Shawn Bird

the web page & blog

sonnet 61 shoes February 17, 2012

Filed under: Poetry,projects — Shawn Bird @ 5:54 pm
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When we were in Paris last March, I found a shoe sale. I ended up buying a pair of black leather wedge shoes (for just 12 Euros!  John said, “How much?  Why don’t you buy the brown pair, too?” lol) Now, I don’t really believe in plain black anything, and those wedges seemed to me to be a black board just waiting for something to be written upon them.

So I looked for some fine tipped, permanent opaque pens.  I couldn’t find them anywhere within 100 km, so bought the Sakura pens on eBay direct from Japan, and waited for the day when inspiration would strike.

The day has arrived!

My plain black wedges are plain no longer! They sport the complete Petrarchan sonnet Canzoniere 61, in Petrarca’s original Italian. You might remember that this is the poem I translated for Grace Awakening.

Where there are inadvertent spaces (like where I needed to even up a line, and where the next word didn’t fit) I added roses. For each line of the sonnet I switched colours.  I completely free-handed these, and I was quite delighted that the entire poem fit EXACTLY between the 2 shoes!  Lucky fluke, eh?

I am quite contented with the result, and even more content that I did manage to get the project done before a year was up!

 

not quite spring February 16, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn Bird @ 10:48 am
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Spring’s promise whispered,
a twilight song warming me.
Buds broke joyfully
from bare, dead, winter branches;
Now they wear a snow blanket.

 

Warrior February 13, 2012

Filed under: Alpha-biography,Pondering — Shawn Bird @ 12:37 am

Warrior

There are a lot of warriors who fight in all sorts of wars. Sure, there are the traditional kinds of warriors: soldiers battling with guns and tanks, or arrow, swords and shields. There are also those who battle injustice using words: reporters, essayists, comedians, Amnesty International. There are those who fight disease: research scientists, doctors, nurses, labratory technologists, among them. There are those who battle ignorance, like teachers, scientists, philosophers, professors, students. There are those who battle poverty, like Rotary and other philanthropic groups. There are those individuals who battle addictions, loneliness, or mental illness.

Wars are fought on many fronts, and those who fight are warriors and worthy of respect for their efforts to conquer the evil that they have been called upon to fight.

 

My tribute February 9, 2012

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry,Pondering — Shawn Bird @ 12:30 am

I wrote a lot of poetry as a teen, to sort out my feelings about a variety of things, but usually about a boy (the particular musical boy, my obsession toward whom was the beginnings of Grace Awakening, in fact).  To celebrate his 21st birthday, I had another musical friend compose the music and adapt a poem I’d written.  On one rather emotional Saturday afternoon, after a swim in her pool, we performed for him (I had the descant part which I’ve essentially forgotten), she sang the melody and played the piano).  I find myself singing this song now and then, and it is strange to think that there are only three people on the planet who’ve ever heard this song, and I suspect of the three of us, I’m the only one who still knows any of  the words and the music, since that performance is now  far away in the murky mists of the past.

I could sing this for you, but you’d probably prefer it if I didn’t.  I assure you that it’s quite lovely though, and I’m thankful to the talented Catherine Novak Schulmann for her efforts to take my poetry and turn it into a very meaningful moment of music, lo those many years ago. 

Over the years, I’m sure I’ve mis-remembered bits and re-constructed others.  Somewhere there might be a single cassette tape recording of it, but I doubt it.  That means there’s no way to check if I’m wrong, but this is the way I remember it:

In my small way, I have tried to capture
The many facets that I know are you
And in doing so, to discover myself
And the boy with whom I grew.

Beyond the images, we conceived of each other
Honestly, fictiously, subconsciously
What me mean to each other
Beyond our concept of love (whatever it may be)
`til we accept the facets ingrained in you and me.

When I say I love you I say it with my heart
`cause this feeling is not fleeting, untried, or new
And even when I’m angry
Or when I’m crying and lonely
That doesn’t weaken my trust or my belief in you.

For you have always made me feel important enough
To care for, to share with and be there for
When times got tough
And I thank you for your friendship
I’ll thank you `til the end
It’s a joy and a blessing, that you should be my friend.

You have given me many gifts
Your music, friendship and love
And these are gifts I’ll cherish for all time.
I thank you for giving me the greatest gift I’ve ever known
And this is my tribute.

 

Young love February 2, 2012

Filed under: Alpha-biography,Pondering,Writing — Shawn Bird @ 1:44 pm
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This is the second entry in a  section called an “Alpha-biography.”  The exercise is to work through the alphabet, commenting on a word that connects somehow to your world.  My students are doing this in English 9 this semester, and I am modelling it by creating my own alpha-biography.  For myself, I will be focusing on how I am interpreting, synthesizing and contemplating the Greek/Roman gods as I’ve been exploring them in the process of crafting the Grace Awakening series.  (I’m working backwards, so that in the blog they’ll eventually appear A-Z instead of Z-A, as they end up ordered by time).

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Young Love:

Sometimes I feel like young love coloured my entire world. I am not alone. I speak to a lot of women who are very nostalgic about the first person to whom they opened their heart. Some had negative experiences, I suppose, but I seem to meet a lot of people whose first love set them on a course of self-respect and happiness. I hope that means the negative experiences are fewer than the positive ones. Perhaps it’s just that with the span of years, one begins to find the positives, even if they hadn’t been noted previously?

