Image Taken from Reapting Islands
At the beginning of the year I felt compelled to pencil in my diary the birthday of one of our Caribbean icons. Why, perhaps because of some psychological, sociological or symbolic significance?
Today I give thanks for the expression of his individuality. I embrace his passion, his narrative poetry, and his imagistic style. He writes with such intensity and clarity that even after years of writing them his poems still seems eternally fresh.
With my urgent need to express how I feel on his eighty second birthday (82nd) words fail me. So to use the words of Wordsworth, another iconic poet who died (in 1850) many years before Walcott was born; Walcott’s poetry is a “spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.”
Derek Walcott’s works have all the hallmarks of great poetry having achieved such literary success; Nobel Prize for literature in 1992, and the T.S. Eliot Prize in 2011. He is an excellent example of what one can achieve as a poet. I am forever enriched by his knowledge. As a Caribbean poet Walcott’s spirit is intertwined in my literary experience as there will always be an allegiance to and gratitude for him.
Happy Birthday Honorable Derek Walcott.
(In St Lucia Derek Walcott’s country of birth his birthday January 23 is a national event.)
Excerpt taken from White Egrets by Derek Walcott appended:
Be happy now at Cap, for the simplest joy-
For a line of white egrets prompting the last word,
For the sea’s recitation re-entering my head
With questions it erases, canceling the demonic voice
By which I have recently been possessed; unheard,
It whispers the way the fiend does to a madman
Who gibbers to his bloody hands that he was seized
The way the sea swivels in the conch’s ear, like the roar
Of applause that precedes the actor with increased
Doubt to the pitch of paralyzed horror
That his prime is past. If it is true
That my gift has withered, that there’s little left of it,
If this man is right then there’s nothing else to do
But abandon poetry like a woman because you love it
And would not see her hurt, least of all by me;
So walk to the cliff’s edge and soar above it,
The jealousy, the spite, the nastiness, with the grace
Of a frigate over Barrel of Beef, its rock;
Be grateful that you wrote well in this place,
Let the torn poems sail from you like a flock
Of white egrets in a long last sigh of release.
Recently I have had this recurring question what is my favorite flower. It has given me pause for thought. Coincidentally, I came across this quote “A flowerless room is a soulless room.” On the bookcase in the room of where I am writing sits an Orchid that has acted as the origin of my muse on many occasions. I look for flowers in the places that I go. Flowers offer refinement, so when entering hotels, offices, and a person’s home; seeing fresh cut flowers is always a remarkable feeling. Flowers are over 125 million years old – ancient enough to be a messenger of my history. Flowers commemorate passages in our lives and over the years I have delighted in them and continue to do so. There is almost always a burst of passion, high-soul aspiration, a sought of desire when I am in the company of flowers.
The first flower that springs to mind is the Lily. When I think about lilies I recall the white lily field in bloom above my childhood home. I would giddily skip around this field during the Easter season. They would bloom proudly during the day, later in the evening it seems as if they bow their heads to the setting sun, as if they were drifting off to sleep. I have learned just recently those types of lilies are called day Lilies.
Another flower that comes to mind is the hibiscus. This flower is almost synonymous with my Primary/Grade school days. We loved seeing the various colors (red, white, yellow) in bloom. From time to time a young girl would wear one perched behind her ear almost like an enchanted fairy perhaps. Doing so was a self-expression of delicate beauty. Thinking back it was not only the school girls. I recall an older lady by the name of Ms. Dorothy she was tall, graceful and solid built, almost every time we saw her she had a hibiscus tucked in her hair – like a sartorial elegance. As well as being a natural draw for humming birds, the hibiscus was often the subject of our Art Class. My fond recollection in High/Middle School is how we had to learn to draw and paint the hibiscus. Also a part of our theory was to know the anatomy of the hibiscus. Back then we drew the hibiscus with such ease; the end result would make us feel like Claude Monet or even Vincent Van Gogh. Reminiscent of those days is a detailed Hibiscus painting of one of our very own artist hung in my daughter’s room.
My mind often reflects on roses. There are the roses every young lady wishes her admirer, lover, husband would send. Roses imply passion, extravagance, romantic love, virtue or even chastity. I recall when I got married I wanted my bouquet made of a dozen fresh white roses. My maid of honor still reminiscences that it was the heaviest bouquet she ever held. In church we had a back and forth exchange of the bouquet at the altar because it was just that heavy.
