Erin Curry- sorting stones unsorted

notes to self during:

thought of cinderella(misled by memory)
meaning vasilissa and psyche sorting the seeds
the tasks of women,
sifting the good from the bad,
the moths from the rice
and uses from others,
flax from oats
poppy from rice
we sort and sift
and hold onto that one careful handful of grain
perfect grey
in the pocket
for the precise moment when it fits



(my watch sits pocketed too)
a tiny tic of impatience
suggests boredom with my task

it passes

shift, shift,

one satisfactory moment followed by another
holding one perfect stone
and then another

a parcel of stones
clitter clack
resonance of the river

where woolf slipped stone upon stone in her (enormous) pockets
and slipped herself in the eddies.
giving up on shifting those slippery words into meaning.
her sorting done.

chaff floating in the breeze

the task lost

*when editing this, grain caught my attention and reminded me of this heart wrenching story recently in the NYTimes . . . at least Vasilissa had her doll.


Liz said...

She finally speaks! And it soft, sweet, and beautiful.

mansuetude said...

this is beautiful. its nice you are back.

why V. Woolf I am thinking; what massive pockets she had, I think her mind (perception/memory/interiority) was the massive pocket.

Maybe her mind tells us, through her words, some of her "ideas" about death and dying... about the burden of brillance; the burden (of PERCEIVING--deeply Through and in-to "language" which perhaps IS constructed world in so many ways)

...the burden of trying to say inward things. [i am rambling]. :) {forgive me}

On sifting... doesn't
Someone need Grace to sort the (psyche)seeds? We can not manage it all with conscious mind.

Soon when if possible read Woolf's "Moments of Being".
She talks about war and planning suicide...and she is alive in her book; all voice.

kate said...

Thank you for taking us on this poetic sorting journey. Sorting is a thing I love to do. It is my way of practising using my gut instead of my head. I love the sounds you have evoked.

lasuza said...

Hooray - you are back!

Erin said...

thank you Liz, it was wonderful being with you yesterday.

mansuetude, thank you, your ramblings are exciting to read and provoke my thought along:
I think about the artist pocket mind a lot. The way we perceive the world, picking bits of it up, examining carefully, and storing it for later. The storage, a time of percolation (that space between collecting and creating), is an alchemy. The collected, rubbing against one another depositing meaning on its neighbor. And weight, of course, plays its own role, how can we express the inward? Can we lessen the burden of our ideas, if only to record in that one moment who we were before we shift into something else. Grace comes to visit, helps the choice, she approves your work. Ah, but our creations have lives too you know, and not always faithful ones. That poppyseed I set aside to show you has bloomed already.

(I've rambled on yet another track, apologies) I'll find "moments of being", thank you.

kate, gut over mind sorting tends to get to the heart of the matter somehow. Thank you for listening.

Lasuza, I am back! Missed it and you all while I was away, I have swiftly germinating seeds to show soon.

Ritva said...

harmaa on kaunis
grey is beautiful

MBKKR said...

Just went through all your pages and i must say... i think you are an inspiring artist!

MBKKR said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
mansuetude said...

your "ramblings" are beautiful, like a rose bush a'tangling... :)


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