inside the egg chicken and egg
we learn about
Originally published in the special issue “The blue collection 9: Home” of the phenomenal Blue Fifth Review, the Triptych was made into a video in honour of International Haiku Poetry Day 2019, organised by The Haiku Foundation.
Many thanks to Rob Ward for his help with editing the video, and to Maria Pierides for her exquisite photograph.
(For some reason, my website insists on presenting the video twice! )
Happy International Haiku Poetry Day!
the ayes have it
the amount of wool
to make it new …
the baby smiles
in her sleep
in the seagulls’ caws
white on white
work in progress—
through the mists a door
to another world
the musty smell
of dark soil
for a day out of sorts—
Snow White …
all that remains
of our stories
Day of Ashes
the tense muscle
of the ripe seed pod—
her eyes travel around
the lightness of hope
the vivid colors
in my dream
morning sun …
before the shadows
fall into place
silver threads …
on the trail . . .
one hundred ways of saying
#The100DayProject is a global art project encouraging everyone to participate in 100 days of making. It starts on April 2nd, 2019.
“The great surrender is the process; showing up day after day is the goal. For the 100–Day Project, it’s not about fetishizing finished products—it’s about the process.”
For details about the project take a look here
Briefly:1—sign up for the newsletter. 2—find and follow the facilitator on Instagram . 3—choose a theme: you commit to be engaging with it every day and posting on Instagram the result. 4—announce your project on Instagram. Tag your announcement with #The100DayProject so that all of your posts will cluster together, and you can find easily the other participants’ posts.
2019 will be my second year. Last year, for my theme I chose: #100daysnewthings. Each day, I searched for, and found, something new to me. ‘It’ may have been an interesting quotation, a piece of information, a discovery or re-discovery, a haiku or other poem, something I hadn’t noticed before…
It proved to be a challenge but also a blessing. The practice expanded my curiosity, widened my horizons. And not long after the project finished, I discovered felt making! Half of this year’s theme: #haikufeltings. A felting with a haiku every day for 100 days!
It is not going to be easy, and it may take me longer, but I am ready for the challenge. I know it will benefit my creative practice, it will feed my muse . . .
Daily hashtags: #The100DayProject #haikufeltings #poetsofinstagram
In a dark wood . . .
Heaving streets, bulging with holiday shoppers. Shop windows in garish colours blink their version of hell. As soon as I get the present I came for, I head for home.
Running for the bus, I bump into someone, or he bumps into me. The double-decker reeks of wet clothes. A young woman, clutching her baby close to her chest, is arguing with the bus driver who refuses to let her on without a ticket.
We stay put for a good thirty minutes, until a passenger, with a shaking hand, taps his debit card on the card reader and pays the fare for her.
the baby babbles . . .
the bus window
and without props
It hasn’t rained for weeks. The two workmen in my back garden, digging the foundations for a cat enclosure, sound industrious. There is a young apple tree standing right in the middle of it, and I have instructed them to shorten its branches so that it can be contained within the structure. I imagine my two cats spending happy hours climbing it, perching on its branches. But when I look outside, I see the tree is missing. I am told it was taking too much space and they decided to remove it for me, at no extra cost.
the town crier’s
I own five hot water bottles. As you might have guessed, I feel the cold more than others. When I place these hot, felt-wrapped receptacles on my coldest parts, I experience the bliss others must take for granted.
clang of a spade
I imagine the workmen
and check out the whole journal: a rich and rewarding read!
The shelves in the beauty aisle are piled high with hand creams. Tubes, jars, bottles, tins of brands I never knew existed. So many! I stand here for a while, wondering whether this abundance could be attributed to the forthcoming Brexit. After all, all sorts of strange events in the last couple of years have been attributed to it. I imagine that both remainers and leavers would need a cream to soothe their hands after clapping for one or the other speaker; after rubbing their eyes in disbelief on reading the daily news or covering their ears for hours in the gesture perfectly captured by Munch’s “The Scream.” Could this be it?
the street dog’s sad
3 of my tanka translated into Italian and published in Lumachine 31, December 2018
A big thank you to Euphemia Griffo and Stefano d’Andrea for including them in this wonderful Journal.
For week 7 of the weekly challenge I wet-felted a cat cave. I may have to widen the opening for my cats to get in, I’ll see how Emile and Jacobo deal with it.
At the moment Jacobo is afraid of the cave, approaches it slowly, carefully, and then retreats walking backwards.
the laughter, the bonding,
the ‘laughing’ or the ‘laughter’ thinking about this . . .
Wet felting is a hands-on craft. With warm water, olive soap, a rolling pin, bubble wrap, and a lot of pressure on the wool fibres, I create fabric.
first day of school
a kid climbs on the teacher’s
For week 5 of the #weeklywatercolourchallenge, where I contribute weekly felted projects, I felted a pair of mittens!
the town crier’s
Image: nuno felted neck warmer