Summer has fallen and my Tanka couldn’t but follow…

English translation of the Tanka:

every day raindrops
on the map – it’s sunny now
beckoning me out
but I find my feet frozen
in the work I have to do

The skies have turned a dull kind of heavy and specks of blue light up the world only every now and then. The wind is blowing us the first tidings of approaching winter, so it’s chilly. Sitting at my writing desk where the heating can’t reach me, the cold of the wall grips my calves and stiffens my feet to a point where it hurts. To loosen its hold on me I now have a little blanket by my side and when I feel the icy hand caress my legs, I cover them with softness and warmth. I must look like a granny bent over her writing desk. If only my room looked like a Victorian parlor and a fire were burning in my hearth.

Sometimes it’s not so much the cold itself as the grey that stops the warmth inside of me. Or my blood freezes when I get caught in my work and sit still for too long. If only my long walks could free me from the ice cold satyr then. But most times these days one moment in silence will bring the nay with the gentle ticking of my weeping window.

Yesterday I had planned to do a mighty bulk of work. There are some preparations I want to do for my LIVE Writing and Illustrating Tanka workshop for 9 December. And I wanted to finish preparations for a big project I want to work on after that. Not even mentioning that I have so many Tanka left to illustrate for which my fingers are itching and so many illustrations that are crying out to be united with a Tanka. I other words, my hours were filled to the brim and beyond.

And then the sun shone. So brightly, so merrily. It made my feet itch for a walk…my nose itch for a sniff of decaying summer and my ears itch for the sound of the geese gathering in a field nearby. A friend hopped by and when she set out on her walk, I felt caught between the sun and my pen. Afraid to let a rare moment pass me by, afraid to fall irreparably behind with my work.

While my angel and devil were fighting their battle on my shoulders, the war was won by my writing desk. I put on my granny garment, hoisted up my pen, feasted my eyes on the bleak powder blue sky and bright gold of the leafless stems waving hello in my garden and set to work.

LIVE cursus Tanka Schrijven en Illustreren

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Op 9 december aanstaande vindt de ééndaagse workshop Tanka Schrijven en Illustreren plaats op een rustieke locatie in Zeeland. Op deze pagina leest u meer.