Owl's Song
(Ted Hughes)
He sang
how the swan blanched forever
How the wolf threw away its telltale heart
And the stars dropped their pretence
The air gave up appearances
Water went deliberately numb
The rock surrendered its last hope
And cold died beyond knowledge
He sang
How everything had nothing more to lose
Then sat still with fear
Seeing the clawtrack of star
Hearing the wingbeat of rock
And his own singing
-------------------------
list of things/ideas i want to do(december 27 2009)
stitch lines from dreams into fabric often
draw or paint pictures in my book and write poems next to the drawings
feel as free as possible and let my imagination feel that way too
write my book: of love i should be so full/ book of birth
(it is called that so continue to let it be called that)
draw or make anything i wish
make sonnet quilts (14 lines down and 7 words across?)
have several everyday tasks: for example, everyday sew one word on the sonnet quilt
sew words, in general
again, make dream quilts
make word decorations for rooms
make songs
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
writer-mother notes (somewhat depressing)
file under: note-takings from Mother Reader (an anthology)::"What does it mean to love, for a woman? The same thing as to write. . .WORD/FLESH. From one to the other, eternally, fragmented visions, metaphors of the invisible." "Successful creation, like all creative living, depends on the trust and self confidence first developed in the child's earliest realationship to (his) mother."
and
"Guilt, desperation, splitting of the self, alienated role playing, resignation to lower accomplishment, renunciation of the writing self--these are some of the realities, some of the possible choices that writing mothers live with."
"Genuine feminine innovation will not be possible until we have elucidated motherhood, feminine creation, and the relationship between them."
and
"Guilt, desperation, splitting of the self, alienated role playing, resignation to lower accomplishment, renunciation of the writing self--these are some of the realities, some of the possible choices that writing mothers live with."
light light beribbond'd light
file under: pictures of light:::::::went to "a christmas past" a lovely festival in west branch, iowa. we rode in a horse carriage (snort snort) past historic hoover houses and, we ate fresh doughnuts made by boys scouts at this fire that you can see if you look into this here phot-o-graph!! the best doughnuts i've ever had. (snort snort neeeigh neigh jingle jingle) lighting up the tree and finding the treasures of last year, like this beautiful prancing f ornament made by jj. . .
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- light light beribbond'd light
- bath at 16 months
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