This is another from last night's late Daily Walk; today we went at a more sensible hour and the light was pretty boring. I am struggling with Christmas present-ing; the family tradition seems to have developed (I don't remember how) that people tell other people what they want for themselves. This seems like a pretty boring, if perhaps useful, method; I think I will try to get it changed for next year. Wish me luck!
One nice thing about Christmas is that I have gotten memory-thread emails from people I never see any more, often because they have moved. Or because S & I split our time between three places and miss birdwalk, or sketching or haiku meeting opportunities in the places we are not. Today I heard from the person I began to bird with, and we had a nice little ping-pong of emails.
(Does one add "s" for the plural??)
Tonight, another poem from Hilda Morley's To Hold in My Hand
(see previous posts) on pages 33 & 34.
Matisse: The Red Studio
for Claire Moore
What is delightful in The Red
Studio is that air of suspended
space moving in unbroken
curves with the eye travelling
as Matisse wished it
around
and free and in a continual
flight but at the same time with
an assurance nothing
can shatter
What is free here is not
the eye only
not space only, but our-
selves swerving & shifting,
a sense of gravity
that's root and stumbling-block also
There's no one in
the studio & yet each object
is known and lived
& every possible
displacement taken care of,
each hollow
sudden in the curvature
of space accepted
as on this April 22nd
the blackbird's voice disturbs
the rounding of the air
and in that drop we learn the broken
shape,
the gull's
spurt over the water,
his slanted
edge of wing
inside the light
complaining
NEW YORK, 1959
Again, our well-placed ampersand; & such an lovely placement of words on the page.
Today (almost gone) is 12/12/2013! And I am within sight of my goal of posting every day for one year.
I have learned a lot; it's had unexpected rewards for me.
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