment
happiness
a promised aftereffect of the human condition
what if
we’re not supposed to be searching
what if
cheerful reflection is too deep in the wishing well
perhaps earth isn’t designed for constant contentment
wouldn’t sunup be iridescent blue
stars illuminate pathways to lovers
tides even-flow with the heavens
maybe
happiness is more like the wind
unpredictable
rustling leaves and racing clouds
never settling
what if
we took solace in these haphazard thermals
where seeds still take root
winged beasts soar
and cool air displaces sweating flesh
let’s not search for happiness
let’s take comfort in its randomness
knowing we’ll all eventually be found
I’ve published this little gal a few times, she keeps wanting to be seen…
sadness
suspended by the cool sea
blue on blue
restorative
warm earth anchors
soil sanded tones
floating
directionless
ebb and flow
hope
believe
you can sail
on terra firma
Seabiscuit Shell
delicate daughter as a wayward mermaid – one of my favorite photos
seabiscuit shell created a few months ago after staring at my Breyer’s horse collection that shares my studio (yes, I keep plastic horses – in my defense – they are very pretty)
Maybe a Triple Crown…
Dear Friends,
When I was little, I wore my brown hair in a cute pixie. Next, I sported a mussy shag that I adored at age ten. My chubby cheeks were in full view. As I grew into my insecure teens so grew my hair. I realized if it grew it long enough, I could hide behind it. My face would be concealed, as would my thoughts. When I found my roaring twenties, so roared my hair. If I wore it big and crazy enough, people would run. In my thirties, I grew tired of hiding, I secured my hair in a heavy ponytail – like a sword.
Hair Hiding
Heavy as my hair got, it made my heart feel lighter.
One bright day I realized, hey, this freakin’ hair is really heavy and it hurts my head. I was ready to lighten the load. What made it much easier was knowing my ‘Linus Blanket,’ went to help make others secure. It has been donated a few times, the last being October 2013.
I don’t hide anymore. I can’t. My kids make it quite impossible, as does the giant husband. They always seem to find me. I miss my old friend. So back it grows, but this time for the right reasons.
Thank you. May you all be happy in your skin, and if your skin has hair, may it be as long as you like. Dream well…
Here’s to Daphne, a dear friend taken by cancer, a long time ago. Daphne and I used to peruse wig catalogues when she was up to feeling pretty. And to my valiant Aunt Lenore, also claimed, but was ever-valiant for many years…
Little Miss Long Hair created with Prisma pencil August 21, 2014 with my hair tied back. Photo is of me and my beautiful, younger sister Dolores in 1980. Sorry if I grossed anyone out with the shot of, My Hair in a Bag, 2013
anntogether 