Taking a Good Look at Things
Blind Contour Drawing: Self-Portrait
i am the oldest of five,
now matriarch in my family line,
i am little mama, ma, and mom,
i am gma, and also
bride to my hubby for five decades and counting.
hubby, by the by, changes his clothes several times a day—
when he takes his morning walk, when he gardens,
when he goes for coffee with bryan—
while i am content
to wear the same outfit for days in a row
as if those clothes are chrysalides
within which magical alchemical
transformations take place.
hubby scatters all manner of things on his dresser top;
i routinely scoop them tidily into a simple catch-all
basket and make sure the small painting on its easel stand
is set just so, seeking order and beauty to meet
my eyes each time i enter our room.
my house? my house is a long-eared spaniel that rises
unfailingly to greet me, tail wagging enthusiastically
and chin lifted at a tilt for a scritch behind its right ear.
as for my country, ouch. it seems to run headlong,
a tantruming out-of-control irrational toddler
oblivious to anything but
what it wants right this minute, now, gimme!
on fall days i am both energetic and wistful,
giddy with bright color and also quietly tucking in a bit,
on spring days i pull off outer cold-weather layers,
fling my arms wide open, and stretch stretch stretch.
as the the road shortens ahead of me;
i seek wonder right at my feet,
occasionally glancing ahead but then having to check
to be sure i’m wearing my glasses when i can’t
make out the details or i feel uncertain of my footing.
i am the oldest of five,
now matriarch in my family line,
i am little mama, ma, and mom,
i am gma, and also
bride to my hubby for five decades and counting.
but hang on a sec.
lift the pencil from the paper.
let’s start this drawing again.
i am seven years old, clambering barefoot out to crab rock
along the shoreline at old kelsey point
i am cottage
i am granite
i am sand
i am saltwater
i am sky
i am sunlight.
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3 x 3″; watercolor on paper
card #10 in a series of color swatches
2025
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Notes about poem and art:
• “Blind Contour” is a gift from what I learned in the course I took over the summer offered by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer—The Big Reframe: Poetry as a Tool for Re-Seeing the World. With this poem in particular I especially put into practice (a) letting go of resistance to following a prompt and (b) not knowing the end of my poem before I started.
• Butterfly is a gift from what I’ve learned in recent weeks from playing with watercolor paint and using volunteer flowers from Dave’s garden as my color references, in this case three clippings from a butterfly bush, left to right: gone by, still in bud, and in bloom.
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15 responses to “Taking a Good Look at Things”
Oh my….so much here to love. That poem! Wow! I will have to read it several time throughout the day today as it speaks to me in so many ways. It gives me a glimpse into you…your roles….your world…your home…and your heart.
Describing your home as a long – eared spaniel rising to greet you gave me the chills. That perfectly describes how my home feels to me. Thank you for that.
And just for the record…I AM your hubby in my home. I change my clothes a several times a day and scatter all manner of things all over the house.
Being both energetic and wistful…. giddy with bright color and also tucking in a bit describes how I feel about fall perfectly! It’s both and.
I could go on and on….and I WILL be going back to your poem throughout the day.
Finally….displaying the three phases of the butterfly bush on your lovely swatch painting was brilliant. The ebb and flow…the circle of life.
Well done Dotty!
MaryAnn, in turnabout I will be reading your comments several times. I’m so appreciative of your feedback and appreciative that through your responses to my writing I get new glimpses into you beyond the many glimpses I already get through your blog of our roles, your world, your home, and your heart.
LOL that you are the clothes-changer and scatterer in your marriage! And what fun that the long-eared spaniel image resonated with you! And that we share feelings about autumn.
I’ve thought of you often as I’ve painted my color swatches series because our gardens, of course, are always in flux with all phases, each in their own way, holding beauty.
Again, thank you, thank you!
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Turnabout is fair play. We do have common ground and look for little windows into each other’s joy.
After I wrote my comment I had vivid memories of our 100 pound chocolate lab Homer every time we would come home. He would wag his tail…and his whole but so vigorously that he would almost lose his balance. He loved us coming home as much as I love coming home. Every time.
omg omg! A poetry trust-fall! And look where you landed! Gah! I am gobsmacked. And the watercolor swatches get richer and juicier!!! You are a wonder!!!! Xoxo
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This is a treasure, Dotty. Your world came alive to me. I watched you tidy up, and turn the painting ever so slightly. Exactly as I would have done. Exactly as my mother would do. I pictured my seven year old self, playing by the creek with my cousins. Bossing them when the older cousins were off somewhere else.
Such a beautiful poem. The wonder of reading, yes. That it can connect you, and take you on wonderous journeys.
I love your art today, and that you included all phases of the plant. I was recently reminded, and here again, of the saying comparing women and flowers… from the Calendar Girls movie.
each stage of their life has its own beauty, but the last phase is the most glorious, then they quickly go to seed.
You have proven once again, that you are a treasure. xoxo
Sheila, thank you for the enlivening feedback that my world came alive to you through my words—I never cease to be delighted by the way that when a writer offers up very specific particularities from their own life experience, the particularity fosters universality. I so enjoyed hearing the particularities that bubbled to the surface you in response to mine : )
Thanks also for your appreciation of the multiple phases of the plant in my art here.
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I will have to repeat what others have said about the poem! A glance into your world. your home, your little chores. Thank you! Especially related to your outfits that you are happy to wear ” for days in a row”.
Your faithful spaniel reminded me of Lily, blind and hard of hearing, wagging her tail!
The beginning in the present ending with images of the past, beautiful!
Your lovely color swatches remind me that I have lots to do with my own. Love how the shadows make new color combinations. I will be looking forward for your fall color combinations!
Carol, gotta love being happy to wear outfits for days in a row! Thanks for sharing your affinity to that detail and for your feedback about beginning my poem in the present and ending with images of the past.
My color-swatch series has had me to dialed in to the minute incremental changes taking place in our gardens day by day. Painting the colors of the ever-changing flora has offered up such a nourishing meditation again and again.
Thank you for your comments!
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Joje, ta da! Here you are at my blog, to my great happiness! I KNEW you’d perk up at the mention of crab rock. Isn’t it wild how easy it is to BE there again through memory? to BE there in our childhood bodies? Thank you for letting me know my words are able to move you.
[meditating and rebooting my computer resolved the technical difficulties I was having earlier. hoo-ray. I am grateful.]
Oh, so many beautiful images here, Dotty. I lovelove this poem. Your poetry and prose keeps company with some pretty esteemed writers. Mary Oliver comes to mind (I am being honest), of course our beloved RWT. I have read this several times now and among others, here are a few of my fave lines:
*as if those clothes are chrysalides within which magical alchemical transformations take place…
*my house is a long-eared spaniel that rises unfailingly to greet me….
*i seek wonder right at my feet…
I wonder – will you/are you collecting your writings for a future book? Certainly worthy. ♥️
Roseanne, such a wonderful gift to have this feedback, replete with specific lines that resonated for you. Thank you so much for your reflections. I’m especially tickled that the chrysalides bit and the wonder right at my feet caught your attention; both are meaningful to me.
As to your question, it has two parts—(a) by sharing my poetry at my blog, I am building my collection in a focused place; (b) I don’t have concrete plans for a future book but, until a few months ago, I didn’t have plans to be writing poetry day after day, so who’s to know?!
Please hold in mind your instrumental piece in all of this: you introduced me to RWT in a way that lit a spark in me for which I am tremendously grateful, and RWT’s poetry kept fanning that spark. I think I told you I’ve signed up for another playshop with her in late October : )
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