Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: daughter

POST TUB

September 21st, 2016

The Hawk Queen Bed, Near Midnight

Was there ever really an age

of Innocence?

The Lumps of Years

hardly matter anymore —

was it when My Children

were Children?

was it when I was

knocked out every night

on ten milligrams of Olanzapine

not knowing in the morning

if I dreamed?

Today marks Week Fifteen

since I stopped It

at The Site of a Rainbow

and I was going to write

a letter to London, England

to a man I treasured

when I was three —

My Mother’s Lover —

He is old now

and wonders if He’s written

His Last Book —

He takes care of A Man

He Loves — Who has Alzheimer’s —

takes Him when The Man’s Institution

welcomes a break —

I was going to write

that on Week Fourteen

I bleached & bleached

the growing blackness off My Deck

to make It look like driftwood —

It came out looking like that anyway

and My Daughter was proud —

I was going to write

that I replaced the old gold handles

on My Kitchen Cabinets

with wrought-iron-looking ones

picked out by Eliza

and what else did I do today?

I prayed for a dog.

I cooked Day Six

of Our New Ketogenic Diet

resulting from Eliza’s visit

and I believe I am better

off for It — though

I wonder about sleep —

the low carbohydrate level tends to rev Me up

Eliza suggests warm milk

with one tablespoon of honey

at bed time —

should I sleep in Her Room

again?

The Next Morning:

The Hawk Deck 10:17am

I slept with Hunter

not before two o’clock in the morning

and woke with a dream

of being about to meet

The Daughter of The Man

EYE LOVE

I changed Eliza’s sheets —

Her Comforter is hanging out

on the line —

and I heard The Rooster

again

before I got up

to make The Coffee

 

 

 

THE STORY OF A MAP

THE COAST GUARD, Shelburne, N.S., Tuesday, July 20th, 1993 — 1B

SATELLITE ART FOR EXTRATERRESTRIALS

by Harold Hart

Joanna Hyde of Shelburne has

been busy recently in her back-

yard painting the design of a four-

teen point maple leaf on a huge

40 by 30 foot map of Canada.

The fourteen points mark loca-

tions in Labrador and Quebec

where Hyde would like to position

light reflecting surfaces to reflect

star-like points of light in the out-

line of a maple leaf into outer

space.

The large map arrived in Shel-

burne from Ottawa on May 17

where it had been hanging on an

outside wall of the National Arts

Centre.  It was put there by the

Canadian Conference of the Arts

earlier in the year in an effort to

pressure the Federal Govern-

ment to stop cutting funding for

arts programs.  It remained there

until the April 26 budget was

passed.

Joanna learned about the map

from an article in The Chronicle

Herald.  Being interested in what

is called public art – the kind of

art which is large and displayed

outdoors – Joanna decided she

wanted the map.  She contacted

the coordinator of the Canadian

Conference of the Arts and was

told she could have the map if she

would pay the shipping charges.

Joanna agreed and wound up the

new owner for just less than two

hundred dollars.

The map consists of twelve sec-

tions that were circulated to

more than 150 art galleries,

theatres, and schools in each

province where signatures were

affixed to protest government

funding cutbacks for the arts.

Once joined together the pieces

make a huge map of the country

with more than 400,000 signatures

appearing on it…

“Well, what is its weight?”

“Oh, it’s Dead Weight.”

“That’s OK.  I just cremated

My Mother —

She didn’t weigh very much.”

After She painted Her 14-point Maple Leaf

Joanna lay down

and almost died.

She almost died

for years and years.

Long after one husband

cut up the map for tarps

to cover wood piles

at Her First Marital Home

Joanna revived eventually

on poetry and bird song

to find in the Summer of 2016

the abandoned map sections —

one with moss and ferns growing

out of it —

With the help of Her Adult Children

She retrieved three surviving pieces

of The Giant “Ties That Bind

and dragged them across the county

to The East Side of Her Hawk House.

She laid them out

busy in Her Back Yard

hosing and scrubbing a 23-year build up

of Nova Scotia’s Forested Fate

stained and distressed

front and back

to dry in the sun

with the help of a couple of old towels —

not Her Grey One —

there was left no semblance of the configuration

of Canada — only the ghost

of a few red lines

a few patches of indelible signatures

and one partial strip of big black letters

along what must have been

the bottom — in English and French:

…FUNDING FOR ARTS AND CULTURE

She arranged the pieces

some still edged by sturdy grommets —

into what became a nearly perfect square

measuring 27 feet by 23.5 feet:

She had Her Canvas.

