What Kind of Times Are These...
Through happenstance, I came across Adrienne Rich’s poem, “What Kind of Times Are These” after beginning this cyanotype and sculpture series. It spoke to what I was feeling at the time. My work and I had a conversation with, and through, Rich’s poem.
“…picking mushrooms at the edge of dread…”
A pause, a breath,
the space between…
between here and there,
between you and me,
between what is said
and what is heard,
“…this is not somewhere else but here…”
I felt imprisoned,
By the pandemic,
by a stalled relationship slipping away,
by your losses and mine.
“…Because you still listen…”
What measures do each of us take
to feel safe?
Where do I belong?
Safety, care, respect, belonging.
But, the world is not equal or just.
I have more work to do.
Our paths intersect.
“…and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows…”