A Gift is A Circle
a gift is a circle
(it is also a leaf, and when particularily lucky, a horse)
by K. (copyright 2007, all rights reserved, and all that jazz)
-1-
the context (or “the beginning”), a letter of explanation, if you will, sir:
so here is a gift…
what comes around goes around-
play it forward, pass it gently. but keep it moving.
there is a backdrop, a rhythm to the birth of things,
these small things, these little gifts brought forth from the waves,
a swell and crash that begins, borne on a small breeze and through my ear…
coaxes open trapdoors where foundlings shelter,
warm and tender until brought to breast.
I am thankful for the sounds that till this fertile earth.
that beg these fingers “move“.
tithes are paid, where tithes are due
(poems are more interesting with footnotes, though
you will need to write them yourself, not everything is given, sir,
eg. footnote 1: look it up if you don’t know the answer!)
cereal box decoders take ye up a permanent residence.
altered brainwaves or limbic resonance, or whimsy flirting with us all,
broken telephone maybe, each small voice building
until truth is lost, or maybe
just a ghost of it lingers, but it doesn’t matter
(”the beginning” doesn’t matter)
what matters is the circle
and so i circle too (and am lost in it)
so here is a gift…
(when spoken aloud)
-2-
the leaf :
sometimes a gift is offered,
unbidden (insert gasp here)
hands gently cup it, an offer balanced delicately,
carefully constructed, with an attention to it’s weight,
each detail measured, its breath held in anticipation,
a wish in the rhythm of its bloodflow, that takes wing -
falls like a leaf falls – slowly, with the air full beneath it’s body
bearing it lighlty, a whisper that settles on
autumn damp grasses, frost
newly melted by the sleep-muddled sun…
-3-
an aside:
sometimes a gift needs to wait (patience, sir! good things come…)
for the deep and heavy winter snows to melt
before its lightness can be rediscovered
before it can be tucked into
the tight pocket of your heart
(fold it small
for safekeeping.)
-4-
the horse:
We ignore the old proverbs, (We know better, ha!)
look stealthily over our shoulder,
open the horse’s mouth and count his teeth
(isn’t this what the world taught us, what it brought us, isn’t it? well?)
silently mark the ones that are worn with age and suspicion
clench our own jaws, snap them shut,
(sorry ma’am, we are no longer open for business)
hunt out the festering root, the one deeply hidden, concealing
questions that bubble forth, slowly weeping.
we forget altogether the sleek muscled line of his haunches
the wild tangled mane, the softness of his eye,
his strong beating heart…
we forget to feel his breath on our cheek
to inhale the blessing of sweetgrass it holds
(did you know that if you whisper softly,
softly, with longing in your heart, sir,
whisper your heart into one velvet nostril,
he would follow you loyally to the ends of the earth?
that he would carry your heart, the carefully tucked leaf within, bear them safely
cross cold rivers raging, cross aching empty plains…
did the world teach us this too? did we listen as closely?)
-5-
instructions:
remember that leaf, remember that horse
sometimes gifts that begin as a whisper
bubble pure and unhindered from the freshly turned earth,
laugh their way out from under the leaf,
propel the hooves to gallop onwards.
grab onto his tail and he will deliver us!
-6-
the circle:
a gift is a circle. a mouth open in the
“o” of miraculous discovery
it is christmas morning, it is your birth day
when your mother’s arms first found you,
slick and warm, new and ooo so very right,
it is the exact moment you found the warmth
of her round breast.
So I finally found the chemicals that I need to etch my stamp pendants. I had found them at a few places, my jewelry maker supply – but all of my suppliers are state side, and none of them are able to ship hazardous materials across the border. And apparently acids that can eat their way through various metals qualify in that regards – go figure. <sigh>
But, thankfully they are the same chemicals that are used to etch computer boards. Hurray! So I mentioned this to my beloved resident expert of all things technical, who mentioned it to an equally technical friend, and lo and behold I now have a supplier for etchant! Lifesavers, both of them!
I am slightly bummed about being outbid on Ebay on a particularly perfect vintage stamp for my project <grrrr>. However, they seemed to be an avid stamp collector – and I am just a metal artist – and it will likely have a much longer life with its new owner than what I had planned for it. So it all works out in the end, I suppose. I will be using scans of stamps to create the etchings anyways – and I have to graphically alter the so that the correct parts will be in relief as well. I am very excited about these pendants, so I hope that the etchant doesn’t take long to get here. I want to play! And I have such a very clear vision of these pieces, I am eager to have them in tangible form.
Yesterday I went for my first very long walk of the season. Took Miss Molly Ma Gog (my ever happy and loyal black lab) with me for company, and set off to the fields. I sometimes wonder how long you could walk back there before you would actually run in to anything. I think possibly hours. Even when I ride Lyrical, I still cannot see an end, just fields, then trees, then fields, then more trees. Forever and ever. If I got very brave, I suppose one day I could set out and see – but I worry about what might happen if I were to meet with an accident acres and acres away from home, and people not be able to find me. Silly and unlikely, but I worry about things like that now. I guess having your liver kicked straight into your heart can do that to your perception of the safety in the world. I wish it didn’t – and I sometimes dream of being reckless. Not in that suicidal angry way that people who no longer care to live have – but in that innocent childlike way, like when I was a teen and thought that no harm could ever befall me on the back of my trusty pony, and I could pull out all my cowgirl tricks!
So the walk, was beautiful and silent. The silence here in the off season is like no other. Sometimes when the wind is still, and you try very hard to listen, it makes one’s brain uncomfortable how complete and empty that silence is. It is so large, so inescapable. It overwhelms. The neverendingness of the landscape also overwhelms. Fill my chest, spills over. And I come home renewed.
Some pics of recent completed pieces – the promised necklace pics of Mr.Crow #7. (Have you solved his mystery yet?)
And a new photo of last spring’s offering…
A budding birch twig, cast in sterling silver to represent the new hope that spring brings – the rebirth and renewal. The pearl dangle is a symbol of purity – and the innocence of new beginnings…