مقال عن الحية

كاتب وأم الذي تعمل مع التعليم المنزلي. أحب أن أقرأ موقعها الكتروني وهناك مقال عن الحية:

http://mysocalledlifeandotherlies.blogspot.co.uk/2011/02/state-of-loss-and-choice.html

زوج وزوجته

 انا اشاهد هذا الفيلم واشاهد وجوه الرجل والامراة.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b06f146k/storyville-20142015-28-a-syrian-love-story

5. انا سعيدة - لماذا؟

 انا سعيدة 

انا سعيدة, انا لا سعيدة, انا سعيدة

الطقس بارد, الطقس معتدل مع الشمس, الطقس بارد

لماذا؟

لان منذ ٢٠١١ اريد ان اقراء تووتر

لان اريد ان افهم نبيل رجب في الفيديو عندما يتكلم عن الحقوق الانسان

4. البيوت والشقق

البيت مع قطة على سرير وحديقة مع عشب الطويل

الشقة مع الرطوبة والسمك

الشقة مع كرسي المستدير وحمام الجديد

البيت مع سلال !... سلام !...  مع سلالم ضيق وكتب كثيرة في غرفة جلوس.

3. صباحا

.صباحا  لا اريد ان افتح العيون، ولكن التفكير عن أمي، أبي، أخي،

افعل الجمل في رأسي مع كلماتي

احب الدافئة والصمت

 أشعر قلبي والجهاز التنفسي

Julie Whiting - Hitting this wall - Other walls - Names

Hitting this wall

It has taken weeks to realise what caused me to hit this particular wall. It was reading a poem by my friend Julie Whiting. It is one of a series, not yet published.

I had thought I'd be drinking my Lebanese coffee with lots of sugar in the sunshine and generally feeling at peace.

Instead I was doing two things.

Looking across the street, gazing through the lamp posts and cars, holding thoughts in my head.

Then I would be looking at the words, perhaps two at a time as I read across the lines. The moment I'd start doing this I would sense the air touching my arm, face, neck. At the same time I would have in my mind the images or facts from a few lines further back in my head.

After that I would shift to looking across the street again and would stop perceiving the air moving over me, why?

This happened every time I looked down then looked up again.

I don't want to give the game away by talking about the poem. You might get to read it one day. Read it fresh, without expecting it.

Other walls

Not wanting time to move forward. Stay still, move slowly, don't disappear. If I have to wait for things, then that's how it is.

Names 

The Waterstone's in the centre of Oxford has the best poetry section. I read the names on the spines. All these names I know. I can't read the collections or even one poem, but I can read the names.

Anthony Wilson - Lifesaving Poems

This is the last book I read before stopping for a while. Since I cannot take in poetry at all at the moment, I just read his prose comments on each writer.

Anthony Wilson set himself a task of writing out one poem from each writer who meant the most to him. He then explained why he made those choices on his blog several years ago.

Really the book is about Poetry Exhaustion. He knows of several varieties of it. Arriving for no reason. Arriving after being 'too ready to follow every whim', ie reading too much, sheer greediness. There must be others.

'all we really have as poets is the process' page 122

The book is stuffed with names of poets and collections, so it would be helpful for anyone at a loss to know what to read next.

My problem is that even a few words are too dense, I don't want them. The night sky and the full moon is enough. Music in the car and the Proms on Radio 3. All my ill friends.

Still poetried-out

but getting interesting flashes or revelations. Not in a religious cave type way, but in a connecting my dots helpful way.

so

... continue with doing pairs of poems while half ignoring the Proms

... go on more rainy walks, as long as I have one pair of dry shoes/boots I can go out there

... try doing a series on my most touchy and difficult subject. Well, which one? I must have half a dozen 'don't go there' subjects

... continue with my Friday Evenings, I have wanted to do this for absolute years, I needed a certain question a while back to help me realise this

... live in the now, ie replace light bulbs and go to Sainsburys to buy more light bulbs and bleach

... raise my eyes in astonishment at the fact that I am able to read the second piece in an Arabic text book from the 80's a neighbour has lent me for 2 years so far!, it has all sorts of combinations of letters which have foxed me in my other books, but this one has explanations :)

I was about to return it to her unread, but decided to give it one last chance. Since I couldn't follow the first piece, I tried the second one and it was so much clearer. Never be surprised by anything when learning/forgeting a language. There is more forgetting than remembering, that's my tip to everyone. How many rivulets of rain are needed to create a dip and then a tiny river? Lots.

Being shouted at - Listening - Virtual grandmother

Once I was shouted at so intensely that all I saw was the rectangular box of the mouth and the two eyes. I took in none of the words, apart from the fact that there was no swearing. My reply was full of swearing.

