Author: isobel cunningham
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And that is OK. I had a hard time entering the blog the day before. It’s a bit frustrating to have an idea and to have to wrestle to get it out. Studying today for a tour in Contemporary Art this afternoon at the Museum. I am going to look at two works by Jim…
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The lilacs of sweet fragrant glory are fading, are falling. and Spring that seduced us with its ancient glory is fading, is falling. The lilacs, once glowing, once perfumed are fading, are falling. The pink and the purple, the blooms that are doomed are fading, are falling. And apple, its pink-faced…
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Picked carelessly from the hedge a stem that stood up above the rest. I twirled it round as I stood look-out for the yellow bus that carries them by so I can blow a kiss and wave Before the school day shadows them and says ,”behave.” And as I waited, listening for some bird…
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A cardinal family in a fir tree Was enjoying a damp misty morning When a visitor came, “Oh, dear, who is he?” said the Mum bird, “Do look dear, as I am just warming a nice bit of worm for the little ones, three and I can’t be disturbed when I’m making the tea.”…
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May day, grey day Cold day, old day of dreams Spring day, ring day of the bell to begin day. Of taking out the trash bin of shedding the snakeskin of clearing out the cupboard, standing on the diving board, of plunging into this. Poetry day, writing day, fighting day, fighting with laziness, with stress,…
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The encyclopedia (let’s be honest, Wikapedia) says that ferns in some form have existed for 200 million years but that ferns as we know them have existed for 120 million years. Boy, what a relief. I mean, 120 million years. That’s OK then. Come on,guys, even 1000 years is hard to envision as real…
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Green and pink tulip your firm stem holding up the beautiful bloom. Pink shot with green. How can the stem become a petal? “Look, look,” I say to the girl. “Yes, and look, my brother showed me how to draw a tulip.”
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Gasping over a delicate Faberge dandelion clock of rock crystal, gold, diamonds and asbestos fibre mimicking the fluffy down that we, as children picked and blew away into the careless world. We prepare in our museum to show and to revere the skill, the value and the beauty of this…
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When I was a child heavy machinery ruled our town. My father, my uncles, our neighbours, worked in the steel mill. Our area was full of coal mines, iron mines, slate quarries, ports. The world of work, the man’s world was the world of heavy industry, of machines. On the way to Canada during…
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Well, Dylan, it’s all very well to talk about raging against the dying of the light. Rage away if you like. Drink away if you must but we know Light must die. My experience is that raging makes the light flicker, flare up or gutter down. You were urging your father to resist,…
