dreaming in space
Twilight splashes the last sunburst
on the shining roofs. I sit here,
braiding words, an act of grace.
It’s what this place means,
quietly translating the morass
of personal history,
a memoir going viral.
When I write, sometimes
it’s of no consequence whether
it’s about ragged lettuce,
colas & burgers, objects with shape
and vapor, as long as I take them out
from a manila envelope.
Real objects act as sidebars
to the story I am writing,
logs to make into tables
& chairs. There, the glint of trophies,
the lacy tablecloth,
the sheaf of papers,
the tumble of cushions.
They’re all inside this
crucible, as if there’s a God
of all things, as synthetic
& as real, as inane & as lofty,
as easy & as difficult,
patiently transgressing objects in space
to find the seal, a torch,
a centre of gravity.
Process notes: Margo challenges us to write about place in poetry. She talks about baseline landscapes, perhaps the primal landscape of your childhood. I feel though, my present space is my primal landscape. It most defines how I live, and the writing I do.
And here’s a great interview video about space & meaning.
The greatest thing is when someone says they come into a room and they have this incredible feeling. Whatever it is, I say the word feeling that way, because it can be so many different things. I think there’s something inspiring about connecting to someone’s subconscious.– Principal designer, Robin Standefer
Together with architect Stephen Alesch, she talked about the importance of harmonizing textures, combining interesting objects together in unexpected ways. Ultimately it’s about the way we interact with space and objects to have a dream-like moment.
