photo: in Morocco, the dark shadow exiting evokes the year that will soon be out of our (conscious) lives. 

Happy poetic New Year to all   visiting the blog   regularly or from time to time. Since the opening of this blog, I have explored poetry in different forms, but it has always been, since the beginning, about capturing  words   inspired by a moment, a sentence, a word, a photo, a thought, or a mix. I wonder what has occupied my mind on  that day, the nature of my reflections or my concerns, which I then translate into words and I then try to find a photo that will illustrate the words, or it is the other way around, watching a photo triggers thoughts that turn into a poem. Visitors  always make me happy, whether it’s a like or a thought, a preference, an inference: thank you.

I draw my inspiration from different sources, some of which have been constant over the years, while others have dried up over time.  I have preferences: generally speaking, I look for simplicity ( Basho for example), last year I added the New Zealand poet Sam Hunt and Keri Hulme to my list of readings, but I am still haunted by the beauty of Bo Carpelan’s writing , among the French, Saint-John-Perse is still there, Rimbaud, among the English,  Phillip Larkin, the Welsh Dylan Thomas and Basho among the Japanese and many others. Jung, the psychoanalyst  keeps nourishing  my inner world. was pleasantly surprised  recently to read a quote from him saying we should be grateful to our imagination, which I thought, was refreshing (I have a huge reserve of it), after growing up in an environment where such an ability was considered as a hindrance rather than  a growing tool. This year,  I have increasingly listened to different style of music which nourishes my thoughts in a different way.  It is a terrific and privileged journey to be able to explore the nature of life and emotions in this way and I will be back at my desk (which, quite often, is an imaginary one in my head). In the meantime I am sharing the beauty of the New Zealand  summer.

Poetically yours

Sylvie G