As my light becomes dark

I intertwine my words and vision into woven light

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Keep My Love


In September 2010 I gathered three writing prompts, feather, shell and charm, I boxed and gave them to Melanie, and she unwrapped a poem, a version of her own.  

Below is my now refined version, which I revisited last night, after she reminded me of the beauty through her original poem from 2010.....


Looking downward
At his empty shell
Shriveled amongst the sand
Whispering to the night
I love you, but
You are my curse
Goodbye, goodbye my love
As he clutches at the charm
Held tight to his chest

Like the memory

That lingers in the air
The past floating
As the layers begin to fall
Salty tears flow from his eyes
The wave’s crashing
Over the rock and the heart
As a yellow glow drapes over his back

Daylight has returned

Watching as the last lone feather
Drops, spiraling toward earth
Landing on the water’s edge
Sparkling inward light

                               
                                                I won’t forget you





Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Waiting

The trees gather
Their dress for spring
Weaving around
Spines arched toward
The sky





Monday, September 24, 2012

Upon arrival






I watch the world bleed
Upon my open wound
The gaping hole filling
With a constant
Reflection
Of my reflecting mind
Capturing the ghost
That lingers in the night

Friday, September 21, 2012

The little travels

I owe you my weakness
Woven throughout
I owe you my mistakes
Hidden beneath
I owe you my fear
Captured between
The one I was
And the who I am

And the who I will be





Tuesday, September 18, 2012

I am not lonely

His eyes stare
Through the brown curls
That hang over His thoughts
He smiles like His picture
Locked into His presence
I can't help but break
He captures my smile


Monday, September 17, 2012

You will love them with that heart of yours



Yesterday I was lucky enough to share a few hours with Deb Ellks who I have known for roughly 20 years, she's a beautiful friend of my aunts , she performed a song at my mothers exhibition so she has always kind of been on my periphery but yesterday she was in my central vision. Her insights and beliefs are rich and full of depth and spending time with her was a privilege....thanks Deb!!



The story I have been telling myself involves the realization of growth and knowing. I know in times of growth and change I really struggle and I usually live in a freaked out state until the wave of change passes.

But today choose to step into the light today, I choose to see the light I radiate and I allow others to also shine their own light too....


The heart covered in cloth

The heart beats with rested ease

The cloth is love

Her hand comforts the place

She searches amongst the rubble and clutter, where she finds the key. It shines a brilliant deep blue. This is the key designed to unlock your cupboard.

Inside that cupboard is your soul

The cupboard has been waiting for this day where unfolding trust is ready

Her hand reaches toward the well polished cupboard that sits amongst your bones and skin. Her hand shakes as she moves the glistening key toward the key hole

Your heart beats faster, for now you realise this a moment of true beauty

As she turns the key you both hear the click sound as the cupboard door unlocks. The tiny door feels free

She opens the door slowly and with care as fear begins to fill you

Fear for what might escape

Fear for what might be seen behind the door

Silence falls completely between you both

She peers in and it is your heart she sees. She pulls it closer

“Where is your flame?” she asks

“My flame?” You respond

“Yes, the warmth that makes you, you.” She says

“I don’t know.” You reply

“Well we need to ignite it, because you can’t live without it.” Again amongst the mess surrounding me she finds a match, which she strikes and leans into your cupboard and in the corner of your heart she ignites a small fire

She stands back, where she can see the tiny flickering of light illuminating the space with an orange and golden radiance

“I see your spirit.” She tells you

“It is beautiful and perfect.”

She moves closer reaching in and shifting your heart slightly

“Don’t be scared" you look into her eyes where you can see the reflection of the quivering flame

“For this is you.” She says.

You begin to feel your insides fill with warmth as the flames grows bigger

The blanket of darkness that covered you both begins to lighten

Looking above, the sky begins to turn in colour from black to green

The horizon tinged with a yellow lining

She too stands and watches the beauty of darkness fade into light

“Its time.” She says taking your hand

“For what?” You reply

“For you to see your own light.” She smiles warmly

“I can’t see it.” You respond trying to look down and in to yourself.

“You must, it’s all there. Can’t you feel it?”

Doubt emerges. You cannot see what she sees

“It’s beautiful my friend. It’s unique. You need not fear anymore.”

