the physics of excursions to the moon//or such

gouache on paper

gouache on paper

there’s poetry
even in brussels sprouts,
yet this one’s best time
passed already

“you look ugly” i say,
knife in hand & peeling back
layer after layer
for some fresh green,
wondering how i’d mix that color
if i’d paint ’em

just a bit ago,
i broke a giant glass plate
when i tried to frame
the accordion player, who
coincidently looks like my son,

standing there, a bit clueless
how to clean the mess
without cutting my hands,
about movement &
the math of things,
unstable in themselves

in school i learned,
glass is a liquid actually–
it seems so solid, but still moves,
we just can’t see,

because of this we think
it never happens,

i wipe my hands
as the phone rings, it’s hubs
from at work for the 5th time

“sir” i say, “this is telephone terror–”

“just thought i’d see what you’re doing”

“hmmm, i–”

but some things
are not that easy to explain,
so i ask “do you know why glass
can break, even though it is a liquid

“it’s amorph”


“cause they cool it down so quickly–
you broke something–?”

& i go back to the kitchen,
pass the broken glass, my watercolors,
venus, mars, a splintered milky way,

on the floor, the scattered plans
for a rocket into space


32 responses to “the physics of excursions to the moon//or such

  1. Hmm…you provided the hub with too many clues…so he could figure out that you broke something…I do love how you make everyday events so very special.

  2. Have cat terror going on right now … as my cat Theo seems to be jealous of you, so does my man … too funny … back in the kitchen as well right now … trying to thing straight … love does this to you …

  3. Poetry in Brussel sprouts? Wow, that is news to me! As for breaking plates and glasses, I seem to have a talent for that… although not when flinging them at a passing husband or random wall…

  4. the warmth of your art is so welcoming. telephone terror is a riot. and i always seem to love what you see in the broken world. happy new year. love and peace to you and your family in 2014:)

  5. You write so well AND SO FUNNY! I read that Chicago (US) and Mars wre the same temerature this morning…
    So glass is really fluid–just like a steel girder is fluid? Hmmm, those protons, neutrons and electrons are busy peeps.

    Loved this all the way, yur son on accorian should lift it a bit higher on his chest, or his back will quit him while he’s WAY too young. YOU must have a LOT of fun, living life, diing dishes, traveling in your work, painting, writing, nurturing family. When people like me don’t even know which day this is! But I be busy also, because there is too much to do!

    LOVE your work, Claudia, and love YOU! HAPPY 2014…..

  6. errr…are you sure there is poetry in brussel sprouts….ha…i have gagged a few down…i guess there is even in the things we dont like….interesting too on the liquidity of glass…and even then it can shatter….the choice to use venus and mars as well…in their shattered galaxy….

  7. This fascinates, kinda tickles the long lost scientist within me. Enjoyed the blend of science and art, broken glass and brussels sprouts. And wow, now you’re working in gouache!

  8. Old brussel sprouts are not fun.. Sometimes you have to peel almost everything off.. Still it can be lovely… the breaking glass is an interesting problem… truly glass and liquids are not really the same.. It’s actually a separate state borrowing some attributes from solids other from liquids… (hmmm did I sound too much like a phycics teacher there….?)

  9. I bet you could write something beautiful even about ugly brussel sprouts. Your mind seems to be like glass, it moves constantly in and out of all its fragments, where you find the moon, and all sorts of things, colors, images.

  10. Ha ha. I would find it hard to see poetry in Brussels sprouts since they are my least favorite vegetables. I can find poetry in glass though. Glass can be fascinating even if it is broken.

  11. Chuckles! There’s so much fun in narrating a vessel of liquid that broke! And a lovely accompanying sketch. Wonderfully wrapped Claudia!


  12. “about movement &
    the math of things,” great line, weaving brussel sprouts and rocket ships do seemlessly. I also like Bjorn’s physics teacher response, but I also enjoy the magic/myth of objects and how we might explain them imaginatively, if not purely scientific.

  13. your writing continues to peel back those layers until you can find the bright color – love the final lines with the planets and stars – beautiful! Hope your 2014 is filled with bright color and joy – K

  14. Enjoyed the artwork but, I’ll pass on Brussels sprouts..broken glass, watercolors in the shades of planets..really like that image. It’s nice to be reading your work..

  15. Oh Claudia! I am loving the imagery here and yearn to explore a “splintered Milky Way”. I am reminded of the liquidness of glass as most of the windows in this house are original, thin, lead and quite beautifully delicate. You can see the movement in them. I haven’t the heart to change them…

  16. BTW, Brussel Sprouts are delicious with a tiny drizzle of oil and salt then roasted in the oven. The outer leaves turn a lovely caramel…

  17. I love brussel sprouts, but with bacon and olive oil and thyme; this is akin to painting a still life scene, writing about still life starts out as an ordinary event and turns into a rich tapestry of images and you provide us the man with the accordion to ponder..and the milky way….why is it we all love your poetry, recognize your unique sense of humor and style..and appreciate your your many talents…and we (I) still cannot produce anything even close to in genius…we are driving down the road of life and you decorate the scenery, tell the stories, and interpret the world in the most delightful of ways….happy new year.

  18. That has always fascinated me, the fact that glass is actually a liquid. Love the way that you led us to the rocket ship 🙂 Happy New Year!

  19. Oh, wonderful. I really like your style – it speaks to me so clearly. I’ve always loved poetry, but some I find I have to work harder to connect with. I guess maybe it’s the visual learner in me seeing your scene just as you painted it.
    As to glass being liquid, I don’t truly get that either, except we lived in a 100 year old house for 7 years. it had the original windows, and the bottom was harder to see through. It was thicker. That’s when The Engineer tried to explain it to me. Not that I get it, but I have SEEN it.
    Tina @ Life is Good