Then there are tulips! When I think of Tulips I think back to the time when I was in University in England and how they will bloom in the wild – fields, parks and gardens. I would always go out and pick one and put it in the window. To me it suggested, say a declaration of love in living and studying there. It comes as no surprised that tulips were worth more than pieces of property at one time several hundred years ago in the 17th century. This time period is referred to as the ‘windhandel.’
There is the traditional flower Jasmine. In the evening particular approaching Christmas the scent would fill the air. It was like a treat just to sit outside in the evening and smell it as I watch its full bloom in the night. My grandmother cherished her Jasmine tree. We were expected to trim and prune the garden but we dare not touch her Jasmine.
Roused by a fresh flush of patriotism, fueled partly by nostalgia I think of the tropical, ornamental, and distinctive bright plumage of our (Montserrat’s) national flower the Heliconia and fittingly I smile. There is something magical about flowers it creates a sense of occasion. A lady is forever charmed with such a gesture.
Thinking back, the love of flowers is not exclusive to femininity. While I was working in England I knew that one of my favorite male senior manager loved flowers just as much. So I decided my parting gift to him was a surprise bouquet of exotic flowers. I can still see the look on his face when I presented them to him. He left the office that afternoon all chuffed, saying how he cannot wait to take them home; his commute was about a two hour drive (and no he was not gay).
I have been inspired by many types of flowers over the years, my taste for flowers has evolved whether as a symbolic gesture, for its fragrance, the colors, and the attractiveness, to me there is an intimate language. I do not have a favorite flower but it is beginning to seem ridiculous not to have one.
Do you have a favorite flower?
Reaching a milestone is an inspiring time. It unleashes so many emotions. Upon reaching a milestone there is an inner peace that comes from the accomplishment. Things that we often take for granted such as simply breathing become more meaningful. It feels like you are on a cusp of a whole new life. It is a time of the year one look at things (signs, symbols) for a new perspective; it presents an opportunity to be motivated. The days leading up to my birthday one symbol or thing that kept coming into my consciousness was the ELEPHANT.
There are three things that happened that made me think of the fact that knowledge is the beginning of many rewarding experiences. I wanted to watch a movie “Water for Elephants” which I did not get a chance to see in the movie theatre. Happenstance while waiting in a business office for particular documents I came across Conde Nast Traveler and read an article named “the Lord of Beginnings.”
- Basically it was a story of a London writer who was at personal crossroads finds herself scrubbing an elephant and a year later honored the Hindu elephant god Lord Ganesh. Essentially it highlights the importance of Elephant in Hindu religion. No I am not thinking about switching my religion, but in this great sphere of life we can learn something about each other thus respecting one another. However, the interpretation of an elephant according to the article is a remover of obstacles and Lord of Beginnings. The mention of the elephant removing obstacles “clicked” or triggered something within me and this belief in time will be relevant and will be revealed in varying degrees.
- So I made it a point to watch the movie Water for Elephants. In the movie what struck me most was not the love story but the fact that the movie featured a young man who was about to complete his Ivy League education. He was about to take his final exam and was interrupted by the news that his parents was tragically killed. My first thought was could they not allow him the time to complete the exam before delivering such news. Left penniless, homeless he went traveling with a circus and used the knowledge he had gained in his apprenticeship programs and acted as an unlicensed veterinarian (Vet). He was given a second chance by giving the insurmountable task of training and looking after an elephant. When he first met the elephant and touched her first thing he noticed was her dry skin he said “first thing one notices about a women’s age is her skin” The elephant befriended him and played a major part in his freedom. In the end he went back took the exam and got his license as a Vet.
- In addition, I watched on BBC channel the morning of my birthday. A segment featured a father without any formal education who is barely literate, spends all his efforts paying for his daughter’s education. His reason for this was money will come and go but your education stays with you always.
These three stories highlight that true talent is a gift that is born within. No matter what obstacles are in your way no one can take that gift of knowledge which has been implanted in your life. We are meant to live freely and life is ours to embrace. In this life we can rely on our conscious state, revelations, religious teachings, rituals, symbols and customs to help us along
I had to prepare my daughter’s back pack from last school year due to the new back pack zipper not working after two days of school. I noticed the ELEPHANT on the bag. It drew me in and he ‘bathed me on the serene immediacy of his pleasure”- in a sense – removing my obstacles.
