peony, oxeye daisy, foliage and rose.
i practice their names like i practice how to breathe
without you. i smell you still upon the covers, upon my skin.
citrus, moss and burnt wood. your magic seeped under
my skin into the blood. hypnotising my senses and made
me light, made me forgetful and soft. no regrets.
i only wish, i had kept my eyes open in order to see your guise slip
like a big blousy peony petal to the earth.
let me embrace the orange fish. the orange fish compliments my dress.
compliments my wanting lips and heart, much better, much softer than you.
as i hold my heart in haste and protection, let me embrace something that is willing
more open to my grace than you. i thought i made myself clear, i’m not here to
stare into cold glass eyes, twisted thoughts and warps hands and heart.
let the wind blow through my hair and take all promises of you away too.
the rooms may be empty but this orange fish will make me warmer,
stuck in the dark, you ruminate over what went wrong.
did you give too much in too little time?
did you show your soul too soon, too full?
stop. you will never know his being, his concealment.
his omission. grieve if you must. but it is his loss.
you are still full, still sweet, still in control
of the cake, the knife, your heart.
listen to your heart. allow the serpent to wrap itself around you.
there’s danger yes, risk. but also joy and pleasure to have.
let go, don’t hold on to tight. let the apples fall where they fall.
just savour the h=juicy connection, the meeting of bodies and mind.
be your full self. it is them who cannot not handle your full heart.
the rot is theirs not yours.
Ohhh I love coming on here and sharing goodness.
I had the pleasure of talking to Eleanor Cheetham from The Wildheart Papers on their podcast Feral Words last week.
It was so good to have a deep dive into my practice, my work around fugitivity and refusing to perpetuate white supremacy culture. And it was all welcome at Feral Words. Nothing off limits and it was so liberating to try and make sense of all the concepts and ideas and feelings that are circulating within and without of me at the moment in time. A very disturbing time.
Writing as Resistance, Reclamation and Ritual, is the episode.
I’d like to thanks Eleanor for again holding space for me and my creations with care, grace and joy.
Here’s the link for the podcast . Please take a minute when you get a minute or two.
And also check out The Wildheart Papers here on Substack too.
The second time I went to see Sinners, again it was fitting it in before going away somewhere else. But I knew I had to see it again.
A different cinema, and much fuller this time. I was sat between two black women out for one of theirs birthday’s and a white couple.
The black women introduced themselves to me. Something that has never happened before to me in the pictures. I thought it was a lovely gesture. It meant I could also tell them that they were in for a treat.
Again I got lost in the world of Sinners. Even thought I’d seen it before, I still jumped at the frightening bits. And I say frightening bits, the bits that are in there to make you jump. There’s blood but most of time the biting by the vampires is done off screen or you see it from behind and hear the noises.
I love this movie for so many reasons but I think the first thing is how Coogler plays with the genres and conventions and expectations. This is a mixture of genres ; horror, action, romance, musical etc. Coogler takes creative liberties with what’s gone before to create something rich, unique and full.
I love how this is a massive permission slip to any creative to go with their own flow. Bring in all the possibilities you want to express your point. It applies to the Creatrix in me because when the energy flows, when I’m in the zone and listening, the creations knows no boundaries or limits or rules. It just be.
Sinners is just that. And more. It’s layered , culturally and spiritually explorative and travels through time and space with music as the connection.
This second viewing of Sinners was important because for the first viewing, I had to rush off into try dark and catch a bus, therefore missing the multiple endings. So this time, I stayed put and also told those around who were fixing to leave, ‘there’s more.’
I’m not going to spoil the film for you by telling you what happens in the multiple endings but please don’t leave until the very end. Even if the lights come up, hang on in there to the very end. Even if they’re coming in to clean up after you, hang on in there to the very ends.
Kiwi, my love. Let’s celebrate the love we have for each other.
Just over a year together and we have been places. Seen the seas,
oceans, mountains and streams. Moonrise and sunrise, we have
witnessed with each other. Thank you my love, for allowing me to ride by your side.
We’ve both seen some years play upon our bodies. We are both
worn and rusted. Speed will hear us protest loudly, as we ricket
over potholes and obstacles. But neither stop us.
I’m learning to read your sounds, your warnings. Creaking while
stationary, rocking to and fro when I walk within you, and then
you roll back. Handbrake on truly on.
Rattling while climbing a hill, crawling almost on out knees, slip
back down a gear and then we cruise. I hear you humming,
singing all the tarmac and I feel your joy, matching mine.
Kiwi, little sage in colour. My love. Maybe this is a colour I would
never have fallen in love with. Too pale, too fickle. And yet on
you, I accept it all. Got a lot of extra paint to touch you up when
you fall and scratch yourself. Of rather me. I’m sorry about that
lamppost. To be fair, I couldn’t see it around your fat arse. But I love
your behind, your front, your sides and all.
I love everything about you Kiwi, because I think through our time
together and I adventures, base and far, I have learnt out to
navigate this big and ugly and brutal world with you. And
because of our partnership, I have grown in confidence and wisdom.
Daily, when we go outside to there, as one my love, I learn how
to appreciate the beauty of this world, once more.
And I can only thank you for this realisation.
Thank you Kiwi.
Morning routine done. Still completing my rituals before I greet the world.
Decided to add 2 more to the list so I can complete some stuff I want and don’t want to do this month.
One is to continue to add to my wall for my fugitivity essay. Two, tackle one task per day for completion of my counselling skills course.
Guess which task is the one I don’t want to do?
Completed reading the ebook, In the Cut by Susanna Moore. And I’m not going to spoil it for you but I just didn’t see the ending coming. I was reading this after reading an article with Susanna Moore speaking with Allison P. Davis and it was exploring writing about sex and murder. Somethings I’m considering writing about. So I thought I better read the novel. Let’s just say it’s an interesting read and I think I was expecting more sex! Call me greedy!
Went out for a walk and was remembering my drive home yesterday in the sunshine. Reminded of how being with Kiwi, and our on adventures is my happy place. More!
Returned home and forgot to post some stuff so had to go back out. And Tynemouth is heaving today because the sun is out and it’s the weekend and it’s station market day. I tend to avoid the crowds at the coast and head in the opposite direction but today I did not mind the people as I felt like I belonged.
Not belonged here. But belonged within my body.
There’s a difference.
twinkling fairy lights
frosted furry branches
a moment of quiet and bliss
Living Wild Studios 