Last week, I wrote about my current pages for the Sisterhood of the Traveling Sketchbooks and then on Saturday, I had two more journals arrive! Luckily, I knew they were coming so I had time to get an idea of what I'm doing in them.
First I had to finish Jaime's journal- so here it is:
this is the main spread with the words to a Day of the Dead poem written in
and then the signature page.....with part of the poem again. I've copied the poem in it's entirety at the bottom of this post for anyone who would care to read the whole thing!
This is definitely one of those pieces that looks better in real life, but hopefully ya'll can get the gist here ;) I used lots of shimmery metallics which I just can't seem to capture with my camera!
And then on to November:
I've been wanting to start participating in Haiku my Heart so I centered this page around a haiku I wrote. Last Fall, I was teaching my students how to draw leaves and I noticed how much they look like stars- at least they do to me!
again with the metallics not photographing well- it's also really overcast today which helps nothing!
finished with one of my little joie de vivre figures.....
So I want to finish this one and the December book by Friday to get them all in the mail- the sketchbooks are more than halfway through with their travels, and I can't wait to see the end!
Here's the poem I used in Jaime's journal:
Message
in Colors
Lit
candles. Faces. Memories
and an entrance that's a rainbow: protection for the place
of rest and meditation.
Necklaces. Cempasuchitl, pre-Hispanic links, songs,
paper medals, flames talking to the wind
the diverse language departed.
It is the prime time of the celebration
or death's thread, threaded
through time's needle.
It is the decomposition of matter, transformed into art.
It is the final curtain awaken from death in Ocotepec.
Yes. An eternal dream of uncorrupt flowers and of
gibberish.
It is death's lament, fading away
and it is also the respect made a tribute.
Who could have imagined so much beauty on a tomb?
Mole. Glass of water. Copal. Salt. Prayers.
Firecrackers. Fruits. Bread. Music.
Corridos. Bolas. Romantic songs.
History, praised. Creativity, expressed
in its most raw form...
And it is the color purple, elegies in white, blue, pink.
It is a blow from grace so heightened as artificial fire
that reveals the soul's presence in the darkness.
Something like the flowering of martyrdon in flames.
An arrangement for the end or the posthumous splendor.
In Morelos everything is possible
gloom battles with life and its victor,
it is once again for a little which, happiness, live tradition
which overcomes reality.
It was before these ornate gravesites, when I knew
that in Ocotepec, as in my heart,
those that have departed return every year to remind us of
their love.
And that only LOVE can save us.
Julie
Sopetran
(Spanish poet, 2000)
I just LOVE the words she used!
Happy creating friends!
Stephanie
