Tag: smile

poem: a smile

i wish i could smile
in that particular way
that always ends
with my shamefully
thunderous laugh.

A delightful fire
curled my lips like smoke –
burning away the damp,
desperate
corners
of my awareness.

Even if this respite
only lasted
for that one
explosive
heartbeat,
oh,
it could still save
the broken shards
of my life,
filling
their jagged edges
with light.

Laughter,
smiling…
all day i have lamented
the problems with my eye,
and begged
for that vision
to be restored –
but
as i lay down,
weary and worn,
i find myself wistful,
longing
for a smile
that would slowly
take over this dour mood
until nothing was left
but the joy.

16 July 2016

makes me want to smile

This morning, my driveway tried to kill me. The ice is melting, but remains ridiculously slick and the film of water on top of it made my dog skid off his feet.  As a result, I closed my studio and showroom for the day while the melting continues.

This is a blessing.

Yesterday I worked myself a bit too hard; my body will enjoy having lighter duties today. This also gives me a chance to get the house in order (do laundry, organize chaos, stare at the dirty dishes intently enough to develop telekinesis), put items up for sale on ebay and Houzz, and blog.

As soon as the washer started chugging away, I realized I wanted to blog first and foremost.  Of course, this has nothing to do with avoiding the mess that has taken over the living-room.  Instead, it has everything to do with my gratitude for a singular moment while teaching.

Last night, I experienced one of those small exchanges that will live on in my heart forever – filed under “memories for when you need to cheer up.”

A student stayed until late. She is a delightful teenager, able to work wonders with the clay when she harnesses her mind (something which I understand from my own experience; mind harnessing is not always an effortless process.) We were sculpting and talking when she mentioned that some people she cares about deeply keep trying to get her to smile. As much as she wants to please them, she can’t do it.  She doesn’t like to smile, even when she’s happy.  She couldn’t give me a clear reason why she doesn’t want to grin, although she did give it some serious thought after I asked.  “Well, don’t worry about it here,” I told her as I added a fin to my mermaid’s tale, “I don’t mind, you can have whatever expression you want.  Pout, be relaxed, scowl, it won’t bother me.  Just let me know when you need help or something needs to change.”

mermaidShe looked up at me with large, serious eyes and a delightfully earnest expression, “Now, that makes me want to smile.”

At that, I smiled enough for both of us. It is enough for her to tell me that she enjoys her time in the studio and the lessons I have given – I don’t need effervescent emoting. Lord knows, I effervescently emote enough for a small country and she puts up with it.

mermaid2The night continued on quite nicely.  She started on a cat-woman sculpture and I worked on the mermaid. I ended the day exhausted but content.

Even when I settled in for sleep, I kept grinning at the thought that something so little on my part had made her happy.  It is such a small thing, really, to release my expectations about how someone should react to something – and the payoff for flexibility is huge. She found such comfort in not being told what configuration her face had to take.