My heart aches and sings for you, Kate. Here’s to that “uncanny silence beckoning the imagination to create”. Those mundane, ordinary words of affection reminded me of Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World. (I see friends shaking hands / Saying, "How do you do?" / They're really saying / I love you) 💕
Your words touch the heart. That you are stepping forward inspires. You remind us that many of us have wounded hearts that are still capable of love and compassion, and of hope even in the ever-present absence. I sincerely wish you the best in your new job. May you and your son be surprised by joy each day.
If I still lived in the High Peaks I would call in gladly to the Buxton Book Festival! As well as your new job—congratulations— I truly hope you find as much love and friends as I did in those hills too Kate.
Oh, and I loved this line; "Some days, I try to hold onto the sharpness and itch of the wild grass. It’s as if it is disappearing in my grasp, disintegrating into the earth, up toward stardust." ✨
“Why do people seek the answers of poetry in tragedy yet eschew its significance in everyday life? What if we kaleidescoped our daily existence with the language of poets, in many forms beyond the printed poem — spoken, dancing prose, the movement of things? “
That picture of you two smiling and reading that poem on Father's Day is really sweet and moving, Kate. 🥲🩵🕊️
Thanks Troy. I was so proud of him! 💜
"You used to call." Three words and the whole absence is there. can't say more, just I wish you all the best and more love
Thanks so much, Marcello.
So many deep and granular ways to feel absence. Your writing is just beautiful ❤️
Thank you, Claire!
My heart aches and sings for you, Kate. Here’s to that “uncanny silence beckoning the imagination to create”. Those mundane, ordinary words of affection reminded me of Louis Armstrong’s What a Wonderful World. (I see friends shaking hands / Saying, "How do you do?" / They're really saying / I love you) 💕
Oh yes, you are so right there. Always such wonderful artistic ideas that help the thoughts and emotions go deeper! 🩵
I wish you nothing but the very best . May your new role and your wonderful writing bring you some equilibrium. Wonderful picture of the two of you 💛
Thank you, Jules. Equilibrium is a great way to describe it!
So beautiful. ❤️💔❤️
Thank you 🩷
Gorgeous words, Kate 💜 wishing you all that you deserve in your "new normal." Here's to art, poetry and connection ✨️
Amen, Kate 💜💜
Your words touch the heart. That you are stepping forward inspires. You remind us that many of us have wounded hearts that are still capable of love and compassion, and of hope even in the ever-present absence. I sincerely wish you the best in your new job. May you and your son be surprised by joy each day.
Thanks for such a lovely message, Charles. Yes you capture the sentiment I am trying — to keep moving forward and be curious. Good to have you here.
"Why do people seek the answers of poetry in tragedy yet eschew its significance in everyday life?"
🧡
All so beautiful and moving, Kate.
Nathan 🙏🩵
If I still lived in the High Peaks I would call in gladly to the Buxton Book Festival! As well as your new job—congratulations— I truly hope you find as much love and friends as I did in those hills too Kate.
Oh, and I loved this line; "Some days, I try to hold onto the sharpness and itch of the wild grass. It’s as if it is disappearing in my grasp, disintegrating into the earth, up toward stardust." ✨
Ah, let me know if you visit, Susie! I already love it there and have only spent a few days prior to our move next week.
Thank you…those words really captured something for me.
How I would love to Kate but it’s over 30 years since I set foot in Derbyshire! I still miss the place and the people.
Congratulations on the new job Kate. Your writing contains beauty, as ever.
Thank you, Jeffrey!
Ah yes, I think the job will be really interesting no and excited to share more.
First, my condolences.
These words say a lot:
“Why do people seek the answers of poetry in tragedy yet eschew its significance in everyday life? What if we kaleidescoped our daily existence with the language of poets, in many forms beyond the printed poem — spoken, dancing prose, the movement of things? “