Posts Tagged ‘memory’

Confession Time

April 9, 2018

I entered college as a poetry major, switched to political science by my junior year because I thought it would be more practical, and ended up not using that degree anyway. I wrote poetry all through college, but gradually drifted into prose. Although I still compose a poem now and again, I think of myself as a novelist. Still, I was considering what I should do to celebrate April in this writing life blog, but couldn’t decide. Here’s where the confession comes in – my friend Patricia Flaherty Pagan of Spider Road Press tagged me in a Facebook post about her anthology In The Questions: Poetry by and about Strong Women. Spider Road Press is running a giveaway on Amazon for the next few days, and Patricia mentioned all of the authors included in the book in her post. Yup, I forgot that I was in the book.

I wish I could say my natural modesty got the better of me, but in truth my little gray cells just misfired. So, to celebrate Poetry Month, here is my poem.

The Matriarchal Elephant

The mirror tells me I am wise.

I have the wrinkles to fit the role,

and the silver hair.

My diaries go back to years

taught in history class.

Ask a question, I will answer,

give opinion,

advice,

admonition.

My life trajectory suited me

for counselor,

consoler,

coach and instructor.

Yet there are days

when I look for the real wise woman,

the matriarchal elephant,

for the mom to save us all.

On those days,

I cover the mirror.

 

Look for the giveaway on the Spider Road Press Facebook page, or you could buy the book immediately and enjoy the other poems now. Happy Poetry Month!

It’s in a safe place

December 15, 2010

This is the time of year I start losing things, especially my memory. I took someone else’s cart in the grocery store, put the cheese with the eggs instead of in the drawer, lost directions that I know I paper clipped to the rest of some documents. It will continue like this for another month or so, even with the colonies of lists marching across the counter.

The latest disappearance came this afternoon, when I decided to pull out the quilt tops I will finish for the guild show in April. One of my friendship groups, The Progressive Party, wants to have a special section for some of our work, so I thought I would choose those tops first. I went to the stack where I knew I had some Progressives waiting. I guess I must have put them in a safe place before the holidays, because they aren’t there now.

At least the latest ones aren’t there now. I did find two small projects tucked away. Luckily, both of them came from rounds that the rest of the group wants to display.

The Progressive Party is a lot like a round robin, but we change the guidelines with each new project. Sometimes that means going from suggested next steps to “use your imagination.” That’s what happened with this project. We all started with the same panels of pots. Each member did something with her panel, put some fabric in a bag that somehow coordinated with her vision of the piece, then sent it off for the rest of the group to work on in turn. This is what became of my pots:

Some days I think the piece needs another border, some days it looks finished. It will be interesting to see what sort of a day it is when I actually start quilting it.

The second project is called “The Uglies Round.” We each brought three ugly fabrics in three separate brown paper bags (with a secret code somewhere on it so we wouldn’t take our own fabric). The bags were tossed in the center of the floor, then we had to scramble for them. This is what I started with:

The very center is made from my three uglies – a dark yellow landscape fabric (it looked like the weeds in my back yard at the end of summer), a sad little pink calico, and a border print that I mitered to make a frame. This is how the group finished the project:

After the holidays, I’ll go through each and every stack of tops until I find the one with the rest of my Progressives. There are two row quilts that I would like to finish, perhaps for the show, perhaps not. In the meantime, I’m seriously thinking of attaching string to everything I pick up, just so I can find it again after I’ve put it down.