Tag: #bymepoetryasia #writersnetwork #inspirational #writersden #wings #journal #

A Planet full of Pile

I saw this Photograph in DAVE’s brilliant Blog PHOBLOGRAPHY , and it drew me right in! Thank you so much for the inspiration your work always brings.

Photo Credit

PHOBLOGRAPHY
……

How many footprints are we, how many miles, how many stories writ or half made, waiting, stalled,

how many lanes are we, bylane – gullies, routes, detours: how many doors have we done, thresholds; how many

shores laced with each others drift: how many piles of chatter, players of games in the sands we walked, how many grains of day and night, how many clusters of seconds, of hours:

how many stacks of us, strangers together, like a planet full of pile.

….

@raylarn

The Naked Prayer

That Impossible thing you do relying on your 'nth sense alone.

I’ve been fascinated long enough with Michelangelo’s 15 ft marble masterpiece David, to take a good read on material I could get, and look what I found: along with some Questions, some Answers & an impossibly naked prayer….“**

The slingshot over his shoulder is near invisible… signifying as one account stokes me to say: this battle was not fought by fabulous human armoury …
the head and arm are proportionately larger than the rest of the body‘, perhaps because it was meant to be displayed at a higher level than it finally was. Or to emphasize that David was held by the Invisible Strong Arm to Whom he looked for help.
David is a Biblical story, (1 Samuel), where this young shepherd defeats giant Goliath with a slingshot, and Faith in a God who was proven reality in his life. He would also be known as the Psalmist.


Michelangelo sculpts his David as before his battle with Goliath: quiet tense, with ‘pebble’ hidden in right palm, his slingshot seemingly at rest on his shoulder. He is left handed? He catches his giant by surprise.

At 26 years old in 1501, Michelangelo accepted the challenge to sculpt a large scale David, from an unfinished project flawed with ‘taroli‘ or imperfections: it was in the Vestry’s courtyard for 25 years. No one expected such a revolutionary translation of a biblical hero.

What was this young Italian Sculptor thinking those 4 years working a discarded humongous white rock of ‘flawed’ marble? Why the heart shaped pupils and ‘one eye looking at a closer object, the other at a more distant one…?’ What does this Teenage Shepherd boy symbolize, not just as the most famous naked statute in the world….?

Traditionally, David had been portrayed post- victory over the slain Goliath. But Michelangelo chooses a David poised, before all of the action – leaning his focus on the power of a God who had already delivered him from a lion and a bear, bare handed.

It would take 4 days x 40 men to move the statue the half mile from Michelangelo’s workshop by Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral to the Piazza della Signoria. Luca Landuccidiarist, recounts:

…midnight, May 14th, and the ‘Giant’ was taken out of the workshop. They even had to tear down the archway… 40 men were pushing the large wooden cart where ‘David’ stood protected by ropes, sliding it through the town on trunks. The Giant eventually got to Signoria Square on June 8th 1504…”

Michelangelo worked at the statue in secrecy … he worked in the open courtyard, in the rain: this inspired him? It’s been said he submerged a wax model of his design in water. As the water level dropped he’d chisel what emerged. He slept in at work, ate when he could….

his craftsmanship is ‘flesh- soft’, frozen palpable restful caution, reflected in a classic pose (contrapposto); one leg bearing full weight, while the other leans forward allowing hip and shoulder to recline at opposing angles, lending the entire torso it’s now legendary S- curve : the stance of a confident, focused watchful warrior.

**Why the heart shaped pupil under furrowed brows? You’d furrow, burrow, …….owwww anything if you were faced with a bloodthirsty monster’s 7ft sword going at your jugular… I can’t say. I wasn’t there,

though I’ve seen a few monster cyclones, a semi tidal wave, a few insane river crossings, one deadly mountain route; sat in at a Mumbai eatery while a 10,000 strong mob rioted past looking for petrol and match; I even been in the 200 km No man’s Land between India and Karachi: with quiet (back then) Border Security and long sweet smelling grass:

you were not just staring at danger, you were gazing at Something else you couldn’t define. Your brain had registered earlier Goodness. You remembered how the ocean looked before the storm, you perhaps even thought this too- would pass. You chose not to think the cyclone would sweep your roof away. You looked on life with ‘heart-shaped pupils’ waiting for the morning sun, waiting in a way that knew storms and rough places were not eternal situations. In that moment you chose not to rely on mere senses; if you prayed, you didn’t have time to format words. There were no words. You forgot formality, you were stripped of human comfort, you didn’t care. But you remembered somethings no one could have told you to remember, none but another Power could whisper that secret, in ways beyond aural, they were metaphysical? Maybe, maybe there’s more adjectives than we know.

