heavy sun, gentle river

a slip of a girl waits
in monsoon-muddied waters
her hands swim, elbow-deep
together, apart, together, apart
like slender, courting fish

her raven head is hot and damp
she waits, hands swimming, alone
only the water feels like home
in a place where sunlight has weight
and a slip of a girl is nothing

her dress is soaked through
and the tips of her hair drip
with monsoon-coloured water
soon her naanii will call her
from the gentle tug of the river

a slip of a girl waits
with the Ghanges in her skirts
for a mother who can't come back
her hands swim under the surface
together, apart, together, apart

Personality in pictures: the state of your butter tub

There are people who dig into their butter as if there's gold buried at the bottom of it, and the butter is just in the way: a culinary side effect of the mining process.  There are crumbs left in the butter as their toast is spread with equal abandon and enthusiasm.  Their toast has a little pool of melted butter in the centre and few streaks across the edges.

Then there are those who glide the knife across the surface, taking butter evenly from all sides; smoothing rather than gouging; revelling in the smear of buttery goodness across the entire surface of their toast.  Even the edges, because dry crusts are anathema to them.  They have a routine.  The toast has to be the perfect temperature before butter is applied, resulting in butter that is halfway between melted and firm.

Which are you?

Peak

a newspaper flaps
like a broken bird
on warm bitumen
the hollow, rattly
sound of buses
echoes in tunnels

clutch in, gear out
gear in, clutch out
turn left, turn right
try not to turn at all
movement without
thought or progress

a single person in each
with a single purpose
we hum, roar, clank
wait, rev and fume
our separate ways
slowly

Coming back

So it's been more than 6 months since my last post, and I'm not even sure why. Nothing dramatic or incredibly interesting has happened. Just the dailiness of life and much time passing while I carefully cultivate intentions to do things that I have not done.

I am a starter, by personality. I am most enthused by the newness of things, by ideas and creating and planning. That's when I have energy and drive, when I can pour all of myself into my latest work or project.

I think that I started this blog with grand ideas about eloquence and writing, ticking an item off one of those 'things I've wanted to do' lists. Not thinking about what it meant to me, or how I would keep it going when life gets mundane, or when I don't have anything inspired to say. Which of course, is most of the time. So who am I writing for?

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.