She would paint on the BACK.

She folded up the three sections

and with the help of Her Second Husband

She piled Them onto the floor

of The Hawk Utility Room —

the floor She had been using

for Her Most Recent Paintings

and as She writes, She thinks

of building a platform

a stage

perhaps next summer

if there is the same lack of rain

as this one —

She would secure The Triptych

upside down, with the foundation

of Canadian signatures — what’s left of the original

400,000

and setting up Her Gallons of Paint

with broom and hose nearby

She would paint and sweep and hose

Stratosphere of The Universe

 

 

WEEK 12

The Hawk Deck 8:19am

Twelve weeks ago I took

My Last Pill of Olanzapine

and I am stable as I was meant to be

but have to deal with continued

sleep deprivation —

last night I got 61/2 hours

on 2 mgs of Ativan

which is better than the night before —

Eliza and Jon will see

My Sculpture this morning

as it sits on the kitchen counter

with Its Left Eye closed

and Its Right Eye

in Another World —

The Sun is out

and I have the freshness of September

coming into play

 

ONE LOST PAINTING

The Hawk West Desk Window 7:28pm

It filled My Mother’s Sun Deck

during a student year

I used a lot of black

with three blotches of red

positioned unintentionally like cherries

on a banana split

I left It out overnight

when the wind got up

and stuck the paint with leaves

and shaped the canvas

into a highlighted streak

of accidental luminosity

DOWN BY THE GUZZLE

The Hawk Beach 2:57pm

My Father never had Me

or when He did

He pimped Me off

or felt the need

to collect Me from sleepless

hotel rooms —

His Best Hope for Me

(My Brother He had given up on)

was to say,

“You are in ‘Recovery'”

Well — if He could see Me NOW

down by The Guzzle

in The South Wind of July

sitting in The Sand of My Achievement

He might come down from Heaven

or where ever He ended up

and shake My Hand

and send Me on My Way

LAST LEG

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:30pm

I have come through

an oven of madness

I have been broiled

and poked

for The Life of My Daughter

for My Son since He was five

when I made a pact

with My Self

that I would never feel

the pain of the loss

of My Mother

and found instead

the love that sustained Me

through My Temperature Gage

of Molten Silver

and Highest Reverie

I have spoken

of My Vile Nature

black with burnt offerings

of Salvation

for The Masses

yet to come

I am out

on the table

for dinner with My Starving Family

My Ex Husband I loved

in the sun

of Our First House,

a tiny one

I am out,

reposing

to be eaten now

with Mint Jelly

from the shady side

of My Mother’s Well

 

THE LAVENDER ROOM

The West Desk Window 11:25am

Eliza’s lovely little room

was an assignment

for Me to sleep

and By God I slept —

I slept and woke —

woke and slept and dreamed

and tossed off My Love Ring Quilt

and watched The Sun emerge

from The Eastern Waters —

I listened to the early birds

the crows and gulls

and song birds

and yes, the funny funny Rooster

I watched The Sun hit

the wall by the door

and now I am out of there

I have returned to My Husband

and The Cats —

the old dilapidated comforter

the mismatched sheets

and the open window to The West

 

RESTORATION

Eliza’s Room 9:1pm

 

From the kitchen

there’s a pink cloud over

The Scraggly Apple

and from upstairs

in Eliza’s Room

The Same Pink Cloud

is stretched along the beach

beyond the wooded scrub spruce

in preparation

for My Good-Night

 

THE SUN RISES BEHIND CLOUDS & BEAMS ITS WAY THROUGH THEM

The Hawk Corner Room 7:11am

I got up to see

The Sun Rise

over This World O’ Mine

& over the criticism

of This Daughter O’ Mine

Who Ain’t Seen Nothin’

yet

NEWS FLASH

The Hawk Computer 6:04 pm

My Husband, Dr William Hunter Blair, now believes

that My World Trade Center Roof Top Painting from 1984

titled Self Organizing Galaxy

may have given someone the idea

for 9/11

http://carloschagall.com/2015/09/11/self-organizing-galaxy-by-joanna-hyde/comment-page-1/#comment-6419