Wednesday, October 17, 2012

What is an Epistolarium?

Was asked by Theresa at The Letter Project to consider the epistolarium. Monday morning I ranted: Try reading it with one breath.

1
Episolarium Rant

A room with a view
solarium, aquarium, agrarian
Place where ideas grow
weave, weft, hook
Paper words
between people
More practical than missiles
or pistols
Plural, equal, altered
born, hatched, spawned
missives.
Epistolarium ovarian
women words
organic shapes
Victorian? Matissian?
hothouse determination
Uprising of letters
an anti-Lariam, epistolarium
a community
of eco egos
Epicenter of postal prodding
to the edges of knowing and beyond

This morning the epistolarium woke me up. 



2
Epistolarium of my mind

Waking me
shaking me
sheet-shimmying me

Levitating liberating
translating my days

Hemisphere within

letters hanging
words colliding
form-finding
sound-binding

Winking smiling
Spinning its trance



A monotype  made on a mirror (Akua Kolor and Akua Intaglio).




Drawing at Nayland Farm



 Daily pastel drawing.  I'm getting my eye in, noticing the colours more - intune with nature, not even minding that the day is getting shorter.




Thursday, October 4, 2012

word and image ping pong


Nayland Farm from the back 04/10/2012


My Punctuation

The glissading hull to our Somes Sound buoy,
man-boy gaff hooking the bow to the picturesque scene.

Apple-bobbing down the aisles of the orchard,
Lifting perfect windfalls from their beds of grass.

Fingers of arthritic trees sparkling in squares around fields.
Granite till underfoot . How loud thawing is.

A red tulip’s imperfect navigation as it rises
through the middle of wooden tangles, surprising the taupe of life.

Rebecca Moss Guyver
27 September, 2012

Have been doing what I do with kids, visual and word ping pong.  Reading, drawing, painting, writing and again.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Now that they're all gone: let's begin


NOW THAT THEY’RE  ALL GONE: LETS BEGIN

Before shaking, cajoling,
wrestling the key
in the studio lock,
get the gesso
and paint a wide streak
down the laundry pile.
Use that erasure brush
so the heaving basket
disappears.

Don’t notice the dishes;
forgo the broom;
avoid eye contact
with the flowers that droop
their pollen in tears
on the kitchen table.

Pause before stepping
into this other room.
Try! Unlearn the duty
you’ve spelt in your sleep.
Unhook its badge!
Delicately rest its body
in a velvet box
hidden in a sock.

Rebecca Guyver
25 September, 2012