My daughter said

Posted on 20 November 2004

My daughter, when I told her that I was having a hard time writing my blog, told me to bring my coffee to my house in the garden and simply write. So here I am.

The orders for the store are complete, or as close to complete as I can do at the moment. I feel such a weight off me. The spring season will be bright and colourful. With the American dollar lower than it’s been for years, the prices will be more reasonable and hopefully people will love what I’ve chosen (with strong help from the saleswomen in the store) and will be able to afford an outfit or two. But retail is difficult. So many factors affect women’s buying power and desire for beautiful clothing. Partners. The economy. The weather. Self-image. (One woman who was in yesterday said that her husband has agreed to buy her a new wardrobe if she loses twenty pounds. Still she is finding it difficult. I find it difficult to hear of such bribes.)

Last night I went to hear and see Marion Woodman and Robert Bly tell the Grimm’s Brothers tale of “The Singing Soaring Lark.” I was glad that I had read the tale beforehand as I found their telling a little disjointed but still I loved listening to these elders play off each other. I love Woodman’s voice and how she brings a fairy tale into language and meaning that I can relate to. Bly, who I formerly was not that fond of, has grown on me and I find myself liking him more and more.

He read some of his recent poems following the Muslem “Ghazal” form that, I learned on the internet, consists of five to fifteen couplets. A refrain appears at the end of both lines of the first couplet and then at the end of the second line of the following couplets. In the concluding pair of lines, if the poet wishes, she/he brings her/his name into the verse.

For example, this is the first and last couplet of Hafez’ Ghazal 490:

“Bitter is this patience and so fleeting is this life of mine.

How long will I experience this, how long will I remain.

Hafiz, why do you complain if it is Union you desire?

In season and out, griefs cup of blood you must drain.”

I started writing this entry this morning but left to play in the garden and help the rubbish man remove all kinds of debris from our back and front garden. It’s a beginning.

Today is my lazy day and I’m doing a lot of little things and nothing big. I feel that I deserve a break.

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