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Knitting the time
With colored yarns
Creating a pattern
Of useful thoughts

The rhythm of clackety needles
The peace it gives me
To just repeat
And repeat
And repeat
Till time is so
Painted and decorated
That we make sense of it
With tired eyes…
Looking back
At the net we weaved (or knitted)
To pass the time
And find ourselves in the now
We used to know

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Atardecer

Image by ogme via Flickr

 

 

Prove me wrong, please

I’m tired of being right

Or thinking I’m right.

 

Prove all my thoughts,

Beliefs, theories,

Prove them wrong

Let me have hope

And believe something new.

 

All my behaviors – so cemented in me

Will fall apart

Will have no base

On this old shield

That is around me – supposed to protect

But all it did was destroy me

 

Prove me wrong

So I can start tasting life


Oh, no! I’m afraid some people will start throwing stones at me… Don’t get me wrong, the purses are pretty – but way over priced.

Let me explain what I don’t like about Vera Bradley, American Girl dolls, etc: they make children want to be what they are not! The whole branding fascination does that and the children that cannot afford them, feel worthless. And make parents try to live beyond their means… They are elitist and exclusive!

There is a tendency in the American society to compensate every need with material things – let’s go shopping for when things go bad… And it is hitting kids at younger ages every year. And the trends, that are so instant and replaceable in the era of flash love, hit schools like a hurricane. There is the case of wall paper, carpet, and chandeliers for lockers – FOR LOCKERS!!!!! What is the real use of it but create more garbage????? And all the girls feel they must have them to decorate their school lockers… and the girls that don’t do it are out (popularity, anyone?). And the “need” to have a Vera Bradley purse or backpack – to go to school, really? And the brand jeans, shirts, shoes. I have to confess that I ended up buying Tom’s shoes for my kids – they are overpriced, but I think I felt compelled by the Company’s campaign to shoe kids in developing countries for every pair of Tom’s you buy. The capitalist charitable way…

I can see my girls fascinated by all this – wanting and wanting – and feeling less valued and important because they don’t have them (am I being a bad mother?) But I am trying to teach them that these “things”, because they are just things, are not what define them, or make them happy. It’s just an outside validation that will go away, replaced by the next… and it will be impossible to keep up with it to “feel” happy.

We did have our brands and trends when I was growing up, but I did not feel less valued because I didn’t have them – if I liked something and it resonated with my style (because style and liking to dress are part of growing up) I’d try to find a good deal – and so did most of my friends. The ones who didn’t, were not show offs, just a bit lazy… but no one was an outcast because of what they wore or had…

But this is a different culture and society and I am a bit lost (and old… very different generation…) – and honestly reaching out to all mothers – am I messing up with my kids’ life by not fulfilling what I consider an empty desire? By not surrendering to the “popular” concept that I don’t understand? Do we, as parents, need to subscribe to these material wants so our kids feel accepted? How, when I start seeing kids so young going to school with their iPhones and iPads, and their expensive shoes, and purses, and jewelry, just so they are above (or better, the same) others?

Being a teenager is already such a delicate and sensitive phase  – and with this material interference, it makes it harder and harder. We preach against peer pressure, but subscribing to this whole issue is accepting the pressure… why do we conform to the wrong causes and issues?…

Would love to know what you think – I’m at loss…


If I were music

I’d be all over the score

Incoherent – no cadence

No rythm nor harmony –

A noise – mismatched sounds

Like the Orchestra tuning the instruments

Just before the concert –

The intention of calm melody

Being declared…

If I were a painting

Cubist I would be

With precise geometric forms

In an altered manner –

Landing ground for the chaotic stance

That reigns over the internal order

The colors of dried flowers

Proclaiming the inevitable – end

So we can complete the cycle – so round and circular

Thus reaching the beginning

If I were a tapestry

I would have seedy thread

A sign of fatigue that comes with time

Feet that walk the long walk of life

And found rest in me.

My stitches would be spun

By old women hands –

Quiet – arthritic – contorted bones

conquered by the mighty needles

With every stitch a story

Forming an image

Searching the memory

What an irony

The elder can only sew

The remembrance of the wound

I am not painting, music, nor art

I’m not whole – nor part

But I spread myself – in disasters

I don’t try to hide what ignites me


Open the faucet

Letting all words and ideas in a torrential spill

Flooding the soul

That was rusty and stiff – empty without inspiration

So hard to control the flow

The stream is powerful

Runs freely – no caution

It’s better to follow the natural

The little sprinkling of the water

Refreshes me

But the rocks

Make the walk harder

Bruising my steps

The fall is consequence –

The climax of the navigation

I’m so out of control – no rudder, nor compass

I continue adrift – submitted to the torrential waters

I shall get to the Valley

That is expanding in my mind