A Second Poetry Collection, Blue

 

I've written a book. My second. And in a way, the writing of a book is easier for me than asking for anyone to read or buy it. However, a great deal of energy goes into the making of a book and not all of the energy is mine.

To honour those people who are the subjects of the writing, to honour those who are affected directly by the writing, to honour others who suffer from depression or who love and support those who suffer from depression, to honour the writers who have already spent time with the book and endorsed it (Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, John Sibley Williams, Emily Tristan Jones and Barton Smock), and to honour my publisher (Jean Huets) who has believed in this work, I take this moment to share with you this newest poetry collection that is forthcoming in October of this year from Circling Rivers, Blue.

Blue is a journey of grief and healing, hope and determination. It is the record of a child (my son) moving through depression toward adulthood, and a mother's love, her need to redeem that which wounds.

Closer to publication, I hope to share some audio of the poems with you and perhaps (I hope hope hope) a piece of music written by my son with the collection Blue in mind.

If you purchase (pre-order available now in the U.S. and Canada) the book, thank you. If you read the book, thank you. If you hear the book, receive the book, my deepest gratitude and tenderest understanding — in this way, we are not alone.

  

(*Cover art, Blue Heart, Kathleen Loe. If you'd like to touch base, you can reach me at thetinyleaf@gmail.com)

thinking silence

 "When everything happens at once, no conflicts can occur."

from Hayden Carruth's "Of Distress Being Humiliated by the Classical Chinese Poets"

thinking of Morandi's bottles (and Charles Wright)

"Our lives, it turns out, are still-lifes, glass bottles and fruit,

Dead animals, flowers, 

  

                                the edges of this and that

Which drop off, most often, to indeterminate vacancy.

We're beautiful, and hung up to dry...

 

We don't know what counts—

It's as simple as that, isn't it,

                                             we just don't know what counts."

Charles Wright

from "Body and Soul"

the gift

 

that which is small is not small

a persistence of colour

 

My intention in photographing the trillium was to get close to white on white, engage with a disappearance. And yet, here, with the trillium, a day after spending time with the works of Rothko, I can't help but be mesmerized by the ethereal nature, yet stubbornness of this colour.

“The recipe of a work of art – its ingredients – how to make it -the formula.

1. There must be a clear preoccupation with death – intimations of mortality…Tragic art, romantic art, etc., deals with the knowledge of death.
2. Sensuality. Our basis of being concrete about the world. it is a lustful relationship to things that exist.
3. Tension. Either conflict or curbed desire.
4. Irony. This is a modern ingredient – the self-effacement and examination by which a man for instant can go on to something else.
5. Wit and play…for the human element.
6. The ephemeral and chance…for the human element.
7. Hope.10% to make the tragic concept more endurable. I measure these ingredients very carefully when I paint a picture. It is always the form that follows these elements and the picture results from the proportions of these elements.”

M.Rothko’s „Address to Pratt Institute”, November, 1958.