Elegies

“Look, I said, Indian pipes, flowers for ghosts. You stopped to gather a few of the livid blooms, then we went on through deepening woods. You walk there still - ghost flowers withering in your hands, long since a ghost” - Robert Hayden Several years ago I was devastated by the unraveling of my marriage. It was a period of grief, the kind of loss that leaves you unable to orient yourself in the world. Only time and slow movements forward brought me back to myself. During this process I came across an elegy written by Robert Hayden that centered around Indian Pipes, also known as ghost flowers. It resonated with an experience of wandering through a metaphorical forest, but in my haze I was unable to do anything with it. Some time later, after I returned to my home on San Juan Island from my studies on the East Coast, I came across the ghost flowers during a walk through the forest. This started a series of Elegies. A soft focusing of light through the dark.