Behind a Title

I often write poetry to get through some hard, emotional times. Writing in a flow state without judgement or planning helps me to get a perspective that I otherwise might have missed.

I usually keep these therapeutic and sacred poems for my soul, for me to read back on a year from now and get a glimpse into the girl who struggled but showed up and did the work to get me to this place. 

I often read these poems with wonder and nostalgia because I no longer relate to the person who wrote them. It is a form of child work, for me, letting my inner child speak and be heard, and then honouring her words and reflecting back on them.

Sometimes, bits of these poems make it into my titles. In my experience, flow state is flow state, whether it is with a paint brush and canvas or with a pen and paper. They are both emotionally freeing gifts for me to engage and be wild with, let it all out and then take a step back and see what transpired. What little secrets was I hiding from myself? What little nitty-gritty details made it through the creases of my subconscious?

The process of matching poetry and painting is then very intuitive.

It can also be really messy, which is why I choose to keep these poems for myself until I feel ready to share them.

One of my titles is named after a recent poem. And I want to share it with you here. I think it is a gift to be vulnerable, and I want to honour the vulnerability my paintings and creativity bring out of me.

Does Anyone Know Why We Seek Out These Connections That Fall Through The Cracks Of The Cosmos?

​I shoved a handful of pebbles into the front pouch of my backpack
while you showed me a rock with the universe wrapped around it.
Leaning over me, rolling it in your earth scented fingers,
you said it was a wishing rock.
You tried to skip it over the water.
It plunged into the rusty depth of the lake,
spluttering up spits of reflection.

I asked what you wished for.
You smiled,
the warmth and wrinkles reaching your eyes,
and didn’t tell me,
and I was glad
because I didn’t know you well then,
I just knew that you used words like brusque,
maybe because you wanted to seem 
well read,
maybe because you like words.

Who knows?

Does anyone know why we seek out these connections that fall through the cracks of the cosmos,
that spark
and awe
and fail,
like the rock on water,
like words on a screen.

I’m using the pebbles I stole from the beach on the art I started the week you got scared and decided to give up.

Life is cyclical. The universe does wrap around.

And I still wonder what your wish was.

© Rachel Neale, 2020