D’you remember a time you thought you were alone in a place no one else could reach, but Something held you? That Fever you thought could never leave, that Accident that took your leg but gave you wings, you now remember all that and it pushes you up the rungs of a Thing like a stair case made of gold, gold because it’s like nothing else you’ve known…. resilient after a fire rinse, beautiful in the refining….

You’re looking at all that now with eyes of a love you never thought existed …

A love for divine intervention, interpretation…

a love for the impossible.

You cannot find words to pray, but your mental Sling is working:

there’s a giant, a Goliath in your face. You’re looking at It, but also at the Possibility of an impossible solution. You’ve got to take the very thing you been good at, those proverbial ‘5 pebbles from little stream at home’, your well worn sling>these kiddie weapons, but it’s all you got, stripped of other armour too much for you to fit into!

But all you got is enough.

You surprise yourself, and your giant.

You become the giant….. 15 feet tall, pure gleaming material now, from something you thought was flawed:

if anything is a Prayer/ an Asking – it’s this one:

when the human spirit asks its Creator, what they can collaborate on together: “..what d’You want me to do next?”

What is that one stance that is most opposed to human nature?

It’s what made a Michelangelo, and the original David. (Michelangelo surprised even Leonardo Da Vinci in that broad room meeting they had, deciding where to stall David). It is Job sitting in the market place in ashes and sackcloth saying,”Never mind the nasty things my besties say about me, bless them God, I know my Redeemer lives…for me.” It is Daniel flung in the lion’s den, unafraid, “..even if He slays me, I trust Him.” It is Esther and Ruth, Hannah and Sara. Or Gideon and Moses. It is you and me, every so often, walking through everyday miracles of existence and healing and we mightn’t even notice some times but we prayed these impossible prayers, naked of all garb/pretence/fear/doubt/lack of gut;

we might be there today, and we look around and find these little or large, old and new mammoth Illustrations of how humans can pray, or perhaps it’s possible we have done it, and haven’t realised it….

No?

Not possible to gaze beyond our Goliath and look askance at ……..an Invisible God?

No?

Non possibile???

But this got me here, @ the kind of prayer Stance that defies visible support….*

more on Michelangelo’s David

…. nor has there ever been seen a pose so easy, or any grace to equal that in this work, or feet, hands and head so well in accord, one member with another, in harmony, design, and excellence of artistry.” Giorgio Vasari on the most famous statue in Florence or perhaps in all the world.

“…ONLY GOD CREATES, THE REST OF US JUST COPY…” Michelangelo.

Read the FACTS about the David »

Saturday’s child.

With blind school kids, and a musical I worked with them

His name was Dhru*; he loved the ‘roaring’ bit. Dhru must be at least ten years old today, when we did “Everybody is differently beautiful”, he must’ve been 7? To think he couldn’t see his costume, had no clue what a lion’s mane was like, or even heard it roar, what a sport Dhru was. All these unknown things and he had to act as well as mime singing! But they were all game, as game can get.

I learned how to appreciate life, how to dance even if we missed a step, how to laugh out loud against all odds- from these kids who were my son’s schoolmates. The School asked if I could help out with Spoken English: oh I hinted broadly at Drama and Poetry. They didn’t get the Poetry bit, but one little girl did. She loved every poem in her braille typed book, especially the one that went, “…and Saturday’s child has to work hard for her living…”

It still breaks my heart to recall how they were taught to cross the street by themselves. Some of the older ones were actually going on crowded buses and getting off alone, cheerfully unafraid.

They must learn….how else will they face life?” Their Daily Living Skills teacher asked me.

Sometimes I wish our own Joh weren’t as independent as he is. I wish he were less self reliant, I wish our kids didn’t need to grow up in a world that knows how to take advantage of the ‘disadvantaged’. I wish our roads were safer. But then am proud of every young /older challenged person or otherwise who can “work hard” at whatever Life gives them.

