I’m from the City of Angels when it was orange groves
and movie lots.
No cloverleaf, no gridlock, no shopping malls
Just backyards full of colorful pinwheels spinning
in the breeze.
I’m from lazy weekend carousel rides, Slip’N Slides,
and ponies that took the long way home.
I’m from egg salad sandwiches on white bread
at the Five and Dime,
and double features with my mother and sister
on Saturday afternoons.
the Lone Ranger, Fury (the story of a horse…)
kick the can.
I loved books
and libraries, quiet and cozy,
packed with stories, spilling over with adventure
I loved the future and couldn’t wait for it to arrive.
I’m from bottles of vodka hidden in the back
of a girdle drawer.
I’m from that white house on the corner.
The one with the black shutters;
The one that caught fire, after
my mother passed out in bed
holding a burning cigarette.
I’m from longing and loss.
I’m from a bright light that never had the chance to shine,
and a brilliant light shadowed by resentment, regret,
I’m from a lucky Valentine’s Day orgasm, conceived in the
heat of passion under the illusion of love ever-lasting.
I’m from take care of me and
“make good thy standing place.”
(translation: take care of yourself, I’m busy.)
I’m from June and Jerry.
The beautiful sensitive artist and the handsome
hard-charging smart-as-a-whip physician.
I’m from break-ups and break-downs,
yelling and door slamming,
Hurt feelings and no apologies,
Heartbreak and neglect—
And stony silences that reverberate through
decades of fierce pride.
I’m from care-free summers along the East Haven shore:
My cousin David in hot pursuit,
me shrieking in mock protest,
rocks tearing tender feet—
My sun-bleached hair a wild mass of blown wind.
I’m from my Aunt Grace’s love…
almost enough to make up for the rest.
I’m from cheerleading and scrapbooking,
and journal keeping.
(Barry called tonight. I think I’m in love… sigh.)
I’m from collecting wisdom quotes, reading philosophy,
and wondering about a lot of things
other people never talk about.
I don’t know it yet, but my truest love will be
Truth and Beauty.
Mr. Hesse’s magical Magister Ludi and
Castaneda’s mystical Don Juan show me my future.
I’m from not knowing what to do with that just yet.
I’m from years spent dropping out and dropping in.
Years wondering and wandering,
feeling lost and struggling to find my way.
Youthful years trying and failing, learning and growing,
grieving and healing.
Honing in and whittling down.
Until one day…
Only my essence remains.
Shining and Clear.
I’m from hard lessons finally learned:
Pain is the teacher,
Joy the revealer,
or is it the other way round?
I’m from giving up trying to be something I’m not
so I can make the most of who I am:
Counselor, Creator, Dancer, Dreamer.
I’m from fertile limits and diving deep to discover,
closing doors so others can open.
I’m from a lifetime spent gazing up
at Van Gogh’s crazy stars.
Exploding with color.
“My Journey” was inspired by the poem, “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyons.
Want to try this easy and fun technique yourself? Make your own “Where-I’m-from-lists” and then edit them into a poem. Rich and evocative, the list-making process can easily inspire a painting, story, or piece of music.
Intrigued, but unsure how to begin? Let me help you engage your inner poet.
All artwork by Cathy Wild. Please note that the art of collage borrows images from a wide range of recycled, commercial books, calendars, magazines, and collected images for the purpose of personal expression.
Want to know more about using the art of collage for healing and recovery from trauma? Contact me for a 20-minute complimentary phone consultation.