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Lune #22 of 25


*A lune (rhymes with moon) is a very short poem. It has only three lines. It is similar to a haiku. A haiku has three lines, and it follows a 5/7/5 syllable pattern. The lune’s syllable pattern is 5/3/5. Since the middle line is limited to three syllables, it is often the shortest line of the three. This makes a lune curve a bit like a crescent moon.

For the next four days, except Saturdays and Sundays, I will share a lune with each of you. This is Lune #22 of this project.

Non-fiction Saturdays

Before I Knew You

Of Vita & Virginia

Two Girls by Egon Schiele-1911

I did not know that pieces of me would fall before you — your hands cradled at the base of my neck, soothing built-up tension — years of me trapped in a soulless body, afraid to seek the light. But, then you came . . . Your wild wonder tempted me — cajoled my heart into order and my mind quickly followed. I will write of you — I will share these words with the world. They must know of your captivating light, of your equally astonishing presence. And, in so doing, I will paint a picture of the moon paired with the sun — the entwining of two bearers of light. Of you. Of me. Of us.

You came, you left your mark/Oh, how lovely is your touch/The splendor of your voice lights up the dark/My love — this heart needs you so much/I know this time of us is short/It’s bleak, at best/But know that with you here, memories become a sport/My days of living, no longer a test.

Your charm, your flattery, how crisp and fresh you were. I leaned into the scent of you and watched my husband watch me yearn to get to know you. Intent — what was it? Was it there? Your writing, ages before mine, popularity could kill the cat with its brute force. You searched for me. Why me? I, this lowly thing of a woman who spent more time with words than with my own species, what lured you to me? Some sort of enigmatic being. Mad. Crazy. Brilliant. Genius. Labeled all these things by those known and unknown to me, yet you sniffed at my feet only once and summed me up in seconds.

Vita, I have no doubt in me, I’ve set it free/Before you, my love will reign/Let’s stick this out, let’s live and be/I have him and you have me, but guide me slowly, please/With you around, I feel supreme, not the same/My mind on pause, my soul at ease.

Caught by your words — by your warm presence. Your skin touching mine, your breath near my lips. I can feel you even when you’re not around. I slip in and out of me, sometimes losing myself to the wind in the trees. I know the walls of institutions — asylum(ed) for the certifiably insane. I know the lies on the tongues about me. I know the truths too. You know what you know, still, you slip your fingers inside my warmth and a world of passion is born. This woman — this woman you found, was not here before.


I came for you in my dreams — determined to make those dreams real. I searched and searched and searched for you. I know what words can do, how they lasso and trap prey. I used mine to call you — to bring you forth. What I did not know, what I could not know, was how easily you would fall into my palms. I have you. You are here. I linger in the lush places of your body — seeping into your skin. I am found in you. You brought me here. In the haven of our restful peace, I am born again. I will never leave you alone, while I travel — my words will keep you company. We will be one. Solidified. United. Us.

I fell for your words, soon fell for your heart/Called you to me, pulled you in close/You came at my beckoning, you knew from the start/My soul caught in the stronghold of yours, permanent pose/We will always be this, we will never part.

I am younger, this is nothing. It will not stop me. My husband knows — he sees us. I tell him of you, of me, of how we can be more. His jealousy is fire but I will not burn. I will run to you, I run to you, I am running to you. At the speed of declining book sales and rapidly spread diseases, I press forward. Unstoppable for you. They threaten the removal of my boys, my money, and my mind, but — I still run to you.

Virginia, it was you, always you/I knew from the moment we met/That night at the party, you stood clearly in view/It’s embedded in my brain now, I cannot forget/I may slip, I may dabble in a few others/But from you, away will never be a thing/We are more than just lovers.

I think it happened. I broke your heart. I am avoiding it, you see. What we need are words — our writing, it strengthens us. I hear it breaking but do nothing. I want you. I don’t want you. I want you. I spiral down quickly and you look for me in the bend of the branches, in the fiber of your clothes. I am in your home, you are in mine. They told me you stood at the rocks, you watched the sea roar. You almost took your life there. I held you in my heart — pulled you out at that moment, you stepped back and away from the sea’s mouth. Not today, you thought. Not today. You lived to love me a little longer.


I became your Orlando. You became my Orlando. I lived on for years. You lived on for years. We are torn apart now. We are torn apart now. We were once whole.

We were once whole.


Author’s Note: Vita & Virginia, 2018, is the true love story of Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West. I watched this movie and instantly felt a connection to both women. Sometimes, we lean into those with whom we can connect the most. As writers, the two of them understood the depth of words and how to market them. On the subject of their love affair, I feel as though Virginia gained more and loss even more than Vita. If you want to know about their story, you can read the article above and watch the movie too. They’re both worth it.


Originally published in Something Sensational via Medium.

Donation

Creative content straight from the mind of an innovator trying to shift the world with her writing.

$1.25

 

demands

Lune #14 of 25

your silly demands
do not fit
the layers of me.


*A lune (rhymes with moon) is a very short poem. It has only three lines. It is similar to a haiku. A haiku has three lines, and it follows a 5/7/5 syllable pattern. The lune’s syllable pattern is 5/3/5. Since the middle line is limited to three syllables, it is often the shortest line of the three. This makes a lune curve a bit like a crescent moon.

For the next twenty-five days, except Saturdays and Sundays, I will share a lune with each of you. This is Lune #14 of this project.

woman’s best friend

Lune #9 of 25

IMG_20200213_202234.jpg
Jernee: Side-eye Queen

Jernee: true blue girl
makes my life
the happiest place.


