Midwinter mudfest
Winter has receded for now, interrupted by an early snow melt resulting in a festival of mud.
The word mud, meaning “moist, soft earth,” can be traced to the late 14th century, where it probably came from the Middle Low German word mudde. In the 1580s, mud was sometimes used to refer to the worst of anything. Yet beauty, sustenance, inspiration all can emerge from mud, as this week’s combistory attests. Go ahead, click the links. That’s the whole point of this combinatory play.
Thick is the mud of my attachment
bamboo groves
in the midst of winter
deep as my childhood’s sleep
the pulse in the present
mud: poet, memoirist, and mixed-media creator Joan Conway, who lives in Terrace, BC, graciously contributed the first line of this week’s combistory; the word mud links to Joan’s video demonstration of the beautiful folded book she made to house her poem about what “happens below the interface where mud and lotus meet”
bamboo: Latvian fibre artist Erika Zutere lends the phrase “bamboo groves” to the combistory in her description of her star-shaped folded book
winter: Fabienne Dorsman-Rey is an eco-printer and natural dyer, gardener, intuitive embroiderer, mark-maker, story teller, and acupuncturist who lives in The Netherlands; line 3 of the combistory comes from her stitched piece “Wintering”
deep: line 4 of the combistory comes from Jill Solnicki’s poem “Missing,” read by the author on The New Quarterly’s Instagram
pulse: Juanan Requena works with photography and visual narrative in Nauchipán, Spain; line 5 of the combistory is a translation of his diary “el pulso en presente”
6 Responses to “Midwinter mudfest”
What an interesting poetic process and interactive engagement. And all that mud!
Thanks for stopping by, Joe. 🙂
So honoured to be immersed in this mudfest.
Love your compolation
XO
You’re such an inspiration, Joan, continually. xo
As has already been alluded to: no mud, no lotus. But, come on!
So glad I found this. Thanks to Joan for forwarding.
Love to see you Leslie.
I’m glad you did too, Judy.