Friday, 3 May 2013


Hi, thought for the day maybe? we all lurk around blogs and forums, learning and looking and laughing and crying,
I subscribe to this ladies interesting blog

On here she has posted a poem

A Collector
The things I found
But they'll scatter them again
to the four winds
as soon as I am dead
Old gadgets
fossilised plants and shells
books broken dolls
coloured postcards

And all the words
I have found
my incomplete
my unsatisfied words

Erich Fried
translated by Stuart Hood
(representing Austria in World Poems on the Underground)
This has really resonated with me and my life.  I love to talk, I love to write, great long sentences (if a regular reader you know only too well, there 10 words when two would do) precis, not in my vocab.
What happens to all our utterances through out our years?  We leave behind the broken dolls, the old gadgets, the huge stash of fabric and stuff, oh so much stuff, but our words????
Until this poem I had never considered this, now I am fascinated by it, if only I could translate it to a textile work.  I guess the best way to leave your words is carved on stone or wood as our ancestors did, or wait, now we can consign them to a BLOG, left for all to read until the Internet is completely clogged up and like an old book it gets covered in gesso and painted over
I think I shall do more writing, then cover it and stitch it, or stitch writing to leave behind my words
What do you think?  Am I just plain bonkers or are you inspired to leave behind your words?
Wonderful work, her ladies have words machined all over their skin, such a talented artist, I need to consign my words and thoughts into something tangibile and not just others heads and the air!

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Thank you for your comment, regards Shelagh



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