We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.

— Ray Bradbury

From Mary TallMountain’s volume of poems The Light on the Wall. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1990.

“There Is No Word for Goodbye”

Sokoya, I said, looking through

the net of wrinkles into

wise black pools

of her eyes.

What do you say in Athabascan

when you leave each other?

What is the word

for goodbye?

A shade of feeling rippled  

the wind-tanned skin.

Ah, nothing, she said,

watching the river flash.

She looked at me close.

We just say, Tlaa. That means,

See you.

We never leave each other.

When does your mouth

say goodbye to your heart?

She touched me light

as a bluebell.

You forget when you leave us;

you're so small then.

We don't use that word.

We always think you're coming back, I

but if you don't,

we'll see you some place else.

You understand.

There is no word for goodbye.

Sokoya: Aunt (mother's sister)

Tlaa: See you 


Thought this was beautiful !

Being back. Learnt a new lesson today. What? Just Ignore the obstacles that come your way. Treat them as they don't exist. They will fade away. Face them if you must. But don't treat them as obstacles. Sounds interesting. Must try out. At this age I need to try out new ways of handling people. Hopefully this will also pass.:)

Been quiet for far too long. There is an urge to write. Pour out  the heart....... but the mundane callings of life push me to a corner. From where I stand today, I think life looks crystal clear. It scares me........  there is comfort in confusion....... There is comfort in cloaks. closed objects look less threatening. Clarity forces you to move further..... Clarity quickens your pace......... to where...... ?

There is an urge to move further into the shell. Can I make more space?
More space in the crammed shell?

The wide open blue sky beckons you.....the urge is to stop. Take a relook. Relook at what?

This is too cryptic even for me....

I promise to myself to be back......... share more of myself with myself.

Very funny. But I am back.. for sure.

அன்றும் இன்றும்

அன்று நான் உலகத்தை கண்றேன்
இன்று நான் என்னை காண்கிறேன்,
அன்று நான் என் உலகத்தை கன்று பயந்தேன்
இன்று நான் என் பயத்தின் நிஜத்தை உணர்கிறேன்,
அன்று நான் கனவு கண்றேன்
இன்று நான் கனவின் நனவை உணர்கிறேன்

காலங்களின் பாலங்கள் பலதை தாண்டி
இன்று நான் நிற்கும் இடம்
நானே எனக்காக தேடிக்கொண்டது
இதில் இப்பொழுது அச்சத்திற்கும் கேள்விக்குரிக்கும் இடமில்லை
இந்த இடைவெளியில் இருந்து..........


இங்கிருந்து எங்கோ ?

Nice to be back

Feels nice to be back 'after a long silence'.
A need to be heard?
Quite possible. :)

Quilting

Entered the world of serious (!) quilting by happenstance.Tried to know and understand this craft a little more.A very primitive analysis led me to do this post

The Western and Eastern approach to quilting.

The Western way with its beautiful patterns and composition  is nothing short of a perfect musical performance. Not a stitch out of place, brilliantly put together, these pieces of 'perfect art' certainly deserve kudos.

The American modern quilting.. Does it reflect the attitude of the 20th century culture? The need to be perfect.. the need to be almost flawless?

Of course, the need to be precise and perfect, the hours of planning that need to be done before one embarks on a project, is something to be highly appreciated.

But I feel a little intimidated with the western modern way. It scares me to be bound to a form.The need for impeccable performance... not a note astray...  scares me

 The Eastern way is perhaps more soothing as it gives you freedom, to move around, play and accept the result as it unfolds. The rhapsody of the eastern way I think is more meditative.There is less planning and more room for errors. More room for correction.

Well, then this is Me. And how I think.. feel...do..

Cheers to all quilters.