SilkBones
A collection of inspirations and notes expanding on my sketchbooks...
twitter.com/SiobhanRodgers:
Find/ follow me on Instagram, I’m posting there so much more these days… Search for InkandLight or Siobhan Rodgers, hope to see some of you there soon Xx
He’s the shadow lingering on the edge of your nightmare. He’s the teenage dream you conjured some lonely midnight. You knew really, they’re the same thing. His heart is darker than that wool coat he hides it behind, a demon named all wrong, all cool and easy charm and a closed fist. His eyes are…
Practicing characterisation over on The Word Girl, using my old loves as inspiration, I’m hoping no one is offended and I get some feedback on my writing, please if you have a minute, hop on over and leave me a note? Thank you Xx
At night I don’t sleep, I write, pouring ink onto paper with my heart; stories, poetry and ideas, snippets of beautiful things, a comfort, a distraction from the dark. Each morning my fingers are covered in ink, as blue as the dawn, and is that the mark of a writer? My mother says I was born to this; before I knew the alphabet, before there was school and exercise books full of copied letters, I was writing, covering pages in tiny ooooooooo’s, broken like words on an inked page, telling my parents with all the exasperation a toddler can muster that I was writing a story, as if they were in my way or costing me time. And so these twenty something years later I write, words now, magical, strange, distracting words; my comfort blanket, my saviour; for a word, after a word, after a word is power…. *
I’ve been careful with my words, locking them in drawers and only giving them to those I trusted with my life or more, but I’ve needed feedback, constructive and insightful and so I’ve started a new blog “The Word Girl” (because yes, I need four…) in the place of a writing group I had been planning to attend and which fell though, so dear Internet, please be my writing group? Read and comment, prompt me, push me, send me links, please? S Xx
*Margaret Atwood “Spelling”
Are you following my other tumblr Ink and Light Arts? Mostly like a scrapbook/moodboard of thoughts and photos both found and taken, all things me that don’t “fit” here… Xx
Bloody.
Bog-down and eider
a map scattered to the winds
Threads in forty shades
hours of silence
and sisters always wait behind"
(Source: silk-bones)
-The Twelve Wild Geese (Sister), Siobhan Rodgers 2008-2011 (Rushes, twine, bog-cotton, pins and ribbon.) Here pictured in Ps2 Belfast
black as jealousy and deep dark earth.
White as snow and pure as love,
pale as bone and snowy dove.
Red as blood, raw as grief
red as birth and pure silk sheath.
Black beady eye and feathers white
red evening sky and his wings taking flight"
The Juiper Tree - Siobhan Rodgers 2011
she’s traced it a thousand times,
down that path and boldly through the woods…
Red velvet on white crumpled sheets
the stars on fire
and him;
red satin scars, a mouthful of pennies
and dark velvet earth"
Little Red - Siobhan Rodgers 2011
(Source: silk-bones)
a litany of time and salt.
a mother’s love
White and fierce
as pale as death and bible black
her wind fallen beauty gone sour
and that apple never falls far from the tree"
(Source: silk-bones)
The Red Shoes - Siobhan Rodgers 2011
snow like sherbet on her tongue
the red maps calling her onward
Home.
And she isn’t china and porcelain
she’s chaos theory and between the lines
she’s fire and patience
and a pair of red shoes…"
appreciated them for what they were
a wild thing
charmed and tousled.
As it was he cut and pulled
and twisted
until all that remained were neat stumps
brown and hopeless"
-Briar Rose, Siobhan Rodgers 2011
(The text on the wall beside the previously posted piece…)
(Source: silk-bones)
