Christina’s Worldview

*An ekphrastic poem is a poem inspired by art, usually, though not always, images.

“Christina’s World” has always been one of my favorite paintings, though I couldn’t tell you why.  I just think that’s how it is with art sometimes.

16.1949

Wyeth, Andrew

~

Wheat-colored grass fields
separate her from the chaff
that has been home since she was
a little stranger,
through kith and kin.
She is at large from her world
that has become small:
fourteen rooms,
four walls,
and Maine land as far as she can crawl—
not as a child,
but as a woman whose feet trail behind her
like tin cans on a honeymoon car,
her legs like the strings that connect them,
her spirit soaring above the plain.

Across the Sea

The day dawn is breaking,
the moon and stars are fading.
The cool water shimmers,
and I am but a glimmer
who floats with the flow.
I am not numb,
yet I feel no pain.

I have the vision of an eagle,
the hearing of an owl,
the smell of a bloodhound,
the taste buds of a child.
I am experiencing everything wonderful
all at once,
and I’ve only been out at sea for two days.

The morning ripens into afternoon,
the afternoon deepens into twilight,
and then the evening turns purple then black,
like a bruise.
The earth is dying once more,
only to be reborn with the coming sun.

I think of my husband,
then my child—
who was carried out like me,
many years ago now.
Never forgotten,
never found.

The coastline of Maine is becoming nearer,
clearer–
I am so close.

It is the third day.

I see my husband standing on the sandbar,
looking neither near nor far.
“If ever I am lost,
I will find my way back to you,” I had said,
but he hadn’t believed me,
or so I had thought.

The tide carries me,
and I splash around his ankles,
for I am but ashes.

Having fun with lists and languages

Let me preface this by saying that I am not a fan of Shakespeare.  I have always found  his work boring (even though I’m supposed to like it).  Maybe there isn’t enough yolk in my head to like what I have been told is one of the greats.  However, I do think it is possible to appreciate something without liking it.  Shakespeare did invent many new words, many of which I like, so, I came up with a few myself.

Snowblowhard:  one who chooses to live in the South, but complains about everything Southern (like the weather, for instance).  A friend of a friend (on Facebook)  referred to Florida Christmases as fake because we didn’t have snow.

Raggedbagger:  woman who carries a designer handbag while dressed like a bum.

Paddyfibber:  one who claims to be Irish on St. Patrick’s Day.

Stackie (see shelfie:  http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shelfie):  a stack, or tower, of books that have not yet made it to a shelf.

Crucifixation (I can’t take credit for this one, as my brother made it up):  one who is fascinated by the macabre elements of religion (exorcism, speaking in tongues, etc.).

Manicurist:  I know this is already a word, but I think it should be brought back.  Nail technician just isn’t an accurate of a description, and this is coming from someone who was an administrative assistant (which is really a glorified secretary with receptionist duties).

Multi-tabber (liken to multi-tasker)–one who has at least several tabs open on their Internet at one time.  This is me.

Mom joke (a.k.a. lame joke):  if you knew my mom, you’d understand.  An example of a mom joke:  Q:  What did the one casket say to the other casket that had a cold?  A:  Is that you coffin?

Femoir:  a fake memoir.  See:  http://listverse.com/2010/03/06/top-10-infamous-fake-memoirs/

Fictionary:  This list!

~

Maybe one of the amendments to my list of New Year’s Resolutions should be to learn at least one new word a day, but to learn that new word, I have to use it.

One of the reasons I enjoyed the Shopaholic series so much was because it was set in England, and I learned some British words/slang.  One of my favorite English phrases is “cheesed off” (which means disgusted or fed up).

When I lived in Montana, they used the word “spendy” to mean pricey.  In Southeast Missouri, where my family is from, they use the term “whopper-jawed” (I think that means jacked-up), and my parents still say “warsh” instead of “wash.”

Local lingo adds an authentic flavor to a piece of writing.  A setting is an important character, even if the place is made up.  I’d rather see an author make up a setting than do injustice to a real one.  Peyton Place was made up but felt very real (I’m referring to the movie and not the book).  Of course, it was based on a real place, like Sinclair Lewis’s Zenith, Missouri, in Elmer Gantry (another example where the movie was far better than the book).  Even Oz felt like a real place–just not on Earth.

One of the many reasons I love Christian author Linda Hall’s books is because almost all of them are set in Maine–a place I’d love to visit someday.  I also tend to gravitate towards books set in New Orleans (ironically, a place I have no desire to visit); the only reason I read any of Elin Hilderbrand’s novels was because most of them were set on Nantucket Island (where I’ve wanted to visit ever since I became a fan of the Wings TV series).  Dorothea Benton Frank’s Sullivan’s Island has made me want to go there, too.  However, the last two authors only made me want to visit the settings of their novels, not read another one.

Setting is great, but character still matters.

Updated 1/13/2020