CAMBRIDGE OPEN STUDIOS EXHIBITION

Continuing with my thread of artistry taking all forms, Wimbledon included, July is the month during which Cambridge artists exhibit their work - usually in their own homes and studios but occasionally in venues that act as surprising galleries. Like the Old Fire Engine in Ely where an artist called Michael Edwards is exhibiting his work. As the daughter of artists, I suppose buying the art of other artists is slightly suspect - but I like the idea of building up an eclectic art collection. One day, one day.

Mum has been using my portrait as her calling card this year. Which means all around the city, I am casually draped on kitchen tables and peeking out from bowls cluttered with car keys and spare buttons. Come visit if you're in the neighbourhood. Only one weekend more before the Open Studios comes to an end for another year. Portraits make great surprise gifts - most of Mum's commissions are for such gifts.

SELF-PORTRAIT

First the hair

before it falls,

taffy, black molasses.

Then the skin,

fever-flush pink,

marshmallow cheeks,

(steroid-filled).

Wait, I forgot the eyes,

(I don’t see too well, these days)

obscured by tubes and blebs

and blood.

And then the mouth

that eats poetry

and cake

and spills happiness by the barrel.

The body ballet depends on the day:

sometimes a corpse,

and other times, a salmon

leaping, dolphin hooting

medley.

Slumped on the desk, scribing,

tucked up in bed, scribing,

hooked to the needles,

falling down the manholes,

scribing.

I find my eyes again,

scribing.

There you are,

light.

© Shaista Tayabali, 2014

Took this at the hospital just before one of my many myriad procedures.
This is how I see sometimes. Bit blurry, bit double visiony...

And this is how my mother sees me. Under her hands, I become whole. 

(Another interpretation of a dverse poets prompt…)