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Passages where they apparently are not_Passaggi dove apparentemente non ve ne sono

Roots in the wind

Roots in the wind

 The snow has not yet enterely melted when, disguised by the blue sky, immaterial gates open out for a few hours only. Spring is beating into the veins of a Nature still numb and shows openings going through the cycles of space and time.

La neve non si è ancora sciolta del tutto quando, camuffate dall’azzurro del cielo, porte immateriche si dischiudono per poche ore appena. La primavera pulsa nelle vene di una Natura ancora intorpidita e mostra varchi che attraversano i cicli dello spazio e del tempo.

Entering into a path in the woods

Entering into a path in the woods

 They appear in simplicity of bare shapes and gray-haired colours, along lines that bring elsewhere…

Appaiono nella semplicità di forme nude e colori canuti, lungo linee che conducono altrove…

Omphalos-Navel

Omphalos-Navel

… in hours like these, if Mother nods, even the eyes get their bearings on new poles, and recognize the passage.

… in ore come queste, se la Madre annuisce, anche lo sguardo si orienta su nuovi poli, e riconosce il passaggio.

Wild Madder

Wild Madder

I didn’t expect to find her, just a path beyond many always walked. I came out for the  ivy, she lays next her. I’ve nothing but my hands, and it tastes as love the thought they may be enough.

Non mi aspettavo di trovare lei, giusto un sentiero più in là dei molti sempre battuti. Ero uscita per l’edera, lei le si distende accanto. Non ho altro che le mie mani, e sa di amore il pensiero che possano bastare.

Red root Nice treasure

Red root Nice treasure

In the shadow of a sun filtered by bare trees, the heat rising from under my hands is all in the earth. Young roots burrow into the damp of steeped leaves and soil , but I suppose they understood I’ll be back for them, one day… I wonder if this disclosing things changes something… I’ve no answers but wise fancies as a child.

All’ombra di un sole filtrato dagli alberi spogli,  il calore che sale da sotto le mani è tutto nella terra. Giovani radici si rintanano nell’umido di foglie macere e terriccio, ma credo abbiano capito che tornerò per loro, un giorno… mi chiedo se questo aver scoperto le carte modifica qualcosa… non ho risposte se non sagge fantasie di bambina.

Letting the wild penetrate my skin

Letting the wild penetrate my skin

Move my hands into the earth to recognize, much more than to take away… when I raise my knees and look at myself, it’s clear… something in me opens passages where they apparently are not… skin burns but I feel happy.

Muovo le mani dentro la terra per riconoscere, molto più che per portar via… quando sollevo le ginocchia e mi guardo, è evidente… qualcosa in me apre passaggi dove apparentemente non ve ne sono… la pelle brucia eppure mi sento felice.

Clay Hands

Clay Hands

Just me, who struggles in an innate thrust and its chimera, unrealizable barren and illusory perfection, solve countless small nodes when I consume my hands, old beyond their years.

Proprio io che mi dibatto dentro una spinta innata e la sua chimera, irraggiungibile sterile e illusoria perfezione, sciolgo infiniti piccoli nodi quando consumo le mie mani, vecchie oltre i loro anni.

Can you see those steps?

Can you see those steps?

Time to go back home, by now. The tinkling of their footsteps on the rough pavement shows the way home.

E’ tempo di rientrare, ormai. Il tintinnio dei loro passi sull’asfalto rugoso indica la strada di casa. 

7 Comments

  1. while it is a delight to find such treasures as ‘Rubia peregrina’ in the wild…i would think twice about pulling the plant out to use the roots in a dyebath. remember it takes three years for the plant to reach maturity…and a wild population can very quickly be depleted – even if each harvester only takes 10% – each time someone gathers, the core diminishes.

    the plant was pointed out to us while participating in the botanical coastal walk at ISEND 2011 and i was shocked and saddened to see how many thoughtless persons simply ripped them from the ground. some stuffed them in their pockets or folded them in their journals, some simply used them for a photo opportunity and then cast them aside.

    i don’t intend this comment to be a criticism of you Sheila and i do hope it isn’t taken that way – but in the modern whirled/world i think we have to be very careful about gathering in the wild. there are far more people on the planet than there used to be….and far less bits of wild. i know i keep preaching windfalls but it’s for good reason.

    on the other hand, taking a small piece and propagating more plants from it could be good – if it survives in the wild near you then it may do even better when nourished and cared for in your garden [and you’ll have it close at hand when you need it!]

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    • Well, my dear India, it’s exactly what I did! Surprised and delighted to find her on my path, I wanted to observe with my eyes how the roots of rubia peregrina move in the earth without pulling them out, except one not too young in order to be propagated in a proper space I share with a friend, wild and cared enough to let me be serene about the real possibilities to see it grow and multiply. You simply know I share your vision. Love your concern about heart-earth life. You know, I’m not interested in becoming a renowned textile artist… being in relationship with vegetal sources of colour, the alchemical process of interaction with textiles through Nature, it’s a peerless (to me) way of disclosing multidimensional energies, mirrors of Life in multiple spaces and times… Hope that also through this modest space of me we can make people aware of the Organism on which they are to live!

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      • We’re singing from the same song sheet in different parts of the whirled – look forward to hearing how the madder grows
        I have r.tinctoria here, struggling in a pot to keep it safe from being lost in undergrowth but we have a very harsh climate so it’s unlikely I will ever have fields of it…

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  2. Come sempre, Sheila, le tue scoperte mi incantano! E mi piace leggere la poesia anche in italiano. Grazie per aiutarmi con l’italiano mentre imparo della terra tua! Grazie! passagiate

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  3. Gabriella

    E’ una pianta che non ho mai incontrato, probabilmente l’altitudine non le permette di mostrarsi quassù sopra i 1000 metri, assomiglia molto all’asperula odorosa che purtroppo diventa sempre più rara in zona, infatti è sua parente stretta.Fa piacere uno scambio botanico e poi condivido pianamente il sentire di India che è anche il tuo ed il mio, apparteniamo a madre terra e le sue meraviglie riempiono la nostra vita e sono le nostra maestre.

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    • Davvero, mentre aprivo la terra per seguire il percorso delle radici e osservarne il comportamento, continuavo a pensare a quante di quelle creature sarebbe stato necessario strappare al loro grembo per tingere giusto un metro di stoffa… non fa proprio per me mi sono detta… confido nell’esperienza che cresce col tempo e nella volontà di interagire con la Natura (a cui parte di me appartiene) senza distruggere, per imparare a discriminare sempre più acutamente la possibilità di conoscere intimamente dall’azione nociva…

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Drop a seed_Lascia cadere un seme

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