Enga mellom fjella

A snowman cares about our memory of water

Что это Аня? My dream was weird. My mother had forced me to join the military. The aforementioned phrase stuck in my head. A song kept going through my mind this morning:



Why these odd associations? My parents would've sent me to Canada before they offered me as meat to the military back in '72. I studied Russian in Costa Rica in '74 ... in Spanish. The song I heard through Marvin (a Honduran who visited me and then went to live in Canada) in '91 ... I think; the title translates as "Let me cry". Anabel mentioned Anya (her daughter, Beanie) in her blog this past week; Что это Аня? = "What is this Anya?".

One could take these odd thoughts and weave a story, I'm sure ...

A snowman cares about our memory of water

We melt into pastels,
ooze onto wove-tight canvas,
dry in the vaults of minds,
in museums
revealed as stains on whitewashed walls:
outlines clear, but gossamer,
insides translucent as ice.
In this world of freeze and thaw,
of mist upon a southern breeze,
a snowman sees
us through short-lived endeavors,
our wonderment, our awe,
for only water
contains forever.

© 2009 Kåre Enga [166.19] 2009-04-02

The title comes from the installation of art by Mary Ann Papanek-Miller in the Missoula Art Museum, Montana. This is an example of an ekphrastic poem.

blah-blah-BLAH-blah-blah:

I played a hand wrong at MahJong Saturday morning ... oh, I completed it alright. It was supposed to be "concealed". And I didn't. We are playing by 2009 rules now and the hands have changed. Saw Rose, Carol, Nancy, Ann.

I signed up for workshops on ekphrastic art at the MAM on Mondays; they were canceled, then uncanceled. So, I'm staying in town through the end of April it seems.

By 5:30 pm I was tuckered out and wandered home.

Sunday: staring at sunshine. Washing clothes. Waiting until it warmed up a bit to go for a walk ... to search for Spring!

And found it! Sniffed some hyacinths; took a photo of dandelions.

Monday morn: Just found out who left an iron skillet at my door! It was my neighbor Lavinia, who is going to go get lost somewhere today and burn some stuff.

Montana: 45º at noon

grape hyacinth iris daffodils iris crocus hyacinth dandelion

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