Thank you for these reflections, Kerri, delivered with great beauty and sensitivity always...
I also struggle with attaching capitalistic metrics to my work - especially with poems, which often don't feel like they're ever really mine to begin with.
I'm grateful to you for exploring this so openly, and for holding space at this time. It has value beyond measure 🙏💙
Dear Kerri, what a beautiful piece and thank you for all you do for mothers, we need more people like you on this earth.
Reading your words reminded me of a poem I wrote in 2017. I haven’t shared it before but I feel it might resonate as it was written both from the perspective of a mother and a lover…
Wow - how beautiful. "The Notes section has made me feel increasingly unanchored, lost at sea."- I've felt this too! Gives me a bit of anxiety, a rushed feeling, opposite of what drew me to Substack. "Winter light, on moss falling" - gorgeous!
How can we expect others to value us and what we do, if we don't value ourselves? Putting a price on that is incredibly hard, and often the value cannot be reflected in monetary terms, as you have pointed out. Congratulations on the Arts Council Bursary, they are not easily come by, and it is an affirmation of your talent, the quality of your art, and of the time you invest in your art, and it also has a monetary value, so many things all wrapped up in one. 💕
Most Precious Woman - Your authenticity tangible - felt by my heart and soul. Your Humanity a much needed soulful (tenderly delivered) brilliant light on our shared finite path. A Wisdom Teaching. We, are safe with you - in and out of Circle. Thank you Kerri x
A beautiful piece. Thank you, Kerri. I love how organic this writing feels in both its form and expression - shifting within the strange and often wonderful substrate that is Substack, seeking nourishment and ways to nourish others, in symbiosis.
Starting this, I was reminded of the scene in the movie Beaches when the friend who is dying desperately wants to find a photo of her mother's hands and the other friend helps her ... she goes on to raise the woman's daughter after her death. <3
I love these feelings and thoughts. I deeply feel your passions for women, mothers, artists. The balance for simple creation and needing to make a living is a hard one and yet, it’s the same struggle every artist through time has felt, especially women. Thank you for sharing this, it helped put words to so many of my own feelings ✨
6 years sober. Such an accomplishment. 6 years of grief and the deepest of sorrows and yet, I’m still here.
At 74, I find myself essentially homebound, not by choice but by the strange circumstance of an aging body. I long for deep connection to thoughts of other wise women at the fire. Should you have one subscription left, I would so welcome it. Thank you for your consideration.
Hands, an extension of the heart. 🤍
Thank you for these reflections, Kerri, delivered with great beauty and sensitivity always...
I also struggle with attaching capitalistic metrics to my work - especially with poems, which often don't feel like they're ever really mine to begin with.
I'm grateful to you for exploring this so openly, and for holding space at this time. It has value beyond measure 🙏💙
yes- the open exploration is such a gift.
Dear Kerri, what a beautiful piece and thank you for all you do for mothers, we need more people like you on this earth.
Reading your words reminded me of a poem I wrote in 2017. I haven’t shared it before but I feel it might resonate as it was written both from the perspective of a mother and a lover…
These hands by Marbellys (11 Sep 2017)
These hands have thrown a ball
Swam in the sea
learnt to grip
Firmly
whilst climbing trees
•••
These hands have known
The softness of silk
They have crawled
Played with dolls
Made friendships
•••
These hands have held
Their own babes
Softly, caring
Comforting
Wiping tears, mucky faces
Doing up
Those shoe laces
•••
These hands have toiled
Made beds
Grafted, cooked, plastered
Painted
•••
These hands have touched
The smiling, wrinkled faces
Of loved ones
In far away places
•••
These hands have learnt
The art of caressing
Discovering
Undressing
•••
These hands held the promise
Of having, holding
Loving, caring
Forsaking all others
Till death did its bidding
•••
These hands will hold
Your heart
Carefully
Nurture it
Without oppressing
•••
Trust these hands,
their love is unending
Lovely.
Wow - how beautiful. "The Notes section has made me feel increasingly unanchored, lost at sea."- I've felt this too! Gives me a bit of anxiety, a rushed feeling, opposite of what drew me to Substack. "Winter light, on moss falling" - gorgeous!
How can we expect others to value us and what we do, if we don't value ourselves? Putting a price on that is incredibly hard, and often the value cannot be reflected in monetary terms, as you have pointed out. Congratulations on the Arts Council Bursary, they are not easily come by, and it is an affirmation of your talent, the quality of your art, and of the time you invest in your art, and it also has a monetary value, so many things all wrapped up in one. 💕
Beautiful as ever xx 🌟 Bringing us back to what matters and what is “at hand”. Congratulations on 6 years.
Thank you 🙏🏼
Most Precious Woman - Your authenticity tangible - felt by my heart and soul. Your Humanity a much needed soulful (tenderly delivered) brilliant light on our shared finite path. A Wisdom Teaching. We, are safe with you - in and out of Circle. Thank you Kerri x
In Circle - All My Relations
Blessings, Love and Peace
Such beautiful words, Kerri.
Beauty beauty beauty, all of it.
A beautiful piece. Thank you, Kerri. I love how organic this writing feels in both its form and expression - shifting within the strange and often wonderful substrate that is Substack, seeking nourishment and ways to nourish others, in symbiosis.
so lovely kerri, thank you for your generous words ❤️
As humans, I've always thought that touch gives the soul more than any emotion. A lovely write.
Starting this, I was reminded of the scene in the movie Beaches when the friend who is dying desperately wants to find a photo of her mother's hands and the other friend helps her ... she goes on to raise the woman's daughter after her death. <3
I love these feelings and thoughts. I deeply feel your passions for women, mothers, artists. The balance for simple creation and needing to make a living is a hard one and yet, it’s the same struggle every artist through time has felt, especially women. Thank you for sharing this, it helped put words to so many of my own feelings ✨
6 years sober. Such an accomplishment. 6 years of grief and the deepest of sorrows and yet, I’m still here.
At 74, I find myself essentially homebound, not by choice but by the strange circumstance of an aging body. I long for deep connection to thoughts of other wise women at the fire. Should you have one subscription left, I would so welcome it. Thank you for your consideration.