A Year of Listening: Week 13

Poetry is like a bird; it ignores all frontiers. — Yevgeny Yevtushenko

I am ignoring my guidelines today by not using a quotation from my collection.  Yesterday I had tea and talked about Russian poetry with my son. I searched for this poet whom I read in college.

My practice of listening is enjoying flight.

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A Year of Listening, Week 3

The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time. –Bertrand Russell

One of the original self portraits of the artist as as egg

One of the original self portraits of the artist as as egg

A Year of Listening, Week 2

A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. –Annie Dillard
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section of Dancing at Midnight, textile wall hanging by Norma Colman

2014, A Year of Listening

I like shoveling snow when no one else is stirring, except the snow plow coming up the highway.
Everything is muffled, except the scrapping of the shovel against asphalt, worked out in a rhythm that mirrors the movement of arms, feet, lungs.
I am hoping not to fuel up the snow blower this year, but to work my way through the snow with a shovel. Slowly. Sensibly.

I usually have three focus words for each year. This year I am choosing an activity for my focus. I am listening. My sister asked me “for what?” She needs to ask that later.
To what? Collected words.
Here, every Monday, I am posting a quotation from my collection. I will be listening to those words. The words will be accompanied by one of my art pieces or a sketch, a response to the words.

Come listen with me. Tell me what you hear.

Game Day

Monday was my personal Game Day. I didn’t know that was what I was having until I was 2 hours into it. It started out as the day to sort and rearrange the four file drawers in my work space.

I planned to transform the drawer space from storage into work enhancement.  As I emptied drawers, I discovered my collection of images for inspiration, a folder full of quotations (artistic fuel for me), and some of the designs and patterns I have created over the last 15 years. When I unfolded the sketch of harpies from one of my early pieces, a shape I thought was lost to me, I knew I was playing “I own it, I use it.”

This game is part of my pursuit of enough. I had somehow failed to include my creative designs as part of my studio inventory. This was as silly as forgetting recipes and cook books in the kitchen. I acknowledged this good segment of property. My mind stirred in new directions as I color coded the files for each drawer.

What have you forgotten to include on your “own it” list? How are you going to find it and use it?