Saturday, August 22, 2009

::looks around::

From September's issue of Poetry:

Motherhood is perfect cover; you an hide away and no one would think to look for you.  You are not a free agent, hence uninteresting.  Your social self is a wraith in memory while your bodily self mucks about with a bairn in an afterlife quarantined to the physical.

This is a perfect description.  In an article entitled "As If Nature Talked Back to Me:  A Notebook" by Ange Mlinko.

I got only as far as this and then my kids needed something.  Perfect for this article, really.  I figured I'd better get this out there, because it should be, and also because we are going to be gone all day today, so I mightn't have a chance to remember.

Memory is a casualty of parenting as well.  When you most want it to be at its strongest.

I hope the article goes into how one can use this invisibility, to watch the world not watching you.  Middle age does the same thing, but with parenting, especially new parents, the watching the world does is at the baby or child.  You are watching too, so it works.  Middle age though, is when one learns to take advantage of being invisible.  The lines on ones face, and the grey sprouting is like Harry's cloak.  Draped over the face, it allows so much.  Not a bad trade off really.

Anyway, off for the day.  Hopefully I will remember to put the issue of Poetry in my purse, and will be able to read it on the drive. 

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Small world this internet

Whilst googling last night on a topic, I can't even remember, I found a series of links that led me to a fellow I almost sort of dated in college.  We hung out then,  I guess you'd call it, what 27 or so years ago.   Anyway, he wrote poetry then, and I discovered last night he still does.  He's had two books of poetry published.  There was an amazon link, so in a few days, I'll be reading what he's written since.

Small world this internet.  And I have to say I'm very curious.  I remember he was a fairly strong poet, complicated images.  He lurked around the poetry people then, and was probably better than all the so called, self proclaimed poets.  But then when you are 21, you can call yourself as you wish.  You probably should.

Anyway, curious.