Eyes Full of Language

“Grab the broom of anger and drive off the beast of fear.” —Zora Neale


“Choosing authenticity and worthiness is an absolute act of resistance. Choosing to live and love with our whole hearts is an act of defiance. You’re going to confuse, piss off, and terrify lots of people, including yourself. One minute you’ll pray that the transformation stops, and the next minute you’ll pray that it never ends. You’ll also wonder how you can feel so brave and so afraid at the same time.” —Brene Brown


“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.” ―T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets


“Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of [people]. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts.”
―Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind


“silence is the language of god,
all else is poor translation.”
―Jalaluddin Mevlana Rumi


“Meow” means “woof” in cat.” ―George Carlin


“But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought.” ―George Orwell, 1984


“Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.” ―Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary


“The limits of my language means the limits of my world.” ―Ludwig Wittgenstein


“I like you; your eyes are full of language.”
[Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]”
―Anne Sexton


Gratitudes:
1. Baked oatmeal
2. I did get back to sleep. There was that moment in the night when I ache and wakefulness make me almost leap from the bed. But the recliner soothed me back to sleep
3. Lunch duty. I would have said that the last job I wanted was to be the Watcher in the Gathering Area at lunch. I maybe be an ambivert, but the introverted part of me is made extremely anxious by noise and crowds. It helps to have a task and a plan, and then students have a way of approaching me to make conversation, or standing nearby in circles talking larger than life and glancing my way to see if I am noticing their delightful performances. I get to note who is lonely, who is going out of her way to greet someone who is on the fringe, who is gathering others together.
4. This cat pacing behind me like a sentry. (Oops! It’s because the food bowl is empty–I’ll have to remedy that.)
5. Stories.

May we walk in Beauty!

Gratitude and a Rule for Parenting

Gratitude List:
1. Glorious Lady Magnolia tree on 462 across from the Red Rose. Oh goodness! Can a tree be traumatized from witnessing humans kill each other?
2. I changed the cutting head on the string trimmer all by myself. It took a lot of figuring to get the old one off, but I managed.
3. Open House at my school tonight. Nice to spend time with colleagues, and to get a chance to show off the school to prospective families. It was lovely to see a few students again, too.
4. Baked oatmeal for supper. Comfort food.
5. How doing art makes you see the world differently.

May we walk in Beauty!


A Rule for Parenting:
Never simply say, “Don’t lick your brother’s food.”
You have to also say,
“Don’t tell your brother you licked his food, even if you didn’t. Especially if you didn’t.”
“Don’t lick the packaging that your brother’s food is in.”
“Just don’t lick or talk about licking your brother’s food.”
I probably should have included more permutations, but I was getting just a little cranky (momspeak for VERY GROUCHY). This parenting gig can be hard.


Here’s a found poem. I put it together from strips of paper and glued it to yesterday’s painting. I was loving it, and so I put Mod Podge on it to seal it, but instead it stayed white and gloopy. It was a disaster. I pulled off the pieced and mostly salvaged the painting, but the poem strips were destroyed.

One morning before dawn
in the thick of that month,
the trees still heartrendingly asparkle,
the women’s laughter,
as dark as bitter chocolate,
lodged in the house of
beautiful magnificent wings.

They halted at the woods,

Passage through the wilderness
was not a simple matter
to escape a forest without shade,
We have to ascribe to femaleness
the audacious, the math, the order.

Below, the alligators
are sleeping in the grass
awaiting the rain.

When I look up, you look up,
and we know.

Someone Has Been Walking Here

“We carry ourselves wherever we go and we cannot escape by mere flight.” –Matrona I

P1020483
Some people have been walking here.

Gratitude List:
1. Moonshadows.  Did you see the faeries out there last night?  Such magic.  And this morning, it was starshadows.  Starshadows! (I have not seen the five all strung out in their line, but this morning one was pulsing, twinkling at me through the branches of the walnut and sycamore trees, oh so brightly.)
2. The internet connection that makes it possible for me to see what everybody else’s snow looks like on these snowbound days.
3. Getting the work done.  I’ve got this.
4. Baked Oatmeal.  It’s what’s for breakfast.  (Apples in there.)
5. Snow ice cream.  It’s what’s for snack.  (3 cups of snow.  Mix in 1/2 c. sugar, 1 c. milk, and 1 tsp. vanilla.  Add another 2-3 cups of snow.  Serve immediately.)

May we walk in Beauty!