reflections.

the poet is always a mirror.

— reflections.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Image by Inga Gezalian.
{Source: Unsplash}

a thought for the poets and also
something a little introspective.

allow your creativity to be a reflection.

in your words:

be brave.
be fearless.
be kind.
be honest.
be unapologetic.
be a map.
be a compass.
be hope.

you have words.
use them wisely.

liezel

MAJESTY 2020—an upcoming creative event in Nelson, NZ.

Friends, I am thrilled to announce that in April this year, I shall be taking part in an exciting creative event hosted by Atelier Studio Gallery in Nelson, NZ:

MAJESTY 2020—an Art & Faith Incubator.

I shall be facilitating a workshop on ‘Exploring Vulnerability and Courage in Creativity.’

In this workshop we shall explore how to step deeper into ourselves as CREATIVES in order to explore the courage required to live, and thus create, vulnerably, and how this allows us to encourage and bring hope to others.

I am in wonderfully fine company with David James (host and Visual Artist), Simon Hunter (Visual Artist), Jill Smith (Visual Artist & Art Therapist), Mark Raffills (Poet) and Dean & Jo McQuoid (Worship Leaders).

It’s going to be a wonderful time of sharing, learning and creating!

Click on the link below for further details.

https://mailchi.mp/9221e4cb4346/majesty-2020-an-art-faith-incubator

you can make anything from ashes. even beauty.

so, your heart is broken

and pain has leached the sunlight from your bones.

what will you do with this gift?

— you can make anything from ashes. even beauty.

© Liezel Graham 2018.

Photography by Annie Spratt.

Yesterday, I shared this poem with a friend whose heart needed a bit of hope, that even the hard things, no—especially the hard things, often lead to wondrous things.

…and that pain, if held onto loosely, can be the substance of beauty.

liezel

{this poem will be in ‘a counting of love’}.

the sweetness of simple things, hard won.

I am watching my son, eleven-and-a-bit years, eat his lunch.

He has the same meal every day—oven chips, carrot and chicken. He takes comfort in the familiar—needs it, like he needs oxygen.

He is using both a fork and a knife.

More than that—he is using ordinary cutlery. He no longer needs specially shaped knives, forks and spoons that are shaped to make it easier to lift food from plate to mouth.

Just beautifully ordinary cutlery.

Taken from the cutlery drawer without a thought and slipped quietly next to plates and bowls.

He still won’t touch food with his bare hands, but this? This one we’ve conquered—the sweet result of years and years of working intensely on a simple skill.

My son is autistic. He also has dyspraxia. Simple instructions such as co-ordinating a knife and a fork at the same time, get lost in the conflicting messages between his neurological system and his muscles.

At least, it used to. Forks and knives and hands and mouth, now listen to his brain.

Dyspraxia impacts his life in hundreds of ways, but we have worked so hard.

Every day.

Giving up, has never been an option.

We don’t know the meaning of those words.

There have been lots of tears.

Mine and his, and we are intimately familiar with frustration.

But give up?

Never.

So, here we are, the two of us, on a quiet Thursday afternoon. It is raining outside, I am having a cup of tea and I am watching my boy eat his lunch with a knife and a fork, and it is an utterly beautiful thing.

— the sweetness of simple things, hard won.

© Liezel Graham 2020.

Photograph William Rouse.

A little glimpse into life in my home and the sweetness of simple things that are hard won.

liezel

on manuscripts and love.

The behind-the-scenes glamour of a book being born.

It’s cold and blowing a hooley out there. In other words it’s the perfect weather for sitting snugly underneath a duvet and deciding which poems go where in manuscript number 2.

Also the perfect excuse to drink copious amounts of hazelnut flavoured coffee.

Now you know some of my deep, writerly secrets and it pretty much boils down to good coffee, and lots of it too!

A Counting of Love, is a beautiful collection of poems and prose poems about love and how it is the golden thread in our lives.

Old love, new love, love as it ends, love as it begins, sacred love, love for our children… love as the glue that holds us together, always.

x

in finding the ones who will hold your heart.

look for the ones who lean into your story.

the ones who don’t shrink back from your pain.

the ones who can hear what you are not saying.

these, are your people.

love them fiercely.

— on finding the ones who will hold your heart.

© Liezel Graham 2019.

Photograph source Pixabay.

{a repost from a year ago}