She stands back looking at you. She closes the cupboard door.

“I can’t do this for you. I can’t show you.” She smiles.

“You must do this for yourself. Because until then, the flame within you will never burn brightly.”

You feel the warmth begin to subside and you know the flame is losing its lustre

“But I am scared.” You say

“I don’t think I am strong enough to keep my fire burning.”

“But that is where you are wrong.” She takes your hand in hers and a warmth moves between you

“You just need to believe it is there. Because is in all of us we have a spirit that is ignited by self belief. I believe in you and I see your inner beauty radiate. You just need to feel it.”

“What is that I feel within me, that thumping feeling, the warmth?” you rest your hand on your chest

“That is your heart, your shining spirit that is your radiating soul, and it that is what is your flame. And that is what you must never let burn out.”

You take her hand and place it below yours

The yellow glow above you both begins to turn to orange and green to light shades of blue. You both look toward the sky

This is the realisation.


Thursday, September 13, 2012

Times three

Her eyes stare
Through the brown curls
That hang over her thoughts
She smiles like her picture
Locked into her presence
I can't help but break
She captures my smile




Wednesday, September 12, 2012

"Have Mercy on Me"

Music shapes the person I am and the writing that comes from me. "Have Mercy on Me" is a new track from Kasey Chambers and Shane Nicholson. It sings to me about being freed, I'm not too sure of it's origins but it makes me think that all the "things" we fill our lives with will ultimately mean very little...


My eyes threaded shut
As the river of gold
Washes over me
In the land of dreams
You will hear my heartbeat
As you set me free



Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The way they made you

I stay
Holding onto the you
In me
I lay next to
Beneath
And amongst
The bloom in your
Heart
I keep beat
Your rhythm is in
My beatless walk
I judge the wrong
In me to
See the right me
In you


Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Artist and the Slaughtermen ~ The work of Mary Martin

I am Sarah Martin.
I am Mary’s daughter.
I am Jacks eldest granddaughter.

I am a poet.

Mary Martin's show The Artist and the Slaughtermen was opened last Thursday 30 August at Steps Gallery.

Deb Ellks a beautiful friend of my aunts brought a room of vocal people to a quiet hum. Her voice sung in the story of a mother calling home her sons. In this moment I felt like I was blanketed by love as I stood next to my closest friend and beside my grandmother. My brother and family were in my vision, my Dad was holding his head high, my aunts, uncles and cousins were scattered around, my friends caught my eye with smiles.

I stood directly across from my mother who kept smiling at me. Like me she had a heart shift almost two years ago because of this song, this song carried her through the art work, a strong line in the song "the buffalo used to say be what you are...." and here we were witnessing the being of my mother.

Sarah Tomasetti then officially opened the show. This woman in her own right is a talented and gifted artist, but to me she is part of the reason why my mother is successful at HER art. Sarah has a way with my Mum. a way I envy. For the past 20 years she has been undoubtably the "unconditional" in my Mum's life. What Sarah did in opening the show was tie the art with the written story. She held my uncles in silence, commanding the space by telling their story, and speaking their story in a way that allowed them to ONLY feel pride.

My Mum was generous enough to allow myself to show a piece of art along with my two cousins Jack and Jess both talented artists who shone their hearts and I know this is just the beginning of their story telling.

I don't think I've yet taken it all in, but what sits with me is an amazing amount of honor. This was for my family, their story their lives, who they are, who they have made me to be.

My mother has this gift that allows you to get lost in this dreamy like world where you are captured in image and story, and possibly I've grown up with this being my life, for me this isnt anything unnatural or odd.

However, this is probably the first time I've experienced what others experience when they become lost in her work. I know they were there for her, and even though I know they came with an idea, those ideas were blown out upon the winter night air.

Her talent was received. Her story was successful. My mother was present.

I know my life as a visual artist/poet will never be the same, my relationship with art will now be different, my story will now be present.


The story of my grandfather resonates through the whole of the family. He too was a present man, he gave, he was strong, disciplined, provided, was a mate, a worker, a leader, a father, husband and most importantly to myself was a grandfather.

This was his story, their story.

My mothers story.

My story




Below are some shots of our art