Love the objects
in your care, and hold them
dear, for who objects
to love, cares
Recently Banned Literature, September 20, 2014
I see objects much as I see words. They demand a harmony of arrangement, a certain space around them, and this in turn relates to the larger space in which they’re contained. A room is a page. A word is a hat, vase, or ashtray. My success in meeting this demand varies. I have good days, I have bad. And then I remember how a forest is related to the sky, the ocean to a vast life underground, wisdom to the heart, silence to chaos. I pick up an object. I set it down. It’s part of a song, a poem.
Recently Banned Literature, December 1, 2010
I Love the Little Chores
I love the little chores, and think not a one beneath me. Dishes, dusting, washing, sweeping, wiping, cleaning. Indoors. Outdoors. Rooftop. Windows. Garden. Gutters. Worn out rugs. Scratched floors. Blinds. Corners. Each says, “You are here. You are lucky. You have food. You have shelter. You have shade. You have warmth.” I commune with keepsakes. I admire the wear and tear on our old family silverware, the chips in everyday cups my parents used and that we still do. To me, housework is a time to marvel at the beautiful, mysterious lives of what are thought of by many as “ordinary objects.” It is not a job to do, but one more opportunity to be grateful. I never say, Now I’m writing, Now I’m drawing, Now I’m dreaming, Now I’m cleaning, Now I’m shopping for groceries. I say, Rejoice. Each breath is a poem.
Recently Banned Literature, December 13, 2016