Number 2 captures how my substack space feels for me. A place for my creative experience to pour out, unpolished, held and witnessed. Thank you for connecting some dots for me.
Thank you for your beautiful words. This touched me in a myriad of ways. For years, I've considered getting a poppy tattoo. For their fragile, yet resilient, beauty, their ethereality and ephemerality and the way that they are one of the (many) symbols of Palestine whose land and people have a special place in my heart. Being severely chronically ill and mostly bedbound myself, the idea of lying dormant for a while only to break through and once again resurrecting and being part of the world's awes is an image that give hope.
Also, that point where flowers are just towards rotting, overripe, open and almost falling apart, reminds me of my deceased mum. She liked flowers the very best at that point, seeing their beauty. While sounding like a cliche, when she in just her early 40's were diagnosed with terminal cancer and died a year later, I cannot help, but think of the immense beauty and strength she showed in those months where I got to know her better than ever before as her blooming.
I love the images you create here, Mara! "to be the ripe & rotting fruit" ..... I let this be my guide at this moment
Thank you Claudia!!! Sending big love to you!!!!! 🌹✨✨✨
Number 2 captures how my substack space feels for me. A place for my creative experience to pour out, unpolished, held and witnessed. Thank you for connecting some dots for me.
Thank you for your beautiful words. This touched me in a myriad of ways. For years, I've considered getting a poppy tattoo. For their fragile, yet resilient, beauty, their ethereality and ephemerality and the way that they are one of the (many) symbols of Palestine whose land and people have a special place in my heart. Being severely chronically ill and mostly bedbound myself, the idea of lying dormant for a while only to break through and once again resurrecting and being part of the world's awes is an image that give hope.
Also, that point where flowers are just towards rotting, overripe, open and almost falling apart, reminds me of my deceased mum. She liked flowers the very best at that point, seeing their beauty. While sounding like a cliche, when she in just her early 40's were diagnosed with terminal cancer and died a year later, I cannot help, but think of the immense beauty and strength she showed in those months where I got to know her better than ever before as her blooming.