Watermark

Who catches you . . . ?

 

 

For Collage Play with Crowabout, Take a Word (Friends) and Collage Obsession (Blues)

 

[Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

 

 

Friday Cat Blogging - Abducted by Digi

 

 

I've been sucked into the strange, female world of digital art journaling. It is mostly women who do this, art journaling and scrapbooking. I suspect there are more men doing it than is apparent, but hiding in pseudonyms or not participating in forums. 

There is a sort of matter-of-fact sexism in this world, an acceptance, without comment, of the preponderance of women and the absence of men. A casual acceptance that it is (of course?) women who document the lives of their children and grandchildren; women who take the time and energy to explore and express their own internal lives. 

I have not counted, this is anecdotal, but most seem to be young mothers or older grandmothers, many with disabled children or who are struggling with some illness of their own. This makes sense, I expect. Both groups are likely to be home, and perhaps somewhat isolated, in need of human contact. 

These hobbies provide creative outlets and the opportunity to connect with others who share experiences and interests. Though writing poems is about as personal as anything can be, this is personal, too. It involves more disclosure, in a way. More mutuality. 

It's also more friendly. I've seen a few forum threads offering or inviting critiques, and those threads are sparse indeed. Support is what's expected, and provided. Occasionally there are what seem to be "cut & paste" comments that are positive, but reflect no understanding of the post they are responding to. That's as bad as it gets. 

Sometimes I miss the more rough-and-tumble of the literary crowd. Quite often, in fact. 

But I am having fun.

 

 

[Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

 

 

Friday Cat Blogging

 

 

 

[Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

 

When Lives Were Saved

Billy commented on this poem at Oratory, reminding me of one lost in the archives: 

 

When you were parched
      with the needs of others
           and I washed up thirsting
                on your rocky beach, you

let me in.  When I raged
      against all fathers, all lovers,
           all men who cast away their
                women, you stayed, still and

deep as a mirror.  When
      you went down as far as
           you could dive, beyond
                love, beyond breathing,

submerged in death and bloated
      with all the drowning violence
           of your own raging father, then
                surfaced shouting at my door,

I let you in.  When I came
      to you weeping, choking on
           demands and accusations,
                hearing only my own gasping
       
fear, you let me in.  When
      you came to me, sodden,
           from another bar or another
                woman, mouth full of seaweed

and booze, I let you in.  
      If there are women who
           ask how you can hold
                to someone so breathless,

so far from shore -- if there
      are men who wonder how
           I can swim in such cold, deep
                water -- well, I say -- let them.

 

Despair

 

 

 

 

 

[Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

 

 

Delight

 

 

 

"Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight." Mary Oliver

 

 

 

[Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

 

Time

 

Art Journal Caravan w/Tangie Baxter: Itinerary #17 {My Inner Compass: Am I treating time as the currency it is?}

 

Answer: I am not. Unless procrastination counts.

 

 

[Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

 

Blog spam = comments moderated

It's been a very bad few days for Watermark. I see no option other than moderating comments, at least until this eases up. 

This spam is disgusting. I can't have it on my blog, even for a minute.

I don't click the links, of course, but just reading to be sure it's spam is enough to turn my stomach. 

I hope some law enforcement officers are following the links and putting lots of people in jail. Sexual abuse/assault survivors with PTSD should be able to sue these folks for infliction of emotional distress.