Thursday, 24 April 2008

If wishing helped…


During a conversation with friends about the shadow M.E. casts with its temperamental hold on our physical and mental energies we came upon this question: Now that everything is slowed and pared down and we seem at times to be in an almost eerie state of suspense –- should we accept this as life or should we feel that life will really only start (again) when we are better, even well. It’s a fine line to tread. For me it is important to not allow illness to take over my life, to strive to get better, to project into a future, but also to accept this as part of who I am, now. Denial would be as counterproductive as resignation. We do need to live now, this is it, this is life, with or without energy, every day. During the days when brushing one’s teeth or pulling up the blinds or reading an e-mail seems an accomplishment it can be difficult to hold on to a positive sense of self, one beyond illness. The fatigue can pervade every cell of one’s body, every nook and cranny of one’s brain and the feeling of suspense comes from constantly having to postpone, defer – conversations, walks, meals, creative exploits, whatever. Maybe later. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next year.
Strangely it made me remember something: When I was a child at primary school I wanted to be another girl, Dagmar S., who was in the same form as me. I did not want to be like her, but really wished to be her, as for me she was loveliness and lovability incorporated. I have no idea what she would have made of that had she known. She may well herself have wished to be in somebody else’s shoes.
Today I don’t wish to slip into another person’s skin, but when abjection catches hold of me during extremely exhausted periods I find it difficult to see myself as a whole. I can’t help feeling untethered, a pod-like thing that holds something that might one day emerge. Or not. These periods don’t last long, I’m glad to say and now that writing has taken its delicious place in my life they are diminished further. So yes, the poetry course has started again after the Easterbreak and I’ve had my first really positive criticism, funnily enough for my crocheting girl-poem. Writing that poem felt so good as my visual art and my writing came together, and it made the poem pulsate. I’ve been missing crocheting, several unfinished pieces are scattered around, but as ever focus is of the essence.

6 comments:

nicole meredith, said...

wow, so glad i stumbled onto your blog. as a fellow poet/ crafter/ artist, i can appreciate so much of what you are saying (at least, the parts of it i have energy to read!! heh.) it's so refreshing to find someone in this particular web-world with a similar struggle to mine - thank you. so glad you shared the crocheting poem - i'm constantly teasing that same intersection where art , poetry (and illness, really) intersect. rock on.

address to a poem of mine (attached to zero pressure for you to read it):
http://www.hotelstgeorgepress.com/library/
06fall/web/content/whistle.shtml

xx.nicole

redredday said...

hey there. wondering what you're doing right now...
the red spoon i am working on is exactly the same color as your mask shown in the picture. imagine we were working on the same color thread at the same time... :).

something about your mask makes me sad though. the eyes? no mouth? tentacles feel heavy. such large openings for the eyes yet none for the voice? constantly observing and taking in...hopefully, there is some outlet through the many tentacles...

Marjojo said...

As so often behind with answering - Nicole, will look you up soon and find your poem, Mien, red spoons, hmmm..., you got me thinking about the kind of food one would eat from a red spoon and if it's colour would affect the taste...

lasuza said...

Oh yes Marjojo great comment about the colours and the state- makes me think of this following text which the Dadists and surrealists all experimented with about one sense leading to another from eye to taste to sound to touch.....


Synesthesia is also know as 'sense transfer'. 'Cross-modal plasticity' is one of the most natural elements for all human artistic forms of creation. Synesthesia and art coexist (think with the senses, feel with the mind). Synesthesia is what makes art possible. Synesthesia and cross-modal plasticity is fundamental to human experience. Nothing in this world exists, isolated from everything else. In life everything overlaps and merges (a great undivided multiplicity is always at work). Through the interaction of our senses we are constantly engaged in a dialogue with the world. Perception is a synesthetical gestalt.

lasuza said...

ok I meant to write - great comment about the colours and the taste!!!!

Cally said...

jumping around picking out a few posts to read before i get too tired... and then i see this one.

this is exactly what i've been thinking about, over and over and over all weekend.

(great piece too, i want to see you swimming with it)