PS. I wrote this blog on the fifth of September and decided I was not going to publish it on my blog. Coincidentally, while browsing through Time Light box pictures of the week I came across a photograph of a man carrying an idol of Hindu elephant headed god Ganesha for immersing it in the Arabian Sea on the fifth day of the 10 day long Ganesh Chaturti festival in Mumbai, India. The festival celebrates the birth of the Hindu god. I can hear my friend whisper as she reads this post “there are no coincidences”
Having just celebrated my birthday it seems as if it is a new year. Can I describe what a new year stirs?
It does not stir desire nor memory but a throbbing of life dancing in my blood. As I face the unknown with carefreeness and freedom, I am truly thankful for what I have received and what I am about to receive.
Dear God
Lord of beginnings, remover of obstacles, as I immerse in your miracle and favor
I am thankful for:
The love of a husband;
The gift of a child;
The present and presence of friends;
The boundless resilience of family;
The whisper of admirers and;
The bounty of many harvest
Amen.
-
Graham Guymer
Have ever you had a hunch, an intuitive feeling, a tug, a gut wrenching feeling that is directing you to do something to the point that there is an overlapping of being neurotic and having a character disorder?
When I get this feeling I call it a temporary neurosis. It takes the form of a speech in my head that says “I should” “I ought to” as if I am falling short if I do not listen and my character disorder gives me no power of choice “I have to” “I had to” and is completely directed by external forces. Then I do not think about it anymore. I do not debate it. I decide immediately follow your instinct.
Recently I have been experiencing this feeling quite frequently.
For example, I was thinking about a particular friend before I went to bed; down to the details of planning his wedding. He was not even engaged. It was ten o’clock I wanted to call his house, but I have this policy do not call anyone house after nine as I feel it is disrespectful. So, I woke up the next morning and call him he greeted me with a smile in his voice “Brenda you heard the news” I said no I called because I had to speak to you, to see if you are okay. He said he got engaged the night before. I was elated, to say the least.
Then on another occasion a person that I usually conduct business with, and share cordial greetings with came to mind. I was anxious to go and see her. I left home with no intention of visiting her but on my way decided to make a detour because ‘I should’, ‘I ought”, “ I have to” see her today, I thought, only to find out if I have waited one day later I would have found out from someone else she was going away.
Although all my experiences, concerning these feelings, are quite different they are not totally different in terms of a positive outcome. Not all hunches produces favourable results but I hope whatever your hunch is today it ends in a very good way.
Image by © Image Source/Corbis
I woke this morning thankful for the grace of friendship. Recently, I gave up a friendship based on certain assumptions, then something happened and our past dictated it necessary to make contact. After the conversation started that connection was as natural as breathing. When I did the foundation of the friendship transcends the mixed thoughts and bridges the space.
Before the conversation ended I admitted the reason for the non-contact and we both understood the misinterpretations. The bridge was repaired because the bond and the commitment of our friendship. Sometimes in life we need to let go and focus, as too often, we look for perfect people and if they do no measure up we abandon them.
I hope that you do realize that if you too have encountered a similar situation it is not too late. With conscious action we can avoid the phrase “if only I knew.” Today you can make that first step, the writer Carleen Brice says it best in Walk Tall “Hindsight gives us all perfect judgment…it is time to walk with a new and better friend – love”
Photographed by Chris Carlson
A global alarm was sparked this weekend past as we awaited the United States of America (US) lawmakers to strike a deal to avert a possible August debt default. I wondered about the coincidence of the Emancipation Holiday looming. This weekend was also the celebration of the Emancipation proclamation and coincidently this crisis has been whispered in certain circles, even by members of the Congressional Black Caucus, as an attack on his ethnicity.
Naturally given the time of year I reached back into our ancestral experiences. Upon doing this my train of thought flickered from democracy vs. Plantocracy. Plantocracy is a form of government in which the planters use their power to benefit themselves Whereas Democracy a form of government in which people are given a say. Can the Republicans be compared to the planters that use a persuasion tactic, power, to influence the electorate?
