[RCL]

Love it, Jane!

Here's a portion of Thoreau on space as he builds his cabin:

Walden: Chapter 13 House Warming

I lingered most about the fireplace, as the most vital part of the
house. Indeed, I worked so deliberately, that though I commenced at
the ground in the morning, a course of bricks raised a few inches
above the floor served for my pillow at night; yet I did not get a
stiff neck for it that I remember; my stiff neck is of older date.
I took a poet to board for a fortnight about those times, which
caused me to be put to it for room. He brought his own knife,
though I had two, and we used to scour them by thrusting them into
the earth. He shared with me the labors of cooking. I was pleased
to see my work rising so square and solid by degrees, and reflected,
that, if it proceeded slowly, it was calculated to endure a long
time. The chimney is to some extent an independent structure,
standing on the ground, and rising through the house to the heavens;
even after the house is burned it still stands sometimes, and its
importance and independence are apparent. This was toward the end
of summer. It was now November.

[Sarah-Jane Crowson]

Thank-you RCL,

That is fascinating. Thank you so much. There is so much to read, and I do need to read this. I am not going to be boring about research inquiries, but mine has veered sideways due to COVID & I think reading Thoreau could help me traverse this more than Perec.

Sarah-Jane
(not trying to hijack the thread)

[Ann Drysdale]

Bones

Flicking leaf litter with the lower end
of a utilitarian thumbstick
often reveals the skeletal remains
of some small creature that has reached the end
of its allotted span. Perhaps a lark
lies ready-split, swindled out of its music
leaving behind the ghosts of instruments
with which to call it back. A rib-marimba
resonating under a fingernail,
long flutes of legs and a keel-tambourine
backing a gaping beak’s absence of singing
in a lament to lay a bird to rest.

[Sarah-Jane Crowson]

Ann,

I am so glad you have posted. I love the image of lark bones and the ghosts of instruments. Also the rib-marimba and fingernails and flute-legs.

It's a challenge, too, as the images are already so lovely.

But I very much need it, as yesterday, during one of those 'I really wish I hadn't said that' moments, I have somehow managed to commit myself to an e-magazine cover brief that involves subversive unicorns.

I can now procrastinate happily thinking about your poem and fishing out that image of vole bones (they will do as a starting point). The subversive unicorns can wait a while.

Sarah-Jane

[Sarah-Jane Crowson]

Ann, This doesn't do your lovely poem any kind of justice (sorry).

But, following on from Ralph, to me, to Ann, to me again:

Fictional archaeologies

[Ann Drysdale]

Jane, this, too, was something I made some time ago, but it fits so well with your image that I'll post it.

Small Rodents, Dead

Each pose is different. A murdered vole
lies in a frozen dive, its tiny legs
stretched fore-and-aft in a flat capriole.

A rat seems only sleeping, soft and slack;
there is no malice in it any more,
a brief apology might bring it back.

Two shrews lie face-to-face, their fists clenched tight
frozen forever in a punch-up pose
as though not going down without a fight.

A broken mouse, with its one teacup ear
still spread to catch the warning that it missed
and half-ball eye still shimmering with fear.

Felis Domesticus has done its worst.
Which fallen hero shall I bury first?


I actually find it hard to respond with a new poem when a promp calls to mind one that I have already written. Your last image was new to me, but this one seems familiar, as if illustrating the above poem.

[Sarah-Jane Crowson]

Ann, I love 'flat capriole' and the 'teacup ear'.

I can promise the image was newly minted, but it's awesome that it recalled a previous poem - that's really lovely.

No rules, in this game, beyond image-poem-image. That's what makes it fun!

(and thank-you for playing with me)

Sarah-Jane
(I'm thinking about cat images - wondering if I can make a line drawing using string which evokes cat as not-cutesy - cat-as-useful)

[Sarah-Jane Crowson]

Aargh. Ann, I can only apologise for this one.

I've been playing with paper ideas since I finished work, and it has resulted in two pop-up cards, a pull-out card, a thaumatrope of a cat in a tree and a failed flexagon.

In the end, I resorted to good old-fashioned string, and it still didn't work very well.

although it's given me an idea for something else.

[Ann Drysdale]

I saw your image, and it lay in the back of my mind until I saw it again, for real, in the garden...

.....Was that a cat or
a black silk scarf u-n-w-i-n-d-i-n-g
into
.......the
..............bushes