In contrast I sat in a friend's kitchen today, holding a mug of coffee, waiting for her to say more, for her face to keep on shifting, for her thoughts to come. I asked some questions and listened to the words she used.

A new game has come along, Fall Out Shelter. It involves many things, but all I care about is the babies! H announced he'd got 3 on the way! I kept on asking if the mothers had gone into labour yet. Eventually he rushed into the kitchen and showed me that the first one had been born. I was so thrilled :) Over the next 15 mins the others arrived.

My mother in law came in, so we told her about one virtual baby. We didn't let on about the other two, she was shocked enough by just one :)

The waves keep on breaking

So, I take part in a project; meet someone at their event; meet their wife, family, friends, previous tutor; read their book; and then they die just 3 weeks later.

The libraries and museums still stand, everything is the same.

Is it horrifying or reassuring?

Is it anything at all?

I sent a beautiful card with 2 birds on a branch which would have reached them both before he died, before they were parted.

I consider being searched by eyesight across a room.

Will I do that to people, staring openly, with eyes like dinner plates, when I am older?

Yes, I need to talk to you again (my imaginary tutor)

hi
yes, hallo, what's up?
i am having different problems
ok, tell me then
this is like a doctor, doctor joke...
no, it's not, be serious, don't waste my time
ok, i am trying to read collections of poetry. ones written by people i know, or ones which get to the top of my pile
you do realise that reading a collection is a big ask
yes, that's what i am finding
so, what exactly is your problem?
i hadn't expected it to take so much time and energy
...?
or to be so draining to write about
...?
or to matter so much
...?
or to want to do it seriously
...?
or to see the summer getting hotter and my book stack getting higher too, not smaller
...?
how can i read enough if time just rushes on like this?
...?
how can i, i don't know
have a piece of this chocolate and sit in the garden with a glass of what i am having
you do know that all this is totally normal, it's your problem though and i can only listen
life is swift and can be chopped just like that
how are things with you and your to-do list
great, thanks, i revise it each day, and i have a what's going on section so i remind myself of the big events which are in the background at the moment..actually i have missed out a humdinger of a situation on that list, i will go and add that to my consciousness. it's surprisingly easy to deny that something is going on.
i'm glad it's working for you at the moment. have you finished now?
...yes, thanks, do i have to stop talking about it now?
well, let's pretend the timer has just gone beep, beep, beep and it's now time to be one person again and wander in the imaginary blog garden
...this is falling apart..
end

...

With apologies to Anthony Wilson and his conversations with his book. I haven't meant to copy what he is doing, but it does look like that. Oh well, go and read his blog, it's a mine of treasures.

I need a tutor

Since I am closest, I'll have to pretend to know what to do. So week 1: Nice to meet you. Why do you need a tutor? Because I am not focusing clearly enough. Ah! That's normal. Where is your to do list? Somewhere. I've lost it. That's normal too. Could you go away and only come back once you have made a simple to do list to show me? Goodbye. That was quick!! She's a good tutor, has seen it all before and doesn't waste my time.

Kevin Reid - for-now - a sequence of poems and photographs

No introductions, work it out for yourself:

http://eyeosphere.com/for-now/

Feeling twins - Looking at bed linen - Alan Buckley

A pregnant woman invited me to feel her twins

I felt the instantly familiar sensation of the surface of the belly, with the baby's head moving in the waters a few millimeters away. I never thought I'd feel that again. I can't bring it to mind, it is a sensation my hand recognised and my primitive mind, but not my conscious mind. I have no words for it at all.

Bed Linen

Maybe it is ok to buy a soft mattress topper, fresh pillows and a super soft synthetic duvet. Create a nest of simple pleasures. Knowing how to do without these things is necessary, but I don't have to live in a war zone any more.

Memories of that lumpy because of springs mattress in Edinburgh are funny in retrospect. Using the end of the duvet as my pillow because there was no pillow, of any sort. Did that box room have a window onto the hallway? If it did, the light would have shone in at night, so it probably had no window at all. It was a big cupboard.

In Paris I used to trust that the cockroaches would not learn how to climb up the bed legs. I guessed the bed was far enough away from the kitchen area to not be attractive to them...all the time knowing they only came out in the dark, and that whenever I brought a friend back I'd keep her talking in the hall while I turned on the light and let them have time to scuttle away.. The horror.

Even here I had a wasps' nest in the wooden beam last summer. It emitted wasps day and night. I must be very calm to sleep amongst all that. They made their slow way to the window, but kept on stopping off to buzz round the light. In the dark they buzzed around the room, but I don't hear much, so slept through it all, though I kept the sheet right up to my nose and over my ear as a precaution.

