Monday, November 9, 2020

‘Invisible Octopus’ translated into four languages

 

With the help of  kind friends my ‘Invisible Octopus’ Poem has been translated into four language: Spanish, German, Dutch and French.  Scroll down for:

 

  • “Pulpo Invisible” translated by Myli Pincheira V.  
  • Unsichtbarer Oktopus”  translated by Heike Chlebosz 
  • “Onzichtbare Octopus” vertaald met ondersteuning van Els Pieters
  •  “Pieuvre Invisible” translated by Marie-Annick Desplanques 

 


Limited edition poem booklet, prints, and greeting cards (suitable for framing) 

are available from https://www.corinaduyn.com/site/poem/


Invisible Octopus 

by Corina Duyn 

 

The reality of life 

with the unpronounceable illness 

Myalgic Encephalomyelitis

is hidden and fragile


M.E. as Invisible Octopus 

acting as puppeteer 

keeping me upright 

or making me stumble at will 


inflicting pain 

challenging my brain 

its crushing weight

taking my breath away


Rosie cheeks

looking well they say

summer is coming

happy thoughts will cure you


I live in a disbelieving world

my reality 

trivialised

dismissed 


My full time carers

witness Octopus’ destruction 

for others I simply disappear

into the shadows


I am just one in this worldwide

community of hermits

where freedom of movement

is no longer a right


Transcending gravity

I fly among the birds

Their beauty and harmony

uplifting and strengthening 


After a short flight 

Octopus attacks

Pinning me down 

immobilised 


each moment is a death 

Breathe

...

Each moment is a living


Finding peace in my solitude

I observe the dance of the trees

There is movement 

in stillness


My creative mind

the visible thread

throughout this twenty-two-year long story

Transforming pain into poetry


 



Pulpo Invisible
Por Corina Duyn - Translated by Myli Pincheira V.


La realidad de una vida

con la impronunciable enfermedad 

Encefalomielitis Miálgica

es frágil y oculta


E.M como Pulpo Invisible

actúa cual titiritero

me mantiene erguida

o bien tambaleando a su antojo


infringiendo dolor

desafía a mi cerebro

su demoledor peso

me deja sin respiro


Mejillas Rosa

luces bien dicen ellos

Se acerca ya el verano

pensar positivo te curará


Vivo en un mundo que no comprende 

mi realidad

trivializada

dejada a un lado


Mis cuidadores de tiempo completo 

testigos de la destrucción de El Pulpo

Para otros yo simplemente 

desaparezco entre las sombras


Soy tan solo una más 

en esta aldea global de ermitaños 

donde la libertad de movimiento 

ya no es un derecho


Trascendiendo la gravedad

vuelo entre los pájaros

Su belleza y armonía

me alientan y fortalecen


Luego de un breve vuelo

Pulpo ataca

Acorrala

inmoviliza


cada momento es una muerte

Respiro

Cada momento es vida


Encuentro paz estando a solas

observo el danzar de los árboles

Hay movimiento 

en la quietud


Mi mente creativa

hilo conductor 

de estos extensos veintidós años de historia 

Transformando el dolor en poesía


 


Limited edition