Archive for the ‘Week 19’ Category
A little late but here it is. Week 19: The Back Rooms of My Mind- Door 7811. I hope you enjoy the craziness from my mind that unfolds onto paper.
Below is the camera, which I mentioned in my last post; family legend has it that during WWII, my grandmother’s brother, a photographer stationed with the Canadian army, removed this camera from a fallen German Soldier. Below the photo is a newer poetic attempt at trying to respond to this artifact and to the photograph of my grandparents frolicking on the shore. I posted this photograph as part of my Week 18 submission.
On tattered Kodak I
Pirouette in the palm
Of my lover’s outstretched hand. It’s
Just a photographic trick
Of perspective and perception and
From the low-angle shot even as
I smile to my future father-in-law
As he photographs us at Fundy Park, it’s
1942 and on another beach
My enlisted brother photographs
Soldiers dancing to dodge bullets
Across this silver puddle. I could
Leap from these hands to the war
He watches develop, bringing
Visible all the images I’ve worked
So hard to ignore.
This weeks geek doesnt really have a title, but if I were to call it something it would be california dreaming
Its a mixed media collage, utilizing paper clippings and oil pastels as the backbone, with some crate paper and glitter making an appearence just for a little extra enhancement
Photo showcased on the bike in LA for good measure, I am definately California Dreamin
Flying lesson 19
The easiest of walks, over the bridge, with a purpose.
The purpose is to buy food, the purpose is to walk.
The food is in itself another purpose, it should be the right type, it should be good, it should make me lift myself up and become balanced in every way.
Choosing it is simple with the help of Stig. Buying it is difficult because he is also the one paying for all the food, even the one we especially choose because it’s good for me.
The difficulty becomes like punctured tyres. Absolutely impossible to use for a lift-off without the risk of serious damages.
Those punctured tyres stem from many years of fear. The fear of not being good enough, valuable enough, capable enough.
Someone else is doing for me what I can not manage myself and without me even asking for this help.
On each item that is purchased for my well being I hang a small invisible label about paying back. I have to make sure that I will cut off all these labels to find my balance, but for now they are happily left dangling. I tell Stig about my discomfort and he replies that I have also paid for food we already ate. I’m trying to focus on this and decide that everything is OK. No fear!
We walk back and on the first uphill slope, on the bridge going home, I immediately pay back with a swifter and longer stride without panting. I am fully concentrating on my debt. The gift that is the cause of the debt, which I have created myself in every moment, becomes a burden. Trust, which previously lifted the sky has been clouded by my dependence. And in that moment, the sky becomes even higher …… I have suddenly become very, very small and everything is unreachably far away. All my defences strike back and drowns everything and everyone who’s close enough.
I believe this fear is handled and hidden just below the surface, just out of sight even for me. However the defences move up, just above the surface, and turn the debt into the most natural walking partner in the world. The one that triggers that little extra, that clenches the jaws together one notch tighter and tightens the dependency snares just a little bit more. Then of course the endorphins kick in as a reward and everything seems quite worth it.
That it isn’t lust dangling it’s carrot in front of me but instead guilt holding the whip and pushing me forward is barely noticeable in the panting and the pace. The ego is the only one who knows.
Despite this we make a fantastic lunch and I put aside my fears for another time.