Alan Buckley

We had a great workshop on redrafting poems. I love taking a knife to a sheet of words, gently teasing out exactly what I want out of it.

I made a haiku out of one. That could be a private entertainment and way of focusing right in on what any poem is saying to me. Or it would be like taking some phrases and making a simple display of them, from a much wider choice. No limits to the number of tiny poems I could make from the bigger source poem. With acknowledgements of course.

My mind goes back to the Ashmolean Museum with a particular cabinet in the basement I sit with every time I visit. I want to leave a small love letter to the curator for being so clear with the displays. All those choices made from a much bigger set of items, a sophisticated version of what I do at work now.

What else? We all went quiet when he read out the poem to his ex-girlfriend Katie, who died nearly 6 years ago. How many of us have had to experience that? I have always assumed a dignified and calm silence was the best way out of any ended relationship, but life might overtake that stance I suppose.

The poem on the whippets and running was wonderful. That silence came over us again for that one.

Mothers use their bodies

I had a little think as I was standing in the kitchen. Last autumn was very stressful.

I used my body to sleep on my mother in law's sofa the night she came home from hospital, just in case. Then I used it to sleep on our own sofa, a few rooms further away from her, but still near her door, just in case.

Only 2 weeks later I used my body again, to sleep in my mother's double guest bed, which I would have shared with her, only she then decided to be in with my father, but I was there on the floor above them, just in case.

This Easter holidays, it's a bit of a theme.., both T and H were unwell, along with me, so I lurked on the sofa, feeling dizzy when lying down, but better when I was sitting up. In good moments I used my body as a mother to investigate rooms which might have needed help (bleach...), put the laundry on, then went back to not ruling the household with my eyes shut and feeling odd.

When I can, I sit in the kitchen using this laptop, which means I can be asked to move money from account to account, or listen to words. Even the cat wants me, so sometimes I have time to sit and let her fall asleep, sprawling her furry arms and legs in different ways each time.

Not being there is profoundly wrong, yet sometimes has to be done. Is there a being there which doesn't include the body? No, there's no getting round that fact.

Walking from Summertown to Broad Street in the sun

I am getting to the point of not quite believing that all I have to do to hear my mother's voice is phone her. It is becoming less normal and more miraculous. She really does answer and really does speak in real time to me as I walk down a noisy road.

She even calls me back because my phone is the one with a small amount of credit on it. I don't even feel embarrassed to ask her to do that. Anything is ok now I feel.

So I update her on my plans, it feels different to detail where I am with neutral words, just sharing facts. It's temporary, it's a stepping stone, I'll see how it goes, I have to give details for the referencing process, the paperwork hasn't been signed yet.

Try not to criticise anyone, try not to swear. Though yesterday I had a right-old rant with 2 people I know well! After that I went back to careful-speak mode again.

...

There is so much to learn, silver markings, china manufacturers, getting a sense for what is worth what. I need my own loup with a little LED light in it. Various cleaning fluids to make the glass and china look beautiful.

Soon I'll go back to the Ashmolean simply to examine how items are displayed. I want to look at their mix of colours and shapes in each space. All these little worlds, independent of each other. Different varieties of beauty and contrast.

I fiddle around with the displays, putting eye-catching items by the street window, wanting them to be bought straight away!

Valentine to the Turbine Hall - Surprise in Tate Britain - Writing

I think this may have been the first thing I ever saw at the Tate Modern. I'd made it to London while the children were small and somehow got there on my own. It was hushed and humming at the same time. People were in a trance, lying down or standing there. There was some sort of mist in the air. It was huge, vast, eternal. (I had deleted this section, but now I want it back in again.)

I could just look up and up.I had heard how big it all was, and knew it was what I needed. I still need it now. I am always on my own, taking my own time, not explaining myself to anyone. I could visit a railway station for exactly the same reason, or just wait for a train. 

In fact that's the story of my school and working life, waiting and waiting for trains, on my own, just looking at the rails, the ceilings and the wires looping along the walls in the blackness. Or standing in the train reading and finding myself thinking parallel thoughts at the same time. 

Surprise in Tate Britain

I took much longer enjoying this. I thought that looking at it intently would bring other people over to look too. No chance. So, what's wrong with people in London? I imagined my mother in law's hamster exploring the little world in there :) I wanted to touch the solids/stones/rocks/unearthly extrusions, but pulled back, just let my eyes linger on them. The sand and the combination of orderliness and confusion made me happy too.

