I love hearing you read this Deb! What a wonderful weaving of the too-muchness, and too, the making it into something other. Sometimes it feels too hard to come up for air and see anything straight. I love your paintings and your tellings. And your Donkeys — I am sure they will lead you back to somewhere.
PS: The Pearls and the Tiny Teeth! We have a Pearl with Tiny Teeth (we call them this, specifically) and I was listening to you read whilst, in the rain, I dug up daffodils that stretched into the path up to the woodland. I felt you near, catching a glimpse of our Midnight Grump and her tiny teeth that never actually bite but threaten us, laughing on the other side. I do not know why I am rambling on about this. I hope you'll forgive me.
The evocations and limitations of our ability to be human - to be more sardine and less fisherman. The necessary sabbatical from life. The images that you evoke to create equality with the seacreatures - the smoke-ring blowing jellyfish, the invitation of a fairy or mermaid, the lack of beginnings - or endings. Reminded of Beginnings by Susanna Juliusberger (seminal book of my childhood) and selkies and their legends. Like mermaids, a refusal of the human. Who would really want to be human right now? To hear this in your voice is such a dream - thank you for your words, your voice. (This isn't very coherent, but your words are).
Deb, you are so right! It's all too real somehow... something happening in the real world. And, you are doing what artists and writers do, getting to work, as Toni Morrison advises. Thank you for your fantastical real story.
Your artwork is beautiful. I especially appreciate the loneliness in the darkened moon-lit room. The moon always lends beauty and hope in dark moments.
'DEAR AMY,
I think it’s too real somehow. It’s something happening in the real world. And where is the magic or where is the point or can this even be an ending? There is spilled ink everywhere literally, figuratively, you name it!'
"All my stories waft out in smoke rings." That line is meant to be honored forever on paper. Your work and your story are so rich and though-provoking, it's like I've never even experienced them before. What a gift! Thank you for this one.
And I hope you find your boat, my friend. Even if not Zissou model, but a Khaki Scout lake cruiser. And I hope the world doesn't try to drop anchor. Hope we can chat it up on the tin cans this weekend!
I love hearing you read this Deb! What a wonderful weaving of the too-muchness, and too, the making it into something other. Sometimes it feels too hard to come up for air and see anything straight. I love your paintings and your tellings. And your Donkeys — I am sure they will lead you back to somewhere.
PS: The Pearls and the Tiny Teeth! We have a Pearl with Tiny Teeth (we call them this, specifically) and I was listening to you read whilst, in the rain, I dug up daffodils that stretched into the path up to the woodland. I felt you near, catching a glimpse of our Midnight Grump and her tiny teeth that never actually bite but threaten us, laughing on the other side. I do not know why I am rambling on about this. I hope you'll forgive me.
The evocations and limitations of our ability to be human - to be more sardine and less fisherman. The necessary sabbatical from life. The images that you evoke to create equality with the seacreatures - the smoke-ring blowing jellyfish, the invitation of a fairy or mermaid, the lack of beginnings - or endings. Reminded of Beginnings by Susanna Juliusberger (seminal book of my childhood) and selkies and their legends. Like mermaids, a refusal of the human. Who would really want to be human right now? To hear this in your voice is such a dream - thank you for your words, your voice. (This isn't very coherent, but your words are).
Deb, you are so right! It's all too real somehow... something happening in the real world. And, you are doing what artists and writers do, getting to work, as Toni Morrison advises. Thank you for your fantastical real story.
Your artwork is beautiful. I especially appreciate the loneliness in the darkened moon-lit room. The moon always lends beauty and hope in dark moments.
'DEAR AMY,
I think it’s too real somehow. It’s something happening in the real world. And where is the magic or where is the point or can this even be an ending? There is spilled ink everywhere literally, figuratively, you name it!'
Thank you for lending the magic!
"All my stories waft out in smoke rings." That line is meant to be honored forever on paper. Your work and your story are so rich and though-provoking, it's like I've never even experienced them before. What a gift! Thank you for this one.
And I hope you find your boat, my friend. Even if not Zissou model, but a Khaki Scout lake cruiser. And I hope the world doesn't try to drop anchor. Hope we can chat it up on the tin cans this weekend!