Friday, April 5, 2013

Poetry Friday Comes With Cupped Hands



Welcome to Day 5 of Drawing Into Poems, my daily drawing/seeing/writing study into poetry.  You can read more about this month-long project here on my April 1 post.  Feel free to read the books with me and pull out your own sketchbook and jewelry box full of metaphor too...

As a part of this project, you may remember that along with the daily drawings, I will be posting at-least-weekly poems inspired somehow by that week's drawings.  Here is my first one.


I will add audio to this poem by weekend's end.

Students - If you look back at my April 4 sketch, you will find this note written in the margin -  - "a tiny bowl is like a handful - maybe 2 cupped hands..."


When I pored over my first few drawings of this month's project, this image of two cupped hands is what stuck to my heart.  There is something very intimate about cupped hands, and writing about them today made me think about many other movements we make with our hands: shaking hands, holding hands, holding pencils, throwing baseballs...the list could go on and on.  I may write more poems to go with this one.  You might too.

Today's poem mixes up the senses a little bit.  One cannot really taste a dream of old coyotes in real life.  But in a poem, you can do anything, and it is important to try anything. You might wish to try this in your own writing: jumble your senses.  Let a color have a sound, or describe the feel of your kitty's purr.  These are not the usual ways we use our senses, but experimenting with unusual and magical sensory connections can add a mysterious and almost hauntingly lovely quality to a line or two.

Please let me know if you try this. I would love to read what you write.

(When I awoke this morning, I remembered another one of my special-tasting-drink poems.  You can read Warm Drink from January!)

And here is the drawing of the day: my own foot in my own shoe.

Day Five - My New Old Shoe

Students - It was interesting to draw my shoe yesterday.  We were waiting for the train to arrive here  in DC, and the train was twelve minutes away.  When my daughter suggested that I try to do my whole sketch in that amount of time, I thought, "Why not?"  I recommend that you try this too.  Set a timer.  Maybe ten minutes, maybe five, maybe twelve or twenty.  Then see what grows in that amount of time.  Sometimes I think that a time limit helps us to push through any nervousness about jumping in.  (I did the notes after the twelve minutes were up.)

Robyn Hood Black is hosting today's Poetry Friday roundup at Life on the Deckle Edge.  If you're new to Poetry Friday, this means that at Robyn's blog, you will find links to many different poem posts around the Kidlitosphere today. We welcome you to join us every Friday, all year long, as we celebrate, share, and write poetry together.

A Bowl to Hold
Photo by Amy LV

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9 comments:

Tabatha said...

Your drawings remind me of Mollie Katzen's drawings in the first Moosewood Cookbook. (Am I remembering the book correctly?) They felt so personal, like an intimate conversation. I like the idea of doing it quickly, without worrying about how it turns out.

Irene Latham said...

A 12 minute shoe! Wonderful, Amy. I like a rounded toe too. :)

Robyn Hood Black said...

Have I told you today how much I'm in love with your Poetry Month project? It's just marvelous. I REALLY love your poem today - those "old coyotes" and "sun-warm deer" and the moonlight.

I like Tabatha's comment, too - we have the Moosewood Cookbook (two versions, actually) on our kitchen shelves!

Keep up the inspired work. :0)

Matt Forrest Esenwine said...

Having practically grown up in the woods, I can readily identify with your poem...nicely done, Amy!

Ruth said...

I love the "dream of old coyotes" and "sun-warm deer."

jama said...

Beautiful poem, Amy. :)

Joy said...

Amy,
I still believe we are kindred spirits. My PFAMS video showed hand gestures and now you write a fantastic poem about cupped hands. I loved your poem. The art work is lovely too. Your daughter has great suggestions. Keep up the good work.
Are you familiar with ART JOURNALING magazine?

Penny Klostermann said...

I love your poem. I grew up in the mountains of Colorado and there were many days that my 3 sisters and I stopped for a drink in a mountain stream while we were hiking and playing. So...sweet memories were brought to mind as I read your words!

Doraine Bennett said...

Very nice, Amy!