"This work is unlike any other, in its range of rich, conjuring imagery and its dexterity, its smart voice. Carroll-Hackett doesn’t spare us—but doesn’t save us—she draws a blueprint of power and class with her unflinching pivot: matter-of-fact and tender." —Jan Beatty

Posts tagged ‘animals’

Daily Prompt Catch-Up <3 Vessels, Relentlessness, and Talk in the Night

17 April 2017

Vessel (n.)
c. 1300, “container,” from Old French vessel “container, receptacle, barrel; ship” (12c., Modern French vaisseau) from Late Latin vascellum “small vase or urn,” also “a ship,” alteration of Latin vasculum, diminutive of vas “vessel.” Sense of “ship, boat” is found in English from early 14c. “The association between hollow utensils and boats appears in all languages” [Weekley]. Meaning “canal or duct of the body” (especially for carrying blood) is attested from late 14c.
Make art about a vessel.

urn

18 April 2017
Make art about something relentless, about relentless emotion.

Relentless

19 April 2017
Awake until four in the morning last night, me and the deer, and a lone owl in the oak outside the window.
Make art about a conversations in the night, about how the night talks to you.

owl

Daily Prompt Love <3 What I Found in the Wild 

5 April 2017

My company this morning ❤ 

Make art about the comfort of wild things. 

hawk

 

Daily Prompt Love <3 The Wild in You

Feral: ˈferəl,ˈfirəl/

adjective

Df: (especially of an animal) in a wild state, especially after escape from captivity or domestication.

Make art about wildness, about being in a state of wildness, about escaping domestication.

feral-cats

Daily Prompt Catch-Up! Storms, and Shrines, and What We Can Learn <3

10/4/2016

I grew up in Hurricane Alley, eastern North Carolina, so the preparation for these big storms is something I learned early. Hurricane Matthew has ripped through Haiti, and is on his way to the US East Coast. All my provisions are laid in, flashlights and emergency equipment in place and ready, and I’ve battened down as much as I can. But sometimes Mama Nature’s just too big and unpredictable for any kind of preparation.

Make art about preparing the best you can.

hurricane-preparation-checklist

10/5/2016

Thinking a lot today about all the ways people find their way to, or demonstrate faith. Took me immediately to one of my top three favorite songs, The Mountain, by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer.

Excerpted Lyrics by Dave Carter

Some build temples and some find altars,
some come in tall hats and robes spun fine.
Some in rags, some in gemstone halters,
some push the pegs back in line.

I see the mountain, the mountain comes to me,
I see the mountain and that is all I see.

Make art about temples or altars or shrines, faith in some unexpected way.

 

10/6/2016

Road Angel Andrea at Walmart today told me about her grandmama teaching her to sew, first by making curtains, long straight hems, she said, over and over again, summer curtains, winter curtains with their heavy lining. She said her grandmama was patient but tough, making her tear out crooked stitches, and try again til she got it right. “I learned to take my time,” she said. “I learned to take my time, look ahead of the foot, and how a pair of curtains can make all the difference in a room.”

Make art about curtains. Or about what you learned from an elder.

my-curtains

 

Daily Prompt Love! <3 Cooking and What Woke You :-)

 

11 August 2016

Spent all day canning and preserving food. Always takes me back into the company of all those over time who did this before me, especially the women who taught me, as a child, to can and put up food for the winter.

Make art about food as heritage.

child cooking

12 August 2016

Was abruptly awakened by a crow at the window, informing me—loudly–that the suet cages needed filling 🙂

Make art about being awakened suddenly.

crow

Daily Prompt <3 What We Love

 

Happy National Poetry Month! Another favorite poet, the amazing Amy Tudor. 🙂 ❤ 

What We Love

Amy Tudor
I walk my old dog down a street called Holiday,
past trees whose white bark is trimmed with silver
in the light rain of early Spring. The dog’s small heart
is failing and the vet’s said he shouldn’t be out,
but if we walk slowly he can go four or five squares 
of sidewalk, then I let him stop and rest. 

He puts his nose up into the cool air, the wind ruffling 
his black and white coat and the gray on his ears, 
the wind smoothing over him. When he can’t go 
any further (halfway past that lovely ocre-colored house 
in my neighborhood, the one that’s half-hidden by linden 
and guarded by an iron gate), I carry him against my chest.

One day a black lab stood at a driveway gate
and barked at us as we passed.  My old dog 
looked from beneath half-lidded eyes and didn’t answer, 
and finally the other dog’s owner, an older man,
came out the screen door and called the dog to come back.  
The dog rose from where he sat, a hind leg dragging 
and his right-front hitched as he moved toward the house.  
I watched it go.  The man looked at me holding 
my old dog against my chest.  The man smiled.  
He raised a hand, half-greeting, half-regret.

I should say here that I know the rules I’m breaking.
I was told years ago that poets shouldn’t waste 
their time on trivial  things like dying pets. 
“It’s been done, and done, and done to death,”
a friend once said.  And it has, sure 
as death’s been done and done and done to death. 

So I’ll make a deal with you– forget 
what I’ve said about my dog in my arms, 
his nose in the air, the wind like hands.  And forget 
the man and his black lab that limped up 
those brick back steps.  I won’t write about any of that.  
I’ll write a poem about what we love instead. 

What we love is a night and a house 
wreathed with linden, the dark kept outside 
a circle of light over an iron gate.  It’s fine 
as silver paper or the wind of early Spring.  
What we love is a tree that grows outside our window 
as we grow inside its panes, a small good thing 
we bring home – or that follows us there — one day.  
Then it’s a friend that walks with us, gentle 
and welcome as rain.  It’s what we call to us to come 
when darkness is coming, and it’s what tends us, 
and what we tend. And finally it’s what we carry 
close against us, feeling blessed as we hold it 
and joy for what it gives and has given, 
for the comfort it’s been through hard, heavy days, 
forgiving every burden it’s been, grateful 
for even the grief we must carry when it’s gone, 
that soft, warm, impossible weight.

Make art about what you love.

tenderness

Daily Prompt Catch-Up :-) Anticipation, Animals, and a Little Bit of Messiah Thrown In

Dec 24

Remembering being a little kid breathlessly waiting for Santa 🙂 Make art about anticipation.

Dec 25

Much of the work I did in papers for my Anthropology degree focused on the origins of Judaism and early Christianity, a lot of it centered around belief in a messiah, in messianic traditions. Many religions have a messiah concept, including the Jewish Messiah (from which the term and meaning originates, from the Hebrew in which the word Messiah is identical to the noun and adjectiveמשיח (mashiach), meaning Anointed One, and comes from the Hebrew verbמשח (mashah), meaning to anoint. Other messianic traditions include the Christian Christ( the Greek translation of the Hebrew root word), the Muslim Mahdi and Isa (one of the Arabic names for Jesus), the Buddhist Maitreya, the Hindu Kalki, the Zoroastrian Saoshyant and He whom God shall make manifest in Bábism (believed to be Bahá’u’lláh by Bahais). The state of the world, in most of these traditions, is seen as hopelessly flawed beyond normal human powers of correction, and divine intervention through a specially selected and supported human is seen as necessary.

Make art about saviors. Make art redefining what it might mean to be a savior. Make art about being your own savior.

Dec 26

Traveling to celebrate with family today. Make art about a family roadtrip.

Dec 27

Watching PBS nature documentaries with my son 🙂  Make art about the candor and ingenuity of animals.

baby bear

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