I feel I’ve turned a corner, made a circle back.
Circles have odd personal symbolism for me. I am drawn to their forever quality, their symmetry, their perfection.
I remember being amazed when my mother told me that Leonardo DaVinci could draw a perfect circle freehanded. I don’t know if that’s true. I certainly can’t, although I can write in mirror image as he did. A bizarre skill I discovered when my junior high school class was instructed to try it during an art history lesson.
But circles also became the miserably acknowledged symbol of my relationship with my long-ago boyfriend. He was my first real love– my first everything. And I was in deep smit from the get-go, while he kept thinking things would get better.
We came together and broke apart many times during our dysfunctional courtship, and would talk about the “next time” the circle came around whenever we went our separate ways. Thus, circles became a simultaneous symbol for hope and heartbreak.
That is one circle I am glad to say had an end. And happily married, my relationship is linear now so I can redefine my personal symbols. Despite the misery once associated, I am fond of circles again. 🙂
And the circle I feel I’ve recently made holds no malice. I don’t know what exactly let me find my way back to writing after so many years without time or inspiration. But through this novel-writing journey and the people I’ve met along the way, I feel I’ve actually found my way back to poetry.
I can’t explain what that means to me. I haven’t even written anything new, but I’ve discovered a part of myself that had gone missing in these poems I dug out of my basement.
It’s good to be back.