Tiny White Flowers

Tiny White Flowers

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Artist's Way Journal - Week Eleven (Ten), Day Four

It's been a long day.  I taught two classes at two different time, drove kids from here to there, and even now there is activity in my house.  It's after 10 pm, and DS is doing homework, DD is making cookies for a friend whose birthday was today.  Fortunately, (currently), they are both in agreeable moods.  Not so in the morning when they have to get up...  but being Friday, maybe better than most.

DH finished installing the new lights in the entry way and between the kitchen and dining nook.  Much nicer to be able to see, and it's been years in the planning.  Next is a new wall dividing the living room from the front entry way more completely.  I'm sure I'm repeating myself, but this is not unusual.

Pilates was pretty good today, but I think I lost some momentum with my weight training class. So it goes.  At least I feel better now than I did earlier.  

Crud.  DS just informed me casually that the needle in the needle tip he puts on his insulin pen dropped off.  No problem, he tells me.  It's on the floor, probably on its side.  It probably fell through the floor, he says.  

Note to self:  wear shoes until able to vacuum tomorrow.  

I need another poem.

So, this is a little heavier than I'd planned on, but I like it.  I've got it in a book on my shelf upstairs.  

The Portrait
 
 My mother never forgave my father
for killing himself,
especially at such an awkward time
and in a public park,
that spring
when I was waiting to be born.
She locked his name
in her deepest cabinet
and would not let him out,
though I could hear him thumping.
When I came down from the attic
with the pastel portrait in my hand
of a long-lipped stranger
with a brave moustache
and deep brown level eyes,
she ripped it into shreds
without a single word
and slapped me hard.
In my sixty-fourth year
I can feel my cheek 
still burning. 

Stanley Kunitz
 
  

This isn't my experience, but I can feel it powerfully.  It's amazing the secrets a family can keep, and not let go.

Well, I'm not in top form today, so I'm heading off to bed.  I swear I shall officially call these my Evening Pages, or my Late Night Pages, or the Only Time I Have A Quiet Time to Myself Pages....


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