*A lune (rhymes with moon) is a very short poem. It has only three lines. It is similar to a haiku. A haiku has three lines, and it follows a 5/7/5 syllable pattern. The lune’s syllable pattern is 5/3/5. Since the middle line is limited to three syllables, it is often the shortest line of the three. This makes a lune curve a bit like a crescent moon.

For the next twenty-five days, except Saturdays and Sundays, I will share a lune with each of you. This is Lune #9 of this project.

Non-fiction Saturdays

Experiencing Frida Kahlo

And The Connection Her Art Has To Firsts

Capturing me capturing Frida. Photo by Sherry Kappel

At the invitation of Sherry Kappel, I traveled a stone’s throw away from my city to the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh, North Carolina. The purpose? To meet up with Sherry in order to experience the Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, and Mexican Modernism from the Jacques and Natasha Gelman Collection. I had never been to this museum before. Firsts are nerve-wreckers for me. I knew I’d be around quite a bit of people, perhaps in close proximity to them as well and I tried my best to subdue any anxiety that was drumming up.

Add to this the fact that I would also be meeting the young ones Sherry was hosting from Brazil and I had to talk myself down from becoming a bag of nerves and worry. I cannot be anyone but myself and oftentimes, I worry how I will be perceived.

It was evident moments after meeting the young ones — I had no need to worry or fret. I was met with big smiles and delightful personalities and I was instantly reminded of just how glorious it is (sometimes) to meet new people.

The North Carolina Museum of Art, from what I could cram into my scope with the amount of time allotted, is vast, with structural art pieces perfectly placed on its grounds. To be one of the many people attending this popular exhibition blew my mind. I was going to experience Frida . . . This was huge!

Kahlo’s work is deeply personal, often depicting her own dreams, painful personal experiences, and affinity with Mexican culture, while Rivera’s more public art portrays everyday people swept up in industrial and cultural revolution. — NCMA

I cannot be anyone but myself and oftentimes, I worry how I will be perceived.

Taking in my surroundings, I gave myself a silent pep talk and a pat on the back. The experience would be a remarkable one. And it was.


Calla Lily Vendor, Art by Diego Rivera. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

The layout of the area for the exhibition did not seem overwhelmingly large but big enough for us to wind around several times, getting lost in the indescribable creativity set before us. This was a bucket list event I did not know I wanted, but now, it can be scratched off. The exhibition begins with a few of Diego Rivera’s mural-styled vibrant pieces and some noted others but jumps into the eye-catching portraits of Frida Kahlo as well as many pictures of her and Diego taken by friends and family.

Girasoles (Sunflowers) by Diego Rivera. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Self Portrait with Braid, 1941 by Frida Kahlo. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Frida Kahlo With Magenta Rebozo, “Classic”, 1939 by Nickolas Muray. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

We all filed down the line pressing our eyes upon the many works before us, reading their descriptions, absorbing their intensity, and snapping photos to capture their beauty. Everyone came with their “inside voices” and their “listening ears.” It was as if each of us understood the importance of this first and how Frida Kahlo and her art demands our full attention.

Few artists have captured the public’s imagination with the force of Mexican painter Frida Kahlo (1907–54) and her husband, the Mexican painter and muralist Diego Rivera (1886–1957). The myths that surrounded them in their lifetime arose not only from their significant bodies of work, but also from their friendships (and conflicts) with leading political figures and their passionate, tempestuous personal relationships. — NCMA

It was hard not to snap photos at every turn. I wanted to be able to have my own digital file to reflect upon how exceptional being in attendance for this was for me. Sure, I can rely on my memory to recall the visual displays, but I want to be able to view the details of the pieces I found astounding. And with these photos, I am able to do that for years to come.

Self Portrait with Necklace by Frida Kahlo. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Nickolas Muray, “Frida with Olmeca Figurine, Coyoacán”, 1939. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego, and Señor Xolotl, by Frida Kahlo, 1949. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

The exhibition took about an hour and ten minutes to view. The girls were just as astounded as both Sherry and I and it was interesting to hear their thoughts and their excitement about an artist who lived and was of high caliber status before all of us. What was also evident is that we all seem to have in common great appreciation and love for her work. Not only did we enjoy this first together, but I also had the opportunity to have lunch with all of them. We traveled to a pub-style deli restaurant aptly named Village Deli & Grill not far from the museum.

There, I ordered the shrimp po’boy and sweet potato fries (which was delicious, by the way). While munching on our food, we fell into conversations with the young ones on how different their areas of Brazil are and how at their current view of the United States, the similarities and differences promptly jump out. I was listening to these two young ladies — both very strong-minded and outspoken, share their thoughts and the first thing that popped into my mind was, “I wonder if they write.” What they said and how they said it needed recording or documenting of some kind.

I also thought, “Yes, these are two of the people who will lead us into betterment.” It was a pleasure to watch them express themselves, yet allow one another the floor when necessary. Their cultural differences related to ours stood out and I had no choice but to take notice. I learned a lot during my time spent with them and it all began with an invite and Frida Kahlo. The connection I felt from one common interest is what I needed this past weekend. I am looking forward to many more firsts this year.

I have more growing to do.


Originally published in P.S. I Love You via Medium.

 

Donation

Creative content straight from the mind of an innovator trying to shift the world with her writing.

$1.25