Spring

Playing with my stabilo woodies!

| Sheree

I went straight into the fun today in one of my creative sketchbooks.

And it all came from a colour. A colour I created when prepping my pages for my visual journaling practice this morning.

Lemon yellow and sap green came together on the page to create a golden green colour that I wanted to explore more.

So I smeared it into my creative sketchbook and went from there. I’d seen Enas Satir’s Daloka- Girls’- songs pottery series and they made me smile.

Their facial expressions and just the black and white starkness of them.

So I took a smile and nose from there to create this piece which when I look at it, makes me smile.

Hey I’m all for sharing smiles, with those who see me and smile back!

The End – Day 30

| Sheree

I might also be forgiving if you don’t write every day. I drafted these essays in half an hour. There was something very pleasant about that—to have a little exercise. It’s not like you’re trying to write the best thing in the world. 
—Ross Gay

These past 30 days have flown by. If I’d stopped and really thought about it before this month, I probably would have talked myself out of writing a poem a day. I’d been in a dry spell and not reallly doing anything to be inspired.

I’m glad I didn’t give myself any time or space to think about it as I’ve so enjoyed this challenge. And as the quote says, I wasn’t trying to write the best poems in the world. I was just trying to write and enjoy it again.

So mission accomplished.

The final task for the month is to look over the creations and to see if there’s any themes or connections to pull them into some kind of whole. It doesn’t have to include everyone. But if it was going to be a collection what would the title be?

Initial thoughts – something that includes ‘Blossom’ as it’s been a reoccurring image/ focus I think throughout the month. Just saying ‘Blossom’ reminds me of a black and white movie I watch with my mum one Sunday afternoon when I was a kid. And it was about a Welsh mining village and a black man comes to work there. Of course there’s a pit accident and the black man is killed saving the others, if I remember rightly. Anyway the black man would say ‘ Blossom’ but like ‘Blossssooomm’ really exaggerating it.

I must find out what that film was called. Hold on …

Nah, can’t find it. Found Proud Valley with Paul Robson but I don’t think it was that. But I think there was singing in it. Does this mean I have to watch the film to see if he says ‘blossom’ in it?

Blossom is only here for a short time and I don’t want to waste that time on a black and white movie when I could be enjoying the delicate textured colours of real blossom.

So the title of the poems form the month would be titled: when lush becomes blossom

That will do for now.

Blossom Diptych – Day 26

| Sheree

1.

Blink twice and I miss you. Not wanting to make this mistake again, I watch for your arrival. Then once here, bask in your delicate beauty. Each bursting cluster unique. Soft and curled petals, blush and flush, fuchsia, rose, and pink.

I pray for the wind to stay away, to go away as with each gust you are forced to separate from your centre pistil and disperse like confetti. Floating upon the air to land anywhere. And then it’s over for another year. Short-lived gone in the wind.

2.

Each year you return with an open palm, gentle and vulnerable. I see you watching me. I wait for my time. I put on a display of tight fisted pink buds as a promise. A promise that soon comes. To blaze in my glory is a gift I cherish. As soon gone. Drifting off in the wind to become more in time.

Still/ Just Writing Out – Day 25

| Sheree

Going down is the sun. Still warmth to be had. Precious.

Let me sit in its grace and give thanks. A moment. Spring.

Blossom. Lambs. They look at me as if they want to say something.

Make a connection. I see you and you see me.

Running after mum, grabbing at her teat. Kids.

Always demanding something. Mine are both beautiful

inside and outside. I say this all the time. But what do I mean?

I take no credit in their beings.These birds are singing out

their lives, building nests before they can rest.

But when do you ever rest once you have kids?

What a worry. What a responsibility.

Yet, they have forced me to grow. To step into this thing called

mothering. Like a pink bud, still clinched like a fist, there is more

to learn upon this journey.

Sakura – Day 16

| Sheree

At the tail end of winter,

loaded with blousy, pink,

double flowers with frilly edges,

are Japanese blooming cherry

trees. At mere sight,

I become mooncalf,

mooning over their delicate

blooms. Reborn.

For a few weeks at least,

hope trembles through

the boughs.

The present moment

like each pink, soft cluster,

is cherished.

Couplets – Open Heart – Day 12

| Sheree

Feel the breeze through the trees. Even the leaves strive

to stay alive. The energy is flowing through you, my love.

Pause and feel its spinning. The way of this world , freedom

is for the taking with every breath, linger

in the outside, the black outside while still enclosed within,

for now.

A Field Guide to Sheree – Day 2

| Sheree

Commonly known as Sheree, with the scientific name being Nigtum Deam, found mostly within coastal areas, regularly at sea.

She is able to listen with attention and sometimes offers unwarranted advise. Her heart is in the right place.

She thrives in green humid spaces, on mountain sides in solitude, often retreating to Scottish glens to laugh at the moon.

She starts to pale and fade in monotonous, negative climates where light is limited and restricted.

She can be lured by white chocolate lattes and any variety of breads. At which point, she will shift into the pleasure zone, all petals opening to receive joys with a smile.

Try to praise this chaotic world – Day 1

| Sheree

after Adam Zagajewski, translated by Clare Cavanagh

Try to praise this chaotic world,
as the first of April dawns fresh,
with welcome light, and slight breeze of delight.
The blossom is waiting to bloom
as the fruit trees inch towards the sky.
You must praise this chaotic world.
You must keep hope when things go awry
while those few, usually white and male,
act like stewards for all humankind, communities
they have very little contact with
let alone care about.
You should praise the chaotic world.
Remember you are not alone, within you
are generations of people who have been here before.
Who did not moan or falter but protested.
They survived so we could thrive
in companionship with the trees,
seas, hummingbirds and ferns.
Praise the chaotic world
and the chance to emerge
as Spring light has returned
after when we think that all was lost.