Yarn Along

I'm still impressed each time I make a cable stitch and see those lovely twists forming as the work grows. Cables were one of the allures of learning to knit. I loved the look of them. They seemed complex and intimidating. I thought that once I mastered the cable I would be able to knit practically anything. While unfortunately that was not the case, cables are one of my favourite things to knit. I'm currently knitting another cabled hot water bottle cozy.

The beauty and skill of poetry have always fascinated me. The more I read and learn, the more I am drawn to the charms of poetry. I was pleased to visit the Queensland Poetry Festival on the weekend and hear Robert Adamson read. While there, I brought a copy of home{sic} by Brisbane poet Julie Beveridge. I have been dipping in to it's pages when the children offer me moments of quiet. I have uncovered many little jewels already, such as these lines from the poem the last friday night flown solo - 

cab driver

right turns you into me

left turns you

out again  

I think Jacqueline Turner summed it better than I could hope to when she observed that, "Julie Beveridge writes domestic scenarios like no other. She combines love with stark observation to create nuanced images that are real, not staged. There is no fakery here, just beautifully strange words that arrive at the heart, making it ache and sing in equal measure." 

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Joining in with Ginny's Yarn Along.

Ravelry.

Weekending

Rain changes the feel of the City. Those hurrying seem more hurried. The concrete and glass colours of City life seem muted further still. The scents of the City are heightened by damp. The sounds of hustle and bustle are accompanied by drips, by gutters running with water, by feet tapping and splashing along the pavement. I too walk a little faster, as Emerson wiggles in the sling, protesting the rain drops that reach her small head.

Down an ally, a hidden bar is full of poets and admirers. Rich pickings for people watching. Velvet coats, leather pants, Fedora's at jaunty angles, screen printed T-shirts carefully chosen to offer insight into the wearers passions, bright coats, expanses of tattooed skin. Sheish Money croons; deep, gravelly and emotion filled. Twin sister's sit with friends, peppermint tea and cider. Emerson gives in to sleep. Then poets take the stage to read their writings and I'm reminded again that poetry is so much more than words on a page.