"You're" by Sylvia Plath

You're

Clownlike, happiest on your hands,
Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled,
Gilled like a fish. A common-sense
Thumbs-down on the dodo's mode.
Wrapped up in yourself like a spool,
Trawling your dark as owls do.
Mute as a turnip from the Fourth
Of July to All Fool's Day.
O high-riser, my little loaf.

Vague as fog and looked for like mail.
Farther off than Australia.
Bent-backed atlas, our traveled prawn.
Snug as a bug and at home
Like a sprat in a pickle jug.
A creel of eels, all ripples.
Junpy as a Mexican bean.
Right, like a well-done sum.
A clean slate, with your own face on.

I love the poetry of Sylvia Plath - and this is one of my favourites. I found an old pic. of my daughter in this crazy jumper she used to love and I couldn't resist sketching it. It reminded me of this poem...each child born unto themselves from the start.

Time or lack thereof...

Like all working mothers I struggle to find time...time to fill all the necessary demands of each day, time to finish things, get the washing done. Time for more important things like quality time with the children. But most of all I struggle with finding time for myself - time to put on make up or commit to a drawing. Nonetheless, I want to find some time just for me. I know it will make me, and consequently, everyone else, less strung out if I succeed! So I'm starting small...with 2 achievable goals in mind. Rise a little earlier for a more relaxed morning, so I may attend to myself before the kids awake. Secondly, to fit drawing, even writing, in where I can. To keep carrying my sketchbook with me so I may use 10 minutes here and there. I may not produce any great work. But I will get practice and a sense of acheivement from that alone! Just like this little vintage clock here...one of my favourite possessions gave me a sense of happiness today regardless of its flawed proportions!