The balance between creative desire and the moment of execution.

Balance is art - the exact 'enough'.

Balance is art – the exact ‘enough’.

I’ve introduced Jennifer Lean to you before. So here is another quivering yet precise observation from her eloquent pen. As creative people – whether artists, writers, designers, musicians – we have all felt that curious sense of anticipation before we begin the birth of something entirely new: the burst of excitement, anticipation, that tingle of apprehension yet urge to experience the process of creation, the emergence of a dream, that perfect moment before a single drop of perspiration when everything is in balance, in harmony, in tune. That moment when you know something magical is about to happen and it will be the perfect ‘enough’ to change your world in a matter of moments.

~Enough~
by Jennifer Lean

Enough is not honoured. It is ignored
and therefore hard to know
when it arrives.
The weight of it in the palm
is gently neither here nor there
simply, subtly positioned
between too little and too much.
It sits somewhere
in unacknowledged neglect
between having had and wanting more.
It is that silence between having the thought
and uttering it
the spaces between stanzas of poems
between the visitation of meaning
and giving it shape.
It is fingers that are
perfectly poised
suspended in expectant motionlessness
before music emerges.

~~~

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Most perfect description of the human voice – ever.

Sometimes there are people in this world who understand language, words, form and creation better than others. I have many favourite writers and poets that fit into this description. But no one more so than Jennifer Lean, a Cape Town poet whose words will leave you breathless. Somehow, in the fewest words possible she manages to cut you to the bone, strip away all pretenses and defenses, and lay bare the human condition. Her point, sharp as a fencer’s blade, is always made with perfect weight and delivery in the last line. She reaches a core in a reader’s heart, soul and spirit in a way that is indescribable to us mortals. But you will know it when you read it. I will simply leave you to digest.

What must stay

I live dutifully in my sunlight liquid spaces.
Daily I rinse traces of myself away.
Wash imbibed memories down drains.
Sometimes I baulk. Watch for days
as a feather brought in on a breeze
whispers its way along stretches
of my carpet. Watch spillages of books
heap where they hope not to be
in the way. Am seduced by
the singular perfection of a fossilised gecko
on a windowsill.

I watch the sooty stain above my fireplace
grow year by year.
Some signs of what one cannot see
must not be wiped away.

~~~~

And then this extraordinary comment on Salli Terri’s voice:

From this to those

(Salli Terri, Bachianas Brasileiras No 5 – Aria, Heitor Villa-Lobos)

Salli Terri’s voice is unearthly.
It gathers up the scorch
of these fireside coals,
this sky, indigo
beyond the colour,
this inscrutable substance
of moon.
It gathers up all yearning,
this sound within wings, and flies.
It stretches itself infinitely
upward, infinitely outward,
becomes thin, ever thinner,
senses-shattering,
eventually evaporating
into those unknowable silences
where the human voice
implodes.

~~~~

And here is that music that inspired these beautiful words: Salli Terri

Listen – and read. It will blow you away!