|by Flora Jo|
It is strange days in my life this week, editing a little sheaf of poetry for a forthcoming chapbook, love poems, whilst watching in horror as my loveknot seems to fray and fall into pieces in the snow. Each action taken seems to make matters worse, instead of freeing the discord into mutual understanding, opening up again as we have managed to do countless times in the past. As with every other public holiday, i know i am not alone in feeling more grief than optimism on this day, salvaging my pride with thoughts like, "everyone should have at least one great, extravagant love in a lifetime." Gathering images of snow and frost, not as depictions of cold heartedness, but expressive of my roots and of my deepest nostalgia.
The medicine wheel above my daughter made some years ago, and when i showed it to her this morning she opined, it seems a bit disrespectful now. I disagree most absolutely. I find myself wondering, is that a happy face in there, or the circled A of anarchy? A bit of both? The ebullient enthusiasm i identify with, absolutely. The underlying teaching is, dynamic balance, in love as in everything.
Of all the images that i sent to my beau, this is my favourite: if you get right up close and look at life with a clear gaze, frost shows itself to be a most wondrous gift of creation.
|Brian Valentine microphoto frost|
Brian Valentine's microphotography, frost