The Touch of Heirloom

Going through Barbara Kingsolver’s “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle” has presented a large group of adhesive ideas, and one of them is this: the Heirloom. Heirloom tomatoes, turkeys, chickens, and other farm-grown delicacies are known for their superior quality and assistance with promoting local eating from hard-working farmers. The author discusses the care in which she hunts for these Heirloom seed packets, the relationships formed with others who collect them, and the mind-blowing taste experienced once these beauties reach the plate. In addition to this book, I’ve been sneaking in episodes of “D.C. Cupcakes” during lunch hour. Two sisters embark on a mission to deliver the finest cupcakes on earth, even if that means staying up all night in their cupcake laboratory (Is anyone else slightly envious now?), redoing perfect cupcakes to fit a customer’s request for a different shade of orange, or allowing video cameras to see their mess and stress. What, you possibly ask, is the theme in these two pieces of entertainment? Each story projects excellence and passion. How can excellence and passion be harvested while we read and write?
In Merriam-Webster we find heirloom as: “(1) a piece of property that descends to the heir as an inseparable part of an inheritance of real property; (2) something of special value handed on from one generation to another; and (3) a horticultural variety that has survived for several generations usually due to the efforts of private individuals.” This correlation is obvious with the afore-mentioned novel by Kingsolver, but with “D.C. Cupcakes” the Greek heritage of the sisters doesn’t become known until a few episodes into Season One. For one particular event, an annual Greek festival in the city, their mother brings a picture of their grandmother to the shop as the girls bake one of her famous recipes. Not only is baking in the show, it’s in their blood.
How do you get reading and writing in your blood? How does it steep so deeply, as to provide your mind with enough oxygen to take up other pressing hobbies and activities? Some things I’d like to accomplish before the close of spring 2013 are as follows: learn to crochet or at least sew well enough to have something to wear; begin an indoor crop of some kind—herbs or flowers; learn to swim better; draw some more anime, etc…Floating above all of these complex brain functions (yes, perfecting Sailor Jupiter’s ponytail curl is a monster task!) are the sparks concerned only with comprehending and composing language. I have plenty of authors to ask that left behind a trail of insanity, financial success, bankruptcy, family agendas, cultural exchange, theological awareness, political unrest, love of neighbor, and appreciation for God. Is it possible to create art with the history I’ve been given, and have it strike hearts? Even confessional poetry? Well, there’s no other way to find out:

“Almost Done”

I feel that it’s October’s Saturday morning
because sunlight mellows every glass-door oak and squirrel
before ten o’clock, rambunctious specks
carried by heavier smoked winds
that climb and coax out his calming, golden rays
settling on our thick iron railing.

Pajamas bear slight protection from stark,
irritating but unforgettable cartoons shouting
yet not blocking out his sweet, childhood beckon
to watch birds fly purposefully
throughout silver low-key heat
and dance around to feel extinguishable life.

A hustle to clothe more specifically
is no match for the hardy, crystalline appearance
of crimson-bronze that guards its soft creatures
from his less piercing gaze,
waylaid by shorter days and crisper nights
carefully providing more intense play.

We dive into piles of burgundy jewelry
imitating phoenixes and soldiers
well into the late afternoon
as our parents cry out to nature’s bounty
in scrutinized news journals and political laughter
echoing restful momentum.

The jeans are now replete with stains
that sisters and playmates have earned
as a way to address autumn’s jaded bounty,
leaves between sun and frost
unfazed by dirty transition unlike us
pouting that the day is almost done.

Almost done, our jeans are taken off for washing.

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About violetprose

Writing pulls me out of myself and into a world of color. It soothes, encourages, and inspires, among other treasures. I use it to love, work, and play. I pray it breathes life and shares hope.
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