Personality in pictures #1

I was baking apple crumble the other day, and realised that I always try to peel the apples in one piece. I cultivated the skill in childhood, and now it's something I do without even thinking. But for someone who doesn't know me, it might be considered a 'quirk'. So I'm starting a list, because I'm proud of who I am, quirks and all.

And I'm not alone. Minerva likes to peel oranges in one piece too.

turning medusa

before, I was hopeful
full of nerves and poetry
your laugh made me wish
I was funnier than I am
your words drew me in
fueling yearning, spinning tales

up close you were smaller
yet you spoke of large dreams
and the man you might become
confused, I opened myself wide
and you took out your pleasure
leaving only consequences
leaving me with old tears
and a swelling rage

when fathers and husbands
rape and curse and injure
when brothers abandon
their faith and their sisters
who am I to offer all
my fire and my weakness?

when love is danger
and trust is ruin
what can I turn to
but to stone?

between seasons

It's true.

dreaming in riddles

I had a vivid and peculiar dream the other night. I've consulted my dream books but I'm still trying to figure it all out.... poetry resulted.

dream for my brother

They were coming for you
a They we only knew to run from
I never asked what you had done
never questioned that I would aid you

I gave you a car to go from us faster
a car that was never mine to give
it was the colour of courage
I gave you the colour of strength

when you veered off the highway
the car you drove was white
the colour of beginning, or of death
wedged into a crack in the earth

I crawled through the wreckage
crumpled at both ends like paper
gathering up your abandoned keys
fat bunches of keys to everything

brother, where are you running to?
do you know what you left behind?
your gods cannot love you as I do
so follow them, but take your keys

Dream Meanings - Keys
Colours in Dreams

Origins

At last! This is the origin of the title of my blog: a brooch by jeweller Barbara Heath. I saw an exhibition of her work years ago, but couldn't remember her name, only the scintillating name of one of her works. In recent times I have been trawling local libraries for books on jewellery. I found an entire book on her work and this was one of the featured pieces.

Now that I know where the phrase 'aid for the hopelessly inarticulate' came from, I am left wondering if I should do something about it? I feel relieved to be able to acknowledge a source of inspiration. However I am not sure if, in her place, I would be flattered or bothered if someone borrowed the name of something I created, to use for themselves.

I am not a starfish

I have been uprooted so many times, leaving pieces of myself behind. Each time I settle on the earth again, I send out tentative tendrils, hoping to stay. But I am not endlessly regenerative. I am not a starfish with spare limbs. Resilience needs nourishment. Without roots, how can I drink? How can I connect to the life around me? What is to stop me from blowing away with the first winter storm?

rain/firsts/returning

I love the rain. The way the breeze smells as the clouds arrive; the way it sounds falling on a roof and gurgling in the gutters; the way the air looks so clean afterwards.

I can't believe it's been 2 months since my last post. We have to move house against our will, one of the many perils of being a tenant in this country. We've been looking for weeks on end, and haven't found a new home yet. It has taken over everything, put all my plans on hold, filled me with vague, hovering anxieties.

But a new year is upon us, and I think this one will be filled with firsts for me. There may be nothing new under the sun, but there are always firsts. First kisses and the first time you notice the colour of someone's eyes. First times for seeing yourself differently, for waking up to the beauty in the world.

May your 2011 be full of lovely firsts.