These are dry times. Summer slips away faster than you can catch it – a dime down the drain. The sky hangs damp and icy today. Across the globe, powerful little men toy with the world’s future like it’s a game of chicken. Hurricanes have ravaged large parts of our earth. Families will suffer the effects for years to come. Terrorists won’t let London sleep.
This planet can get so ugly. So broken. So disordered. So many of our mirrors are shattered.
There is order in beauty. A divine order, I believe, but whatever your theology you can feel it. The affirmation of disparate parts falling into place.
Jennifer Berkenbosch’s Cultivar matters because the world needs beauty today. We need to be reminded that there is goodness. There is a solid bed beneath this wild river.
So I shovel all three walks. And it takes about 13 minutes. And I leave before 9 AM on my way to the Bleeding Heart Art Space to write a new #ArtScene13 post for this weekend. Only I don’t write that post. I write this one.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
The snow fell thick and fast yesterday, and it just wouldn't quit. Today we may feel smothered by the blanket of white. If that is you, perhaps some good poetry will help? Here is a poem for the snow, written by Edmonton poet Stephen T. Berg, and gratefully shared here with his permission. I recommend a warm cup of tea on the side.
Snow and Canadian Poets
by Stephen T. Berg
acorn, avison, birney, bringhurst all canadian poets speak of snow livesay, newlove layton, lightfoot it’s as though they were there when the meteors slammed into the earth kicking up clouds of sulfate, shrouding the great plains from sun a solar heat shield for the laurentian plateau cooling, cooling wallace, waddington watching, watching
and kroetsch on the lookout too sees that first atomic crystal crawl out from beneath a chondrite float up into the impact winter seeking comfort in a cold cloud colliding, coalescing determined hexagon fraternal deposition gluing vapour to vapour droplet to droplet spikes, columns, buttresses flesh gathering flight writes it down into his seed catalogue …how do you grow a snow flake? how do you grow a poet? wait, wait, wait then fall high up into the atmosphere
Find more of Stephen T. Berg's writing at growingmercy.org.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
