‘yet know i how the heather looks…’ (e. d.)

‘yet know i how the heather looks…’ (e. d.)

tomorrow is emily dickinson’s birthday (december 10th), the title of this post is one of the lines of her poem, which was on top of my old blog for a long time.. ten years? i composed little something about a ghost pipe this summer and wanted to share it tomorrow. the words lined up by themselves in my head and i was about to fall asleep. it was nice. but if i won’t find a proper way to show it, this little heather celebration will be here. i did not know that date until quite recently. just happened to see it in november. i was supposed to be born on the 11th, but it happened of the 1st of december. we are so close. one and zero is one. and after this movie i suddenly felt such a strong connection to emily. deeper than the words, profound and clean. like when you feel the exact feeling, with no doubts and questions, even to yourself. oh! happy happy heather birthday!

and here is one of the forest watercolors for such an occasion, it’s called ‘low spruce – high heather’. this botanical composition is like a poem, don’t you think?

forest was rich in heather this year and my mom gathered a little bit more than usual, so we made these sets.

‘…the medicinal properties of an infusion of heather tops were used to treat coughs, consumption and to soothe the nerves, and heather tea and ointments were used to treat arthritis and rheumatism. ‘moorland tea’ made from heather flowers, was reputed to be a favourite of robert burns. the soporific aroma from the dried flowers was also put to use to make heather mattresses, by packing long lengths of dried, flowering heather together in the bed frame, flowers uppermost and leaning slightly towards the bed head…’ (paul kendall)

в этом году мама собрала чуть больше вереска, чем обычно и поэтому сложились такие наборы: вереск в чай, мешочек из старинного хлопка с розовыми полянами (мама их сшила тоже на озере!) и две открытки с веточкой вереска. его можно заваривать отдельно, а можно смешивать с другими травами или зеленым чаем и хранить в том мешочке. в эту осень к моей большой радости и удивлению люди выбирали дома на камнях, больше, чем обычно и с домами вместе часто упаковывала вереск. берег онежского озера, где собирали камни, совсем близко к лесу, который подарил нам вереск!

и вот ещё страницы из этой хорошей карманной книги валентины астаховой ‘клады на болотах’ 1976 года.

 

forest raspberries

accurately like real ones, ripe and juicy, and completely different from each other. it’s not even fair to call them ‘beads’. rare japanese ones, look very similar to the opaque czechoslovakian berry beads from the 1930-40’s, the latter of which were more braided than berry-ed. just look at them!

the first raspberry necklace will be here.

малиновая миниатюра. мы только зашли в лес и на краю дороги стоял молодой куст малины в одну ветку, всего с одной ягодой и уже с двумя оттенками зелёного, пепельно-изумрудного в листьях постарше и молодого травяного зелёного – в молодых. думала, что на закладках будет красиво смотреться. давно не было закладок.

 

a quiet passion, 2016

– emily. why are you up so late?
– may i speak with you, father?
– of course.
– as you may know, i like to write. letters, mostly… but sometimes poetry.
– yes.
– may i have your permission to write during the night, for quiet’s sake? i shall not disrupt the rest of the household, i promise.
– yes, you may. it was very considerate of you to ask.
– it is your house, father.
– but it is our home, emily.

i’m boggled at how much it echoes with me and because of that i haven’t watched it fully yet. it’s way beyond poetry, even though the poetry covers all the emotions and all kinds of states. and i can not fail to mention the secret forest plant i discovered just few years ago, pale forest creature, neither a flower nor the mushroom, the ghost pipe. it’s very dear to me.

during the walks i usually do have weird rhymes in my head all the time, but since recently there’s plenty more, and now, sometimes, i dare to save them on paper.. am i saying this correctly? with the words of my second non-native language? returning to the nature and plants, here is a little observation.. i found a leaf of coltsfoot and to my surprise the other side, white one – stepmother’s side was as tender and silky by touch as the green, mother’s.

there is a hope…

fascinated by cynthia nixon’s emotional performance. enormously loud quietness. thank you.

*

after watching few scenes and a long absence in the white room, these earrings were created, accompanied by a tiny poem about them. yes, they were intended to her! and you. for those, whose lives go vividly, restless, deep inside.