Bardo Poem
Here is the poem (perhaps still in progress) that grew out of my lessons in negative space and my introduction to the buddhist concept of bardo. Thank you, Kennon.
“A Lesson in Negative Space”
Tagged with: connection, moments, poem
Bardo - Between the Islands
I had dinner the other night with Vanessa and Kennon. They travel all of the time. I told them that traveling makes me anxious. Kennon asked me why. I told him that transitions are hard for me. He explained Bardo—a buddhist concept that, according to Wikipedia, means an intermediate or transitional state. Apparently bar means between and do means island. Kennon explained that the most fundamental transition is the one from life to death. He looked at my denim jacket, and he said, “Consider taking off that jacket and putting on another. Consider that transition. Consider the movement from life to death as being that simple.”
In my drawing class, the instructor spent a whole class period on the concept of negative space—that being the shapes that happen between and around the object you are trying to draw. For instance, if you look at a chair, you see the seat, the back, and the legs. But if you look at the space around and between the chair, you see something else. In drawing the negative space around a chair, you end up drawing a chair.
Tagged with: connection, learning, poem
Another Poem
Here is one more poem by Guri Andermann.
I love the line—“the way scarecrows are nailed up against blue skies.” While I originally interpreted this poem to be about mental break down—this time reading it, I thought about the steady decline of anything. The poem, to me, is a great companion piece to Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” and Anne Sexton’s “Courage.”
BREAKING DOWN
Tagged with: moments, poem, words
Past
In exploring the poetry of my past, I am discovering a part of my writer self that I thought I had lost. I want to find a way to reconnect what I am doing now with what I did then. And it is happening. I just finished one last draft of my novel—now called, tentatively, New Moon Falls. As I revised, I found that part of my writer self from years ago—the part of me that wrote this poem:
Fossil
Tagged with: connection, discovery, poem, process
Poets
When I was 20, I met Guri. She probably had more influence on my young mind than any other person I have known. She introduced me to so much new. We first met as part of a poetry group—all women: Pearl Sarah Bates, Hedy Berman, Nora Stern, Guri Andermann, and me. That group produced a chapbook of poems called “Mother Mountain.” Guri and I lost touch over the years, but with the help of my website, we have reconnected, and in reconnecting with Guri, I am also reconnecting with poetry.
So it is fitting that I offer a poem here—one that Guri wrote—and one that reminds me of what a fine poet she is:
Tagged with: connection, moments, poem, words
"Aren't Us"
September 11th, 2001 has been on my mind lately. I just enrolled in a new drawing class, and so I have been looking through some of my drawing/painting exercises from past art classes, and I came upon pieces I had done in 2001, months before the horrible event. Looking at those dates—May 2001, August 2001—I could not imagine what it felt like to not know what I was about to know.
And the other day, in looking through an old textbook, searching for teaching ideas, I came upon a poem I had never read before:
Tagged with: connection, discovery, poem, truth, words
A poem to center me/you
I cannot find my center. Or so I have been told. I scheduled a session with a chi running instructor so that I could learn to “run without pain”—as the chi running book suggests I can. Chi running is based on the principles of Tai Chi. My “coach” came over yesterday, and we walked down to the Arboretum for our session. He said, “I see by your website that you do not feel centered.” I said, “How did you get that from my website?” He said, “Some story you wrote about not finding home.” Of course, once he said this, I obsessed that my website makes me appear not centered.
In the midst of my uncentered life, I happened to listen to a podcast about Elizabeth Bishop, the poet. Her long time friend, Lloyd Schwartz has put together a new book about her, and that book includes a poem he transcribed from one of her notebooks before she died. I was a bit stunned to learn that she never knew he copied the poem; and now—it is there for all to see. Of course, I wondered about the ethics of his choice until I heard the poem. It is so good. Here it is. For a moment, it centered me. I hope it does the same for you.
Tagged with: center, discovery, poem
Living Room
In the living room
she sits—
In a chair,
the upholstered kind,
old-fashioned with winged arms—
a chair made for conversation
or reading.
A floor lamp illuminates her.
And next to the chair, a red walker
complete with wheels
waits to take her other places.