to make more happiness: repeat
something happened after my mom died: i couldn’t get words out. it felt strange and terrible. i was used to making words appear as readily as my lungs brought breath to my mouth. without words, it seemed i’d forgotten how to breathe. but i wasn’t dead. i hadn’t actually forgotten how to breathe. i had just forgotten how good it felt to take a deep belly breath in, to let it out, nice and slowly, and do it again and again and again. and then it hit me: aha! repetition. something about repetition felt like a beginning, or at least, the place to start. and so i began repeating lines of text, single words, and simple lines strung together to make the shapes of birds sewn meticulously by hand. over and over again: words. sewn lines. words. sewn lines.
the repetition became rest. a kind of meditation. and space. a kind of active contemplation for my hands over a blank page. and it made a kind of quiet. a kind of simplicity and aliveness in which my poet self took flight again in the careful chaos of crossed lines, in running fingers over the same typewriter keys until they filled a page, in seeing out a plan for a piece, and most especially, in leaving room for happy accidents. i was, in essence, doing what so many birds do: trusting instinct. taking flight. finding a place to land.
i hope you find a place to land in this collection, too. or at least, a little bit of quiet, contemplation, or maybe just an impulse to follow your feeling, even if just for a breath or two.
in poetry and gratitude,
all work currently for sale at secession art & design (30th & mission street, san francisco)
join me for the opening reception friday october 25th. and for open studios weekend sat & sun 26th & 27th 11am-8pm. show comes down november 24th.