clockwise...

i started a new 'maids' portrait last night. i miss my ladies too much. i rushed to the studio this morning- scrubbing paint in to the canvas by 6am. i feel happy again. not lonely, not needing, not anything other than complete. i think this is the new series of paintings i've been waiting for, been trying to hunt down amid all the false starts. there's just something in this work - in particular - that i am drawn to in a way that's hard to explain... an acceptance of, a wrestling with, history... my history, my mother's and grandmother's history... that is cleansing somehow... unexpectedly calming. i guess that's the magic of learning your lineage.

and so for the last 4 hours, i've been at work. i'm giving the canvas a rest now and myself too.

i forgot to post a poem for National Poetry Month yesterday but i suppose that's alright. there is such a thing as too much poetry, i suppose, and it's definitely not something i want to sour myself on. for me, poetry has always followed certain moods, certain shifts in the light... it's not an everyday thing. and the last thing i'd want is to make poetry seem 'everyday'. nevertheless, i'm glad there is a national poetry month and i do intend to take advantage of it. :) on that note, i'll be brave again today and share one of my own that i've been working on. it might be finished, it might not be. it's so hard to tell. and as always, critique is more than welcome: i've got strong shoulders. :)


clockwise, counting...


she goes clockwise,
messy hair and
stained everything.

she doesn't keep up with the housework like she should,
going clockwise and all.

she keeps turning around.
something in the corner is scaring her.
there's a man saying her name.
she sticks her head under the couch.

clockwise, she is counting
her found quarters.

a man says her name.
she turns around.
there's something in that corner,
counting

she goes clockwise.



-angela simione, 2009