Thankyou young Dhru for reminding me today of people like you who still teach me to be brave and beautiful, no matter what.

..

*name changed

Pause calmly ….Selah!

Much to un-think here, @ a 3 hour drive from Bangalore city, into tiny growing town.

That cloud sits on thatch? …. its an untouched blue sky with no malls or smog.
At Kuppam’s local market, one or two women are speaking fluent English, their eyes are warm. I meet a beautiful lady at the Railways- she mans a 2ft iron wheel that lifts railway-cross gate. There is no time to take her picture…..
want to wish her a Happy New Year like we wished some others, but Railway lady in blue sari is busy; she turns to give me another look, then surprises us with a wide smile, white teeth and laughing eyes. The woman must be somewhere around 3o, 40? I send a small hand-wave. She waves back, laughing like a school girl.
On our next visit to Kuppam, we simply must get a pic with her.
Good holidays are also those when you’ve no time for a good photograph?
We stay almost a week here.
That lovely Gate is under repair. There were lesser sheep this time at Kuppam: no it’s not a farm for animals, just us humans+ cuddly paws.
My sis sculpts her fav words into woodwork, grills….
She’s an Eye Doc in this town, border to three south Indian states. Li loves the precious simple life here with a faithful househelp and furry princess.
Like Trees planted by Springs of Living waters; there’s backyard Date palm, bougainvillea, guava, papaya, mango, occasional monkey ….
Bonfire woodies. Such memories here with Mom&Dad in this space by Christmas tree, Gulmohar, shoeflower, a baby tamarind tree. Time has flown by ‘like smoke through a key hole…’ (Movie : The Bucket List)
Honey!
Li’s exquisite cuisine
That new double road used to be a rough path to Kupz’s lake. There are more people, cars, school buses, buildings today….
Floors, tiny christmas lights asleep
Meshed safety front grill to keep away esp. mosquitoes. That door lock has seated one or two friendly frog. Very tiny ones. They look like Kermit to us, but Li doesn’t think so. She says(with shudder) they (her leapy frog) wait for her with sly grin.
No, they’re not ..!” is her horror response
to my Q.”What if they just want a kiss, and will turn into your Prince?
Li loves her Prince of Peace best.


The road back…. miles off city limits: goatsherd!
Thresh time! We must gingerly drive over their sheaves, this helps them? (Green lid sohmph my new travel mate from Li’s kitchen).
You can’t see this well enough, but that’s a Church steeple over local temple, rerouting past Kolar gold fields.
Sunset over another gorgeous day; Joh is quiet this past hour. Bangalore city is closer from this long stretch, after brief stop for Lassi.
Back home @Greenview, our feathered granddaughter Tina has two ugly blonde chicks… soon they’ll grow fine feathers. One must wait. And watch.
And did you know Pigeon can be trained to recognize every alphabet?
Tina’s mom is our second daughter Kitsy:) Tina herself was hatched here (also mothered by Kit, so). Complicated!

All this in our little garden which will be busy this season. Phew!
Wishing 2020 Vision for us all.
Peace, Shalom :
nothing missing, nothing broken.
And if there is ‘missing- broken’, may each fit in a whole new way, causing Peace beyond belief.
Selah: meaning, Pause calmly & think of that.

21 conclusions that renew me:

These past months I’ve come to a few (21!)conclusions that renew me; warning though…long post.

  1. Appreciating people is a craft all its own: it breaks barriers in Invisibility & Understanding of human co-existence. (You being here with comment, follow, share: made blogging a truly creative experience for me. My best liked Post was this here, where I discovered that my Art Quotes were liked? Thankyou!)

2. We create new experiences : re-visiting a long past ‘Happy Place’ right here in the Now.This Post: Little chapel in Monmouthshire, surprised me> an Instagram friend’s Photograph that provoked a childhood memory with new realisation that I have this beautiful space in me now forever. It never left, I needed a re- visit/ reminder, via blog? Wow.

3. ‘De-cluttering is also giving away some amount of personal space to listen to another. It is life’s sweetest investment. I haven’t been able to throw away old cards, or my kids’ kindergarten scribbles/ their first baby curls- but we’ve been inviting more people home. Over the months of 2019, I’ve had the privilege of watching my first love for God walk back in. Time has been restored. Time spent nursing health issues: the more I stopped sitting in my own personal fenced Pond, the more healing happened. (If you like, there are a few words from there in Heal).

