Where I Am
This is my desk for a few more days.
Notice the "Make Art, Not War." Notice the wild sweet peas and beneath that a picture of Frida Kahlo.
I came here to begin revising my third manuscript. I have, I went from two pages of poems that I felt were complete to fourteen pages. I started three new poems yesterday.
One I started while sitting on the edge of a cliff looking at a lighthouse and a mountain.
Deer are everywhere here. But so are hornets. Each afternoon I know it's time to close my windows after I've caught and released no less than ten hornets with a wine glass. Hornet season is bad this yes, or maybe these are paper wasps. Either way, they find their way and I am their escort out.
Thankfully, I am not afraid of bees or wasps or hornets and in fact, if their buzzing wasn't so loud, would let them travel the room until they find their way back to the blackberries. But I am afraid of not writing poems or working, and their buzzing makes me lose my place, lose my poem, and that is why we can't live together in this small room with big windows.
I am incredibly jealous.:)
ReplyDeleteI gather that the room doesn't have screens on the windows?
ReplyDeleteOne time years ago I woke up one summer morning, was sitting on the edge of the bed, and after a moment I felt a dull pain, kind of a tightness, in the bottom of my foot. I figured it was just a morning foot cramp that would work itself out once I stood up and walked.
Then it started hurting a little more, and I looked, and there was a wasp (the yellow jacket variety) stinging the bottom of my foot. I slapped at it hard a couple of times and it was no more.
It had gotten in at some point, while a door was open, and it was on the floor when I put my foot down, and it started stinging out of self-preservation, and I slapped it out of self-preservation...
The good news of that morning was that I found that I'm apparently not allergic to the stings. My foot was a little sore that day, but I walked around on it with no problems. About three days later it itched a little around the spot of the sting, but no swelling, no big bad reaction, and then nothing else after that.
I'm not particularly afraid of the stinging things either, though I've found it's a good idea to be aware of them when they're around.
Hey Kelli--I love your desk. Thanks for sharing. Sorry about the bees. See below!
ReplyDeleteFame is a bee. (1788)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Fame is a bee.
It has a song—
It has a sting—
Ah, too, it has a wing.
Sounds perfect! :)
ReplyDelete