after Paul Celan

The hare’s
dust pelt

against the juniper’s sky
now

in the eye uncovered
a question clear

in the wing
of the day and the predator

that writes
the animal’s luck, too.

Where is tomorrow?
Will tomorrow be beautiful?

Someone will answer.
Someone will remember

that dustcolored
tragedy, incidental, belonging

to no one, arriving before
as a flock of cranes

protracted in a long descent
winging blind

to field—the days
are beautiful.

If I was to archive each and every day, down to bare bones, I would get absolutely nothing done and would not fully live that day.  The day would become full of the archiving and the magic would be missed.  I’ve had several full days since living and  breathing two Fridays past, but I haven’t forgotten its beauty.  I began with a poem because poetry whittles a full written expression to its essence.  The words capture the magic of the day.

It all began as most days do, at the edge of the Bow River.  It seemed that I would be encountering strong females and it so happened that the Bald Eagles were sitting together.  The female is on the left.  She’s so incredibly beautiful.

The female coyote has raised two stunningly handsome youngsters, now one year old.  It’s been a wonderful year of viewing their forays.

Then it was off, for my very first time, to Bell’s in Marda Loop.

What I didn’t capture in photographs is the lovely person who shared the table with me.  Thank you, Teresa, for the latte and the delicious slice of home made banana bread.

Teresa Posyniak has a life-giving spirit and is a strong woman who lifts up other women through her genuine interest in them.  Her art oozes with copious texture and is both strong and fragile.  I will treasure our rich conversation and hope to follow, more closely, her exploration of topics such as resiliance.  Teresa’s is an artistic voice to listen to and I encourage my readers to connect with her work through the links I’m providing here.

I was whizzing off to Joan’s next, but not before a quick stop at cSpace.

Of course, I’m still very much in awe of this beautiful installation at the front entrance way, Yesterday Today Tomorrow by Caitlind r.c. Brown, Wayne Garrett and Lane Shordee.  This single sad photograph does not capture the experience of this piece, so readers, you will have to add this to your list.

Cassie Suche’s Sway series was refreshing, tucked away at one end of the second floor.  Very organic and slightly humourous at the same time, I really enjoyed the work created on her one-month residency.

I was blessed to have enjoyed a full day workshop with Laura Vickerson at the Esker a couple of years back.  I am truly interested in her work and ended up pouring over this booklet about Constructed Histories for more time than I had intended.  Love her work.  Love the concepts behind her work.  These spoke to me of nostalgia and memory…something that interests me.

Marty Kaufman’s blown glass…Eroded Forms drew me in.  Such milky forms.  I absolutely love them.

A new experience for me was to hit upon the Blackboard Gallery.  I went with the intention of seeing these works, the urban landscapes done by Melanie Figueroa.  She is someone I follow on Instagram, but I had never seen her work in the flesh.  This gallery is a sweet little space.  I ended up totally wrapped up in a conversation about jewelry with Melanie Archer.  I’ll be back.

By this time, I needed to set out for the lodge.  Joan and I spent a generous hour pouring over her sketchbooks, nicely organized by Sandy.  We dug in deep, sharing about light and dark, texture, pattern and the act of creating.  It’s not everyone who can enjoy a conversation like that so much, but the two of us certainly did.  Sheila arrived and we shared yet another wonderful conversation.

So, it turns out, this was the landscape of my day two Fridays past.  I think of the women in my life as being remarkable in so many ways.  I am blessed by their goodness and their strength.  I am grateful.