My train of thought also wandered onto Derek Walcott’s poem Forty Acres in his book White Egrets. The poem Forty Acres was dedicated to Barak Obama as a reference to the term forty acres and a mule. Every slave was promised forty acres and a mule upon being freed. Derek Walcott compares Obama to a freed slave and the crowds as fields he walks through. He compares the challenges Obama has to face to the hard work that lay ahead of the freed slave. In my estimation it seems as if the mule turned out to be the lawmakers, those who are stubborn and unmoved by the urging of Obama’s hand but have their obstinate minds made up. In this case the distinguished President got many mules.
Indeed the President has realized his dream of being the 44th President of the United States but undoubtedly he is still experiencing prejudice and discrimination thus the Tea Party succeeding in turning a United States Senate tug-of-war into a full-blown global conflagration. I can now hear Jessie Jackson praying ‘Keep Hope alive.” As Obama turns fifty years old, and tries to recover from the ‘psychological and physical strains’ of his job, he remains an inspiration for young and old around the world as a symbol of hardiness, much like the black slaves of old.
In life we will soar, which no doubt will be extraordinarily thrilling and rewarding, but there will always be something or someone with impatient taunts, institutional pathology attempting to make us feel incomplete. We are at the behest of our thoughts as we are ultimately driven by them. So in the times when we feel stripped and intimidated we must allow our positive thoughts to nurture and guide us. We must, hence at the most wearisome of times relinquish those opinions that give us grief. Let us walk tall, proud and visible as symbolic representations of the journey from our own forms of slavery to the true concept of freedom; which is feeling whole and complete in spite of…
Happy Birthday Mr. President!
Painting from www.sloneart.com
As I rummaged through my thoughts on this Ash Wednesday and co-incidentally International Woman’s Day I pondered about things which concern women. I thought also about the abrupt and unforeseen changes that may occur in our lives. Events may transform us physically, emotionally and intellectually. As women we worry about and are thankful for many things. I would like to take some time to reflect on some of them with you.
We are thankful for connections, peaks (academic pursuits, vocational quest), troughs, timeless dedication to self and family. We give thanks for expression of individuality, embracing our passions, the health of love ones, and our boundless imagination. Our unselfconscious goodness, concern or lack thereof for what others may think about us. We rejoice at feeling youthful/vigorous, sense of control, and growing number of choices at our finger tips. Those places that offer a safe cover, shielding and buffering our children and spouses as they journey through life, reconciliation, death, life (sun, soil, food, water, talents, gift), peace, relief, pleasure of commitment.
Many yearn to look younger and it feels so good when someone thinks we are younger in terms of physical beauty let us also be thankful for the gift of maturity as we celebrate being a woman. My choices of thanks are few in comparison to wide reaching needs and the diversity of women worldwide and there may be a few more you may wish to add.
I will end by saying that, as we move purposefully in a solitary way this Ash Wednesday as we steady ourselves against the tides of life, one incontrovertible truth is that women are wonderfully made and are naturally beautiful. Let us celebrate this and embrace it.
Fragrance of dreams
In similar shades
Scale of motifs
Shear in
Layers of boldness
Timeless colorful pieces
Chanted in prayers
Self tapping moments in
Organic places
The spark of commitment
Sensation of tweaks
Her essence of vicuña fibre
Natural pearls
A flower surrounded by delicate beads
She is meant for greatness
She is treasured
-
Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
Image taken by Saas Fee, perle-der-alpen.ch
Love After Love
-
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here.
Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.
Give bread.
Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit.
Feast on your life
.
Poem Written by Derek Walcott
Some may say this is cynical piece for Valentines Day; I call it a masterpiece. Be positive appreciate the person you are simultaneously celebrate others in your life.
Photographed by Susan Koster
Stilted comprehension
Sheltered in misty reflections
The humming through veins
Melted wild
Words trailed
Banquet of amusing chirps
Chimes in wind beaten fronds
Downward bent coconut shafts
Feather-like blessings thrill
Peak through crispy green extensions…
Enter stalks of lavender
Cold splash of hypnotic blue eyes
Almond tear drops
Blooms of soft crimson rose
Defiant passion
Sapphire thoughts
Shinning rusty shards
Among milky amber streams
Willed a rising blinding flash
The penetrating silence
As new seagrape leaves
Besotted blind beauty
His promise
-
Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
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