Monthly Archives: September 2008

through a haze

The stories
The lost stories
crying out in the mist for someone
to tell them, to pour into them
the breath of ink
>
The characters
The lost characters
seeking a plot for their loves and hates
ache to speak – but their faces lack
the pulse of ink
>
The dreams
The lost dreams
Nightmare and dreamsteed they gallop
white as blank paper or clotted with
the blood of ink
>
The writer
The lost writer
staring at the page, willing her fingers
to move, and moving, find again
the voice of ink

 

This is a response to Rick Mobbs’ latest excellent artwork, above, which made me conscious of how little energy I have these days for writing. It’s not quite a writer’s block, just a redirection of the energies that I might have used for writing. I’m so buried in reality just now that stories don’t flow so easily. But it will be over soon – less than a week before I can be free to live, and dance, my dreams.

An unexpected compliment…

I wrote a few months ago about slowly starting to challenge the self-perception that I’m not a good dancer. And about working through the frustration of learning new skills, particularly in areas that don’t come to me as naturally as others.

At an early stage of learning tango I was getting frustrated at the way my body was slow to respond to the music, when I knew so clearly how I wanted to respond musically. I also was very conscious of how slowly I was learning the new skills, compared to others who seemed to pick them up much more quickly. It added up to a deep need to show my teacher and dancing partners that I wasn’t slow at learning everything or insensitive to the music.

Although most of my life I’ve seen myself as a weak dancer, being a good singer is definitely part of my self-image. Over time I’ve acquired a real confidence in my ability to sing and to communicate to an audience. So I set myself to learn to sing some tangos. Partly because I knew I’d enjoy it, but also because I felt the need to make up for my lack of competence as a dancer.

And so, at a milonga last Friday, as well as dancing almost all evening, I sang three tangos that I’d learnt…

What really surprised me was that I received as many compliments for my dancing as for my singing!

I’d danced several tangos with a new partner – he was a good dancer, and we really seemed to understand each other, so I found it really easy and fun to dance with him. Not just with him, but with other dancers that evening, I really felt how much progress I’d made in the last few months. But what stunned me was that, as he led me back to my table, he commented that he didn’t know which had been better, my singing or my dancing.

Once I got over the surprise, I realised that there’s something very special about receiving a compliment that so strongly supported the hard work that I’ve done in challenging my own perceived boundaries.

The most unexpected compliments are the best!

A story that needs to be told…

I’m a big fan of TED.com, which has an inspiring range of videos about fascinating ideas and experiences. Today they’ve posted a request on behalf of the photo journalist James Nachtwey – to help to spread the word about a story that he wants to tell. I don’t know exactly what it is, but having seen his work as presented in the video below, I think it’s a story the world needs to hear.

Apparently he plans to break the story on the 3rd October, in advance of that, through TED.com, he’s asked people, including bloggers, to spread the word as they can. So please click here, look at the video (sorry, I can’t seem to embed it with WordPress) and pass on the message – badges and more information are available at the same link.

Reflections

This is for Skywatch Friday… click here for gorgeous sky photos from around the world!

Unsent letters

tears mixed with the ink
make tender words fade
into vague memory as
with the passing of time
memory hardens into
unchallengeable myth
and all that bright hope
of healing these rifts is
silenced.

This was inspired by a Poefusion prompt -to write a poem starting from the lines “Women in the silence”. And by the memory of several unsent letters I have written in my life, one of which began:

“I almost certainly will never be able to share this with you. But I have written it as a letter to you because do I want you to understand, and because I think that it would help you too, if you are ever able to open your defences sufficiently to read this with an open heart.” (me, 28 November 2008)

My muse isn’t very talkative just now, and I haven’t the time to court her. But this came to me and seemed worth sharing.

When you’ve already left

In a fortnight I’ll be leaving the country I’ve been living in, and the job I’ve been doing, for the last six months. But I think my brain has already packed its bags and got on the plane without the rest of me…

Partly because these last days at work will be difficult and stressful – and because, short of unexpected disasters,  there’s not much more for me to do but manage the process I planned months ago. Which is important, and will be challenging, but it’s not inspiring somehow.

Partly because with such a short time to go there’s no point starting anything new, so my time is spent saying goodbye to people rather than planning new and exciting things to do with them.

And partly because what’s ahead (a month of tango in Buenos Aires!) is such an exciting prospect.

I keep finding myself going round my flat identifying what to pack and what to give away.

And I’ve just recieved a whole stack of books (including the latest by three of my favourite authors (Diana Wynne Jones, Garth Nix and Eoin Colfer), and displaying incredible self-control by not reading them – they’re scheduled to be read when I arrive in Buenos Aires. Which sort of emphasises the feeling of life being on hold.

It’s not unpleasant, but it is an odd feeling – to be here but to have already left.

It’s also not conducive to much blogging, so please bear with me… much more exciting stuff to come soon!

Dawn mists over the river

I saw rather a lot of beautiful sunrises in this location… here’s another!

Beautiful skies from all over the world at Skywatch Friday

Insomnia

Befuddled by stress, my lurching mind
Chases reality – from about 12 hours behind!
Sleeping by day and working by night
is making me feel rather less than bright.
Trapped between weariness and insomnia
I wonder if cafeina vincit omnia?

 
<For Sunday Scribblings. But also very real just now!

Fenced in

Don’t fence me in
with your rulers. Don’t tell me
how to measure my world!

I bear the wounds of years struggling through
the thickets of others’ judgements
thorny with their precise gradations
hopelessly hoping to reach some clearing
where I could be at peace
having finally contorted myself enough
to fit comfortably between their pricking thorns.
Trying to force the world to allow us all to be right.

But now wisdom tells me
I will find no such clearing, so long as I
agree to walk within their woods.
To measure myself with their silly wooden sticks
that cannot comprehend the weight of my burdens.

Often now a protective caul of anger
or better, a laser of insight,
burns away the imprisoning thorns

Until plain in the sky above me
shine the stars of love and justice
by which I will steer my course.

A lot of what I’ve learnt this last year is to be more selective about which of the judgements others make about me I accept for myself. And I’m getting a lot of practice just now at protecting myself – by being more aware of the factors that might lead someone to make mistaken judgements about me. Also I have developed a feeling for what I’m like, deep down, which enables me to say, no, I’m not like that.

I’m navigating a very difficult time at work, and sometimes people’s views of me do start to get to me – particularly at night, when I can’t seem to brush them off so easily as in the day. It’s like a little horde of lilliputians coming and sawing on me with their tiny rulers – which isn’t conducive to sleeping! And out of these feelings came this poem… it would benefit from polishing but I wanted to say this now!

The photo is Barbed wire sun., originally uploaded to flickr by stonefaction.

Seed


Bursting its kernel
A tiny voraciousness
Thirsts towards sunlight

For one single impression

The photo is Sprout, originally uploaded by Bitter-Sweet-.