my life as an artichoke

thanks, john derian, for your big picture book

Usually if I’m writing about an artichoke it would be in relation to food, you know, dipping each triangular-ish leaf in warm butter or uber garlicky mayo. However, I think there are other enticements to an artichoke.

peeling away the layers reveals the heart

My life as an artichoke generates all sorts of images. They have prickly points on the end of each petal, with tough outer layers and layers underneath that are delicate. As you continue to strip off the outer leaves, you’ll eventually reach the choke … and the heart.

oh thistle with a heart

a flower bud that hasn’t bloomed

peeling away layer after layer

a picture of living, delight, anticipation

in the book of things, something magical

hidden under pricked leaves

choke guards the heart

‘til security petals are stripped away

Life is full of hard stuff, mine being no exception to the rule. A few years back times, events and situations were brutally difficult. It was at that time, I noted in a journal, that I felt like an artichoke with many layers; most of which I viewed as the tough outer ones that needed to be discarded. In retrospect, that was exactly what was happening.

I am an artichoke -

Missy

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