Wandering in Woodacre – 23 July 2020

Contemporary Thai Art – Pairat Sawasdisara

Below – “cello violin and harp”; “dancer”; “Umbrella girl”; “cello and
violin”; “pink.”


A Poem for Today

“One Thursday Afternoon: Magdalena, Sonora, 1939”
by Alberto Rios

Baltazár went to the market and came home with a parrot.
Thursdays in this town were always just so:

What should have been four big potatoes and some white cheese
Came home in a cage filled with green feathers and two wings.

The mathematics of exchange in this world, the stomach or the heart—
Which of these, how much of one for the other,

Friday would have to sort out. On a Thursday afternoon
The world sang, a full dinner this way coming through the air.

Below – Mukarram Sousli: “Green Parrot”

Contemporary Japanese Art – Kyoko Yoshida

Below – “Tasting For Rolling In Sands”; “Unknown blue”; “Play in sands”; “Like gemstone”; “Somewhere Looking For”; “If We Will Can.”

A Poem for Today

“Mother Talks Back to the Monster”
by Carrie Shipers

Tonight, I dressed my son in astronaut pajamas,
kissed his forehead and tucked him in.
I turned on his night-light and looked for you
in the closet and under the bed. I told him

you were nowhere to be found, but I could smell
your breath, your musty fur. I remember
all your tricks: the jagged shadows on the wall,
click of your claws, the hand that hovered

just above my ankles if I left them exposed.
Since I became a parent I see danger everywhere—
unleashed dogs, sudden fevers, cereal
two days out of date. And even worse

than feeling so much fear is keeping it inside,
trying not to let my love become so tangled
with anxiety my son thinks they’re the same.
When he says he’s seen your tail or heard

your heavy step, I insist that you aren’t real.
Soon he’ll feel too old to tell me his bad dreams.
If you get lonely after he’s asleep, you can
always come downstairs. I’ll be sitting

at the kitchen table with the dishes
I should wash, crumbs I should wipe up.
We can drink hot tea and talk about
the future, how hard it is to be outgrown.

Below – Natalia Bayklova: “Cup of tea”

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