Between Was and Will Be, I am. Raku, hand made, slab built clay torso by Tammy Vitale.
I forgot to post I Am yesterday, which is fine. I have her to post today. Only I couldn’t remember her name. Maybe it’s not her true name and maybe I shouldn’t put it on her back, but she’s going to Cambridge so I guess she better make up her mind soon what her true name is!
Her name comes from a poem I wrote back when I was writing poetry. I have a published chapbook, Shift, which you can get from Amazon, in case you’s like to see more. You can see a review of Shift by Grace Cavalieri in the Montserrat Review and there are a few reviews at Amazon. Here’s the poem:
What the Dragon Said
Tammy Vitale, 12/17/97
There is mercy here: in the space between
was and will be, I am.
My dreams are full; small creatures
colored brown soil, white rock, red
clay wish to kill me. I am always
running, and the angles are always
wrong. I fall down; blue blood trickles
into red water. Something
unseen joins the parade, clicking
flat teeth together like castanets.
In the morning I bake bread. This is
a different story; I take it from a different
time. Outside the trees are slick
as black eels – water does that –
rain, tears, storms that end
and don’t end. Even the stones
white as doves, bright as
peacocks, feathers, have their part.
I dropped some shiny along the path,
token markers for the game, but children
took them home, saved them in dusty
corners. Not returning, I remain.
If I were a bear, I would sleep with no dreams, lulled
by the obsidian crow’s raw song. The stones
would return, gather round me, speak of moist
earth, red fire, blue ice. Instead, awake, I roll
the last two in my palm, think of small potatoes, sugar
crystals, eyes. This place is made of stones
staying still, falling down. It measures
time the same way that stars do. Yesterday
I learned of Riverkeepers who hear the river’s story,
know her voice so well they can take words
from her mouth and speak to the deaf
who can only imagine the sound of stones.
Then, I rediscovered swimming; learned
how one sweats, even in cool water.
There is a time when I think I must drown, but
breath comes. Mercy has a cost.
Here’s today’s Creation for the day for Kat’s Paws month of creativity (to see everyone who’s doing this, click on One A Day in the upper left column here and go browse…You’ll most definitely want to see her butterfly woman…and after seeing it, I need to push myself a bit.) This one named itself Hope Rising. I’m still waiting for my new batch of watercolors and am constrained by the 3 primaries I have.
Enjoy!
thought for the day: Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music – the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. forget yourself. Henry Miller
1 Comment
Henry Miller always lifts me up. Your bright primary colors seem like an exclamation mark on his quote!