welcome

toujours suspendu en l’air

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I’m still here, in mid-air, which is uncannily like a depth, it turns out. In the wrestling match between maintaining a normal pace and slowing down, slowing down has won. And yet now I’m here, I feel strangely at home. I don’t feel the fret of missing out, I’m no longer disappointed, I’m kind of content, and curious, because at other points in my life when I have found myself in this imposed suspension, often something very deep has been at work, beyond my thoughts, words, understanding or control.

So it’s a little bit like I’ve set up tent here, in mid-air, and now find myself delighted. It’s so peculiar; how can I resist it so much and then turn out to be glad? Sometimes I feel like I don’t know myself at all; I can sometimes so little predict my true feelings about things that are in prospect.

I am still playing the piano (although today I didn’t because the neighbour was using the apartment) and writing, but I have seemingly slipped into a complete harmony with quietness and ordinary chores. Small unexciting things are getting done and I’m not feeling lonesome or deprived.

And the deeper stillness means that I’m more aware of the rumblings of movements in unknown places, and this awareness increases my patience because instead of fearing nothing, I can feel something. And what is a creative process for if not to prepare a space to welcome and embrace that?

breath, breathless

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stumble through the doorway
running, it seems I was
though now the old reality
seems distant, though yesterday

catch a breath
a gasp slow motion
exhalation, panic,
gulp another moment
sigh, disordered in
my being,
restless still

racing rat, fraught
thought, fought,
forlåt, what was that?
a tale, though how
you chased it

welcome
you are my guest
arrive, draw in deep,
what’s mine is yours
inhale hopefuless and wonder

my sighs pursue me,
echo the space alarmed
what happened to you?
life

a sweetness as a breeze
rose, orange blossom, peony,
fresh rain on gentled grass
far seas

I am arriving
I am born alive

Note: This is from the studio series inspired by paintings in my studio. The later paintings were written to the tune Divenire by Ludvico Einaudi. I can no longer remember if this one was. This is painted in Rose Madder, Permanent Rose, Cadmium Yellow, Cadmium Orange (all Windsor and Newton Professional) and Light Gold (Rembrandt). In my work these specific orange and yellow paints are indicative of the presence of a kind of fire, an element of the warrior nature. This first painting is the only one to use the fire colours. As if the arrival in the studio was a last breath of fire before the inhale and exhale of a more tender and touching reality.

end of year

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The year is ending.
It is time to say goodbye:

To missed opportunities
(new ones will come),
to old patterns of friendship,
to stages of life
that I may not know have gone forever.

It is time to say thank you
for each delight:

Quiet evenings playing the piano,
noisy evenings with friends,
a new neighbourhood pub,
a delivery of beautiful clothes,
chatter of small children,
wisdom of older relatives.

It is time to ask for forgiveness:

For moments when I did not
reach out a hand of friendship
or of grace.
For sniping comments in asides,
for shortcuts,
and holding backs.

It is a time to let go:

To release expectations of others,
to shake off expectations from myself,
to accept what was not accomplished,
to let tears carry away loss,
to set down burdens of false responsibility
to shed the hopes of the old year.

It is time to turn around:

To open up to new hope,
to summon energy and courage,
to breathe in delight,
to laugh in anticipation.

It is time to welcome:

New adventures, new beginnings,
new people and new seasons of old friendships,
challenges bigger than ourselves,
darkness we must face and overcome,
every opportunity to bring beauty,
to offer kindness,
to overlook a fault.

It is time to step forward:

Into what we do not yet know,
into what we have not yet seen,
into what we maybe glimpse from a distance,
into what we know and long for, or even dread,
into each new day, a gift,

It is time to beckon and embrace
who we will become.

found poem – Brussels, autumn 2014, translation

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The freedom to be yourself.
Welcome! Bienvenue! Wilkom!
Home.
‘Tutu’ pendant light.

Happiness often sneaks in
through a door
you did not know
was open.

For me it’s about being
more than a man.
The flat street lined with poplars, stretched out before them
a fragment of a free universe.

Welcome.
Dream of honey.
Smoking is not allowed in our hotel rooms.
If you do so, you will be fined €150.

Don’t forget to toast me!

To go further.
Haven’t we all the same Father?
Were we not created by one God?

Summon the heroes.
Start each day like it’s your birthday.
Spark joy.

Passing friend, may this visit stay with you as a moment of peace.

Note: The location of this poem in the title was originally ‘city’.  I decided to add the actual location in case it enhanced the reader’s experience.

found poem – Brussels, autumn 2014

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The freedom to be yourself.
Welcome! Bienvenue! Wilkom!
Home.
Suspension “tutu”.

Happiness often sneaks in
through a door
you did not know
was open.

Il s’agit pour moi
d’être plus qu’un homme.
La route plate bordée de peupliers,
étirait devant eux
un fragment du libre univers.

Welcome.
Rêve de miel.
Smoking is not allowed in our hotel rooms.
If you do so, you will be fined €150.

Don’t forget to toast me!

Pour aller plus loin.
N’avons nous pas tous un seul père?
Un seul dieu ne nous a-t-il pas crées?

Summon the heroes.
Start each day like it’s your birthday.
Spark joy.

Ami de passage, que cette visite reste en toi comme un moment de paix.

Notes on locations: Marco Polo store, Made in Louise hotel (MIL), MIL, Max Yamamoto store, MIL, MIL, MIL, Marguerite Yourcenar Park, Grand Synagogue de Bruxelles, Synagogue, Poster for concert, Subdued store, advertisement, sign in Église Notre Dame du Sablon, Brussels.

Note: The location of this poem in the title was originally ‘city’.  I decided to add the actual location in case it enhanced the reader’s experience.