High table, low

In Current reading, Drafts, Food, Music, Poetry, Uncategorized on November 12, 2013 at 8:19 am

The work’s cut out for me on this next scene. The weaving back and forth – past to present, present to past. Looking out the window on a present view while a different landscape rises in your mind with memories from another time and place. How do the two relate? intersect?

The Alice Munro may turn into a must-buy in the original language – along with all of the others she’s written.

Grappling with the memory of a length of patterned orange silk. All of a sudden, it merges with the  memory of a nubbier, burnt-orange raw silk shirt I wore years later.

The high board in medieval banqueting terms – a dream image. The true meal being set out behind it at a lower table. I’d wandered through a large shopping complex. Came out with the thought of making my way to a spot that sold Ethiopian coffee from a specific region. Discovered I was at the right intersection already, the way distant and unrelated places connect in dreams.

Sometimes, the mind is like a warehouse. Other times, it’s like a wander through a souk – or two, or three. Istanbul, Jerusalem, Souss – why Souss, when I was thinking of another bazaar altogether, in a Tunisian town with so many school children, the teaching went on in three separate daily shifts?


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