Writing hints

I have been all wrong since the autumn. Why is that? Anyhow, I am having to explore my own silences and experience new sensations. Each writing year is different from the one before. IOWA and 52 last year. My Didcot poetry group of 3 is this year's event, plus the ongoing discussions on the Hall Writers' Forum. Slant is new, feels too public after the intense intimacy, privacy and trust in 52. I also have Poetry at the Ashmolean, that's new and I'm simply observing so far. Reading collections in an intent way and writing about them is new. It takes much more effort than I'd expected.

“I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten — happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another. ”

― Brenda Ueland

“I remember standing on a street corner with the black painter Beauford Delaney down in the Village, waiting for the light to change, and he pointed down and said, ‘Look.’ I looked and all I saw was water. And he said, ‘Look again,’ which I did, and I saw oil on the water and the city reflected in the puddle. It was a great revelation to me. I can’t explain it. He taught me how to see, and how to trust what I saw. Painters have often taught writers how to see. And once you’ve had that experience, you see differently.”

— James Baldwin

“We have come to think that duty should come first. I disagree. Duty should be a by-product. Writing, the creative effort, the use of the imagination, should come first – at least, for some part of every day of your life. It is a wonderful blessing if you use it. You will become happier, more enlightened, alive, impassioned, light-hearted and generous to everybody else. Even your health will improve. Colds will disappear and all the other ailments of discouragement and boredom.”

― Brenda Ueland (again).

From: http://flavorwire.com/512781/20-great-writers-on-motivating-yourself-to-write-no-matter-what/view-all

Black Light Engine Room Press - Close-Up - 6 Breaths

A Press

https://theblacklightengineroom.wordpress.com/

Close-Up

Film: Close-Up by Abbas Kiarostami. Slow paced, peaceful, confusing. I pondered the need for people to tell their story. Lionel Blue described this aspect of his work as a rabbi approving or permitting divorces. I also pondered the role of a judge, much of my life as a mother is being a judge. Being a half-informed person in authority, learning from what I do see.

6 Breaths

If I want to, I can sit quietly and breathe 6 breaths as the easiest possible meditation. 6 being the date today. So a side effect will be knowing what day of the month it is.

Forrester Bess - Icon - A34 crash

Forrester Bess

I don't usually do this. Just seeing the pictures in the article I am linking to has done some strange things to my mind. The pictures are so simple and intense. They remind me of times I spent at an art table maybe 10/12 years ago.

We would go over there and paint whatever needed to be painted. I recognise that need to put things down. Seeing the other man do his painting in his own world was helpful to see. We didn't have to talk to each other or do anything at all in fact. He put his paint right across big sheets of paper with a heavy roller.

I have had to do some writing after seeing these pictures briefly.

Icon

My aunt Caroline's things came to me yesterday, via my brother driving up with a car load. So now I have a small icon. Unreadable script. I shall have to google image various possible scripts to find out which one it is, then type it into google translate using the appropriate keyboard.

When a person is alive their things are around them. The person turns up at family parties and smokes. When they are dead they things arrive in my house, item by item. I can sit on their chair, stir my soup with their wooden spoon and look cautiously at an icon with its patterns of dots over the metal.

Massive crash

The A34 was shut southbound today because a car transporter went through the crash barrier and right onto the grass by a rising slope over beyond the far side of the other carriageway. It met a van as it went I hear.

We missed this by 15/20 minutes. Do I drive more slowly because of this? Keep my distance more? Pump up my tyres more often?

The people I was due to see this morning had been hoping I was ok. So these drives day after day cause anxiety to others. I can't do anything differently apart from moving house to Kidlington for the next 2 1/2 years. That might be healthier.

Tidy desk - New Term - Shift

Tidy desk/Tidy mind

I once worked in an office with many other normal people, plus one man who got on with everyone, dressed very nicely, made the most money and had a tidy desk.

One day I went up to him and asked him how he did it. I wish I could remember his answer. Everyone listened in because he was such a hero, respected by us all.

He had a particularly unfortunate surname too, so maybe he'd had to learn very early on to overcome it with his good qualities.

Arabic Term Restart

New term/New clear desk. I have had to file all my other activities and just leave my homework on my desk. It feels good.

Boast: I use my complicated, but surprisingly accurate chart of verb forms, so see if a verb is indeed one of the 2 to 10 forms. I am amazed each time the meaning in the dictionary matches with the number on the chart.

I did find 2 typos in there a year ago, but didn't mark the surface with a biro, so they are uncorrected. The English letters don't match the tiny, faint Arabic accents in 2 places. That sort of thing bugs me. It should be 100% accurate.

Sudden Shift

Something has happened to me. A problem I have had since the age of 14 has left me. I noticed a week or two ago. I couldn't pin it to a particular day. I have tried for years to solve that problem, then it just goes all at once, in response to something over Christmas time. Miraculous events... But what on earth was the trigger for this change?