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I think a good young love is one that remains a fond memory throughout your life. If you take the issues and troubles, and learn from them, future relationships can be stronger.  It can become a fuel for creative endeavours, like perhaps a novel series…

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Nostalgia can be a snare though, and if you build up a young love into impossible heights, a current love that must be worked around children, mortgage and bills, can seem as if it can’t measure up. Sometimes we idealize romance from the time when we didn’t have responsibilities, and forget that maturity requires change.

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There is nothing like the intensity of a new love, young or old. Awakening passions make everyone young when they’re first in love.  I remember giggling phone calls from a senior lady, a widow, soon after she accepted a marriage proposal.  Her giddy joy was no less than the girls in the college dorm.  Love is a happy thing, whenever it occurs, but the small space in our hearts that is occupied by that first love remains through the years, forever young and precious.

 

caricature or character January 30, 2012

Filed under: Pondering — Shawn Bird @ 10:34 pm
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Every uneducated person is a caricature of himself.

Friedrich Schlegel, 1798

What a profound thought.

Without education, you’re an outline with distorted features.  Your worst is accentuated without the tempering impact of learning other perspectives, exploring other values, or discovering alternative possibilities.

Growth of personality happens when you seek wisdom and knowledge.

 

 

The narrative of the Grey Boot Quest January 29, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn Bird @ 12:45 am
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I stroll the mall, and check all routes

in search of perfect, tall, grey boots.

Store by store I search them all

On tidy shelves and crowded stalls.

I search the net in desperate state

At Fluevog.com The Boots await!

The perfect shape.  The perfect heel.

The shade of grey, that’s dove not steel.

Alas, at five hundred bucks with tax,

My happy heart’s cleaved with an ax.

I check the site from time to time

To see if cost has dropped a dime.

But one sad day, the boots were gone

My face grew sad, my mouth was drawn.

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The Grey Boot Quest began once more

Fruitless, I wandered store to store,

Til a clearance ad came to my in box

and now I can enfold my socks.

My Fluevog Logan boots, were on sale

A happy ending to the tale!

A single pair was in my size,

I quickly clicked, ready to BUY.

Soon from the store in Montreal

My boots will travel, pushed and hauled.

The first miracle was an end to the quest

The Second Miracle Logans are the best!

A week from now, or maybe two,

I’ll pose in those grey boots for you!

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Buddha & ballet January 27, 2012

I think, at least, that it was Buddha who said, “When the student is ready, the master appears.” It’s a good observation; however, the master will no doubt have been there all along, but until the student was ready, he had no focus to see him/her.  What if the master is ready, but no student appears?

As a kid, I took ballet lessons from the founder of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet,  Dr. Gweneth Lloyd. Not advanced, pointe work ballet, mind you. Twinkle-toe tots kind of of ballet. I think it was a complete waste of talent for her to have been teaching me. Perhaps others in the class went on to become amazing stars, but not me. Mind you, I can still do the 5 positions, but the discipline of mind and body required by ballet was definitely not mine. I am not of the “No pain, no gain” school. (My particular mantra is “No pain! No pain!” ) I remember her walking through the class, with her bright red lipstick on, stick in hand, prowling to poke at us “Move this, tighten that.” I was rather traumatized by the whole affair.

Then there was the recital. I was a swamp fairy. Unlike the cute flower fairies who got to wear pastels and tutus, the swamp fairies wore dyed khaki green waffle weave underwear. Yes. really. Undershirts and undershorts. Dyed pukey green. They made me go on stage in underwear.  Did I mention that I had a personal seamstress who’d kept me in adorable little outfits since birth?  All that work to learn a choreography only for public humiliation in underwear.  I cried.  I didn’t want to go on stage.  It was not a happy day.  I did dance, of course, because it was a stage, but plainly I’ve never gotten over it.

I did not go onto further ballet studies, which was probably for the best.

There was a master, but I was not meant to be her student.

Explain that one, Buddha.

 

Eulogy for life January 19, 2012

Filed under: Friendship,Poetry — Shawn Bird @ 10:32 pm
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I needed a poem for the English 9 final exam.  It needed to fit the theme, and have some poetic devices.  After scanning assorted books, I gave up and wrote my own. The title comes from a literal transliteration of eulogy- Good words.

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If I could
I would
Follow you forever, friend
Through years of fears, of tears.

I’d follow you
Through toys, boys, noise, joys
To poise.

If I could,
I’d follow, friend
But I am as a hollow end.
Be brave,
I am a memory saved
Despite the cave
of grave.

 

You? January 17, 2012

Filed under: Pondering — Shawn Bird @ 8:04 pm
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“What do English teacher authors read for fun?” you ask.

Well,thanks for your curiousity! ;-P  We are full of interesting explorations of the literary and linguistic world.

Today, I’ve been pondering the development and usage of the second person pronouns in the English language…

Yes, really.

So, if you‘re curious about ‘you’ too, you might be interested in this interesting article by University of Toronto alumnus and current St Mary’s University professor, Sara Malton PhD:

http://homes.chass.utoronto.ca/~cpercy/courses/6361Malton.htm

 

 
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