Cheryl Snell's Blog, page 35
May 17, 2011
Birthdays
Mother turns ninety today. We are in the midst of a three-day celebration, with lots of gifts, flowers, cake and music. It's quite enough for her, but a traditional Hindu birthday celebration certainly would have tired her out.
The night before the big day, we would have had to gather 5 types of auspicious things representing the 5 elements of the Earth, i.e. the conch for water, sandalwood for land, etc . . . and placed them all where they would have been the first things the birthday girl would see upon awakening. If she had not been Episcopalian, she would have invoked Lord Shiva by chanting his Gayatri 21 times, and after that, the Shiva Namavali ( 108 Holy Names Of Lord Shiva ) and then the Rudram, 3 times. A ghee lamp would have been lit before the chanting and someone (probably me!) would have been charged with making sure it stayed lit for the entire 3 days of celebration .
On the big day, well-wishers would have visited. Which they did, in the real-life version of this scenario. Afterward, Mother's footprint in sand would have been taken by the man of the house. (My brother? Can't quite see that.) Later (after the sixth pooja), kum kum powder, the footprint , betel leaves, and lit camphor would have been placed alongside the ghee lamp on a tray and circled 9 times around Mother's head. With the evil eye warded off, we begin, on two continents and in our respective ways, to herald Mother's ninety-first year.
The night before the big day, we would have had to gather 5 types of auspicious things representing the 5 elements of the Earth, i.e. the conch for water, sandalwood for land, etc . . . and placed them all where they would have been the first things the birthday girl would see upon awakening. If she had not been Episcopalian, she would have invoked Lord Shiva by chanting his Gayatri 21 times, and after that, the Shiva Namavali ( 108 Holy Names Of Lord Shiva ) and then the Rudram, 3 times. A ghee lamp would have been lit before the chanting and someone (probably me!) would have been charged with making sure it stayed lit for the entire 3 days of celebration .
On the big day, well-wishers would have visited. Which they did, in the real-life version of this scenario. Afterward, Mother's footprint in sand would have been taken by the man of the house. (My brother? Can't quite see that.) Later (after the sixth pooja), kum kum powder, the footprint , betel leaves, and lit camphor would have been placed alongside the ghee lamp on a tray and circled 9 times around Mother's head. With the evil eye warded off, we begin, on two continents and in our respective ways, to herald Mother's ninety-first year.
May 15, 2011
Tim Buck
"Janet's compelling, expressionistic paintings complement Cheryl's poems. Those paintings make the noise of the world instantly go silent...haunting, improbable, fascinating, complex images. Those poems cast to the reader quixotic observations, existential moods, amorous enigmas."
Thanks to musician and writer Tim Buck for this wonderful mention. My sister and I have come to count on his trenchant observations and penetrating opinions on music, art,and writing. Did he say anything about this? we ask one another when we post a new piece. If he did, we know we are on the right track.
Thanks to musician and writer Tim Buck for this wonderful mention. My sister and I have come to count on his trenchant observations and penetrating opinions on music, art,and writing. Did he say anything about this? we ask one another when we post a new piece. If he did, we know we are on the right track.
May 14, 2011
May 13, 2011
May 10, 2011
May 7, 2011
New!
My sister Janet and I are pleased to announce the publication of our collection Fusion,a series of expressionist drawings accompanied by poems derived from the image.
Available in these formats:
Paperback
Hardcover
Free download
May 4, 2011
Dream House in Scribd
Thanks, Scribd for choosing my poetry chapbook Dream House as a staff favorite for the National Poetry Month Community Collection!
May 1, 2011
Winners!
Thanks to all who entered the National Poetry Month's Big Poetry Giveaway,organized by the fabulous Kelli Russel Agodon. The winner of Pat Farngoli's Duties of the Spirit is Angela Vogel and my own Samsara goes to
April 29, 2011
A Meme for NaPo
This is a meme for poets who participated in NaPoWriMo. Answers by moi.
Consider yourself tagged, gentle Reader!
Number of poems written in April.
-thirty, plus some scraps
Number of poems you'll keep and revise.
-twenty seven
List the titles of your top three NaPoWriMo poems.
-Circle Theory, Over,The Body is a Throwaway Thing
List your three least favorite NaPoWriMo poems.
-This changes each time I look.
Favorite image from one of your NaPoWriMo poems.
-the sea leaping with miracle
Favorite line by a NaPoWriMo participant.
-Belay me with melodic chime/from your township's river (Sherry O'Keefe)
What surprised you most about writing a poem a day?
-Interpreting my sister's art narrowed my focus in a good way..
Now that you've started the momentum, what's next?
-I hope to organize the poems and Janet's drawings into a coherent whole that connects each art to the other and to the reader.
Consider yourself tagged, gentle Reader!
Number of poems written in April.
-thirty, plus some scraps
Number of poems you'll keep and revise.
-twenty seven
List the titles of your top three NaPoWriMo poems.
-Circle Theory, Over,The Body is a Throwaway Thing
List your three least favorite NaPoWriMo poems.
-This changes each time I look.
Favorite image from one of your NaPoWriMo poems.
-the sea leaping with miracle
Favorite line by a NaPoWriMo participant.
-Belay me with melodic chime/from your township's river (Sherry O'Keefe)
What surprised you most about writing a poem a day?
-Interpreting my sister's art narrowed my focus in a good way..
Now that you've started the momentum, what's next?
-I hope to organize the poems and Janet's drawings into a coherent whole that connects each art to the other and to the reader.
April 28, 2011
NaPo 30
Hocus Pocus
A magician pulls an angel
out of his hat by its ears.
It rises to the roof of his life, cursing:
I come to you
limbs tucked in
with misdirected prayers.
I messenger them anyway,
while you perform
with your chameleon silks
and bottomless bottles,
that trick with smoke and mirrors.
When you feint death,
your assistant sawed in half with worry,
that's the time you feel me near.
And when I vanish like an old gold coin,
(your dirty angel)
I can see you almost believe in me.
