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    Inspiration: Poetry for a Saturday afternoon in Unionville, in the Springtime, with light flurries

    Shared by a close friend and professor on her feed this morning, I found this poem to be so perfectly in tune with the rhythm of our day in the studio. This is a weekend after a latter-half-of-April snow storm, and the completion of many stellar projects while listening to tragedies on the news. The pitter patter of hand craftsmanship at work; cutting, folding, tucking, assembling, making — the hum of the printer and tumble of the press — is lightly accompanied by the silent flurries beyond the window. As I put my pen to paper in my sketchbook, another concept is born for a dear client of ours, and the creative process continues…
    In our own little realm, it feels like an instant’s equality.

    THE LEVEL

    A great balance hangs in the sky
    and briefly on the black pan
    and on the blue pan, the melon
    of the moon and the blood orange
    of the sun are symmetrical
    like two unmatched eyes glowing
    at us with one desire.

    This is an instant’s equality,
    a level that at once
    starts to dip. In spring
    the sun starts up its golden
    engine earlier each dawn.
    In fall, night soaks
    its dye into the edges of day.

    But now they hang, two bright
    balls teasing us to balance
    the halves of our brain, need
    and will, gut and intellect,
    you and me in an instant’s grace—
    understanding no woman, even
    Gaia, can always make it work.

    ~ Marge Piercy

    And to sign off, an image of our work of course!

    Enjoy your Saturday afternoon,
    Deborah

    Tags: Yorkville Toronto


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