Diary of a Looker

I found this poem that was written about me whilst I was travelling around Europe many summers ago... More details tomorrow.

Diary of a Looker

My Girlfriend, isn’t like most other girls.

She likes poking and searching, looking,

and by looking I mean that she stares and squats and thinks until she thinks that she understands what she is looking at.

And what she is looking at is usually something slimy or beastly or floppy or frantic things that little boys like to catch and squeeze and poke and,

finally,

put in a jar,

consigned to long slow death.

But my girlfriend isn’t a ten year old boy, she is a twenty-six year old girl and she watches and stares until she understands. Most other girls skip by merrily these dirty scurrying things,

else they are too absorbed in staying away from them,

putting barriers between them and the cracks and the crannies the beasts inhabit.

Not so our Alex she looks.

This is Mike writting the poem, and me looking in cracks and crannies for beastly things. I didn't know he was writting this at the time! I thought the paper this was written on was long gone, but in my organisation and tidying up, and preparation of my studio, and workshop (which is what I've been doing and where I have been) I have found lots of things that I had presumed lost. And I remember that I am blessed.

More soon

Esmae x