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Under the Writing Desk / Nicole Rushin Photography

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“The language of storytelling and poetry is the powerful sister of the dream language…there appears to be within the psyche a poetry-making and art-making function that arises when a person spontaneously or purposefully ventures near the instinctive core of the psyche.“  from Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D.  / Woman Who Run With the Wolves

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Journaling / Photo Prompt
August 2012

I was sitting in the potting shed reading, snapping pictures of sunlight and scribbling margin notes in my copy of Women Who Run With the Wolves when I came across this word, Duende /do͞oˈendā/, the goblin spirit behind passion, or beauty, art or the dance, or of life. It also means the power to attract through personal magnetism and charm.

I looked up just as one streaked across the floor…

Goblins, spirits, dreams
And words are like this -Duende
They come in a flash
Under the chair – under the desk
Needle pricks of tinsel swords
Biting fangs
Unkempt nails that drag
And scrape
Through mud and feast
On the entrails of worms

We never want to see these things.
We never want to admit to the things that go on beneath the writing desk.
The things that graze our feet tenderly as we think.

No poet, writer or artist can resist the charm of the Duende Spirit.

We are called into the beneath for many things
To claim our colors – azure
A shade apart from purple or blue
A tincture of moonlight perhaps
We are given ladders – maps
Bean-stalks that wrap through our dreams

There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with me. And nothing gruesome about the Duende at your feet. It is much like the story of the Ugly Duckling. If you follow him into his world you will see he has wings, white feathers and the neck of an S.

Thomas Moore had this to say in his book Original Self,

“The soul is lost in our everyday lives whenever we try to force ourselves to fit some norm of health or correctness. When the ever-creative soul is allowed to rise up from the deep reservoir of life that is its home, we become unpredictable and not easily squeezed into the narrow expectations of what a person should be…”

I wonder how completely you believe in your dream?
I wonder if you can love that thing once perceived as ugliness?
Society tends to see the different as being bad, wrong or ugly.

And another excerpt from Thomas Moore.

“One important aspect of finding one’s original core is the realization that the deeper one goes into the self, the more poetic one’s language and ideas become.”

 

And if I am all things in my dream then I am all things in my reality. Life begins in the dreamworld, in the beneath. It is not the other way around. And if at once I believed the Duende was something outside of  me, something ugly, something unknown, now I know he is me. Come forth to feed me poetry and dreams.
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