Digital,RN

4. ‘Old’ structures seen again with new eyes renewed my understanding of my own defences (I’m captured by the world around me👀 in blogosphere!) It is beyond belief how a PhotoBlogger’s Capture of Old Cold Bench re-wrote my own indifference to life outside the front door.

5. The Net has some inspiring movies that worked well in my core;listed in my Decade Tag Post. They expose some incredible events in everyday living. Looking forward to more!

6. Working at what I love can change the way I think, speak. New Painting in The Cusp of things stares at Change with a certain joy and dare.

Days painting with visitors at this Soul Cafe

7. Praying more for those in my ❤, or not, (again, am deeply stirred by some amazing Blog friends who remind me that we are humans in the most demanding era ever, and old fashioned as it may seem I’m stoked to pray for others as others have done for me), makes this whole connectivity thing worth the effort and time and love.

8. Play Angel unawares {This Upload inspires me to go out and take more real life pictures of my own. (You don’t have to read all of my Posts, but am getting a kick out of seeing what I’ve been upto 🤗). Humans can be angels, every single basic one of us.

9. True Life Recounts: change us.

10. Go, GLOW : work out, eat healthy, forgive, speak life. I’ve never personally asked myself to do that.😅.

11. Experiencing Silence writes new words Sing. Play an instrument. Listen to birds. Squirrels. Leaves. Rain. It’s no easy discipline, when you’re tempted to not be silent.

12. Gratitude actually works, even in a blog post!

13. Schedule ‘Rest‘. (Hard to believe how we downplay this one).

14. Wait, even on self. This is new for me.

15. Remember that one line that’s been holding my head. “THERE IS A TIDE TURNING…” < that Post was inspired by the trees outside my house. I know now Natures’ Prompts are from God.

16. Taking inventory of what lives with me : is a critical Must Do!

17. Working on Heartlifts crucial to existence, involves the act of Prayer. Yeah people will find you odd.

18. Know I can be seriously Unafraid.

19. Celebrate Moments, every moment.

20. Breathe deep♡ Love deeper

21. Words I speak too, Talk to me.

I think 21 is a great coming-of-age number. When I started this post, I hadn’t thought to links to posts, hope it reads right.

The whole inter galactic weave isn’t all about me, but somethings are. Things that impact interpersonal spaces, influence social existence.

PEACE Shalom: Nothing missing, nothing broken.
Oil RN

Angel unawares

She found us on a railway platform, Bangalore East; was fascinated by our daughter’s phone and finger ring. Then she wouldn’t leave us; half hour later I was curious to see her family, was she alone? Were there more pretty eyes like hers, gold amber, dark with long lashes….

Photograph Vihan

You could get trapped between tears and soft rage. The child was not hungry for food, she was hungry for things she couldn’t have, not with her lifestyle on the pavement. I looked away hurt that I felt irritation, hurt that I could be repulsed. Somewhere in all that, there was (is) horror that 23%? (according to 2012 census) live below our poverty line. Somewhere in all that is the voice of Sakshi Malik a Facebook friend who said Poverty exists more in the human spirit than anywhere else.

So I follow Amber girl, past a glass bangle seller who also sells heart shaped balloons. He wears kohl in his eyes and one earring. Any other day I may have returned his smile but today the mother in me wasn’t amused. What has happened with us all, that children like this child, must stay in railway platforms? She’s speaking my local Kannada, she is chatty, street smart. If she went to school she’d be in front row full of pep and silver/gold paper stars in her project work.

She points me to her Ma with five other sibling, all their amber eyes on fire. The mother has infant at breast under thin cotton sari and green blouse with safety pins all down opened neck line. Words still fail me, what does one say?

Amber, she grinned at me, her face turning into one big heart. This was ten years ago? She was some kind of angel in that transit zone: we were shifting cities, just about getting used to our third child’s blindness, we were between jobs, it felt insecure, tiring.

I remember Amber today, not as representing the invisible population of a country unable to tackle its vast tribes, but as a bright faced young one who could be beautiful in her spirit and gift us a smile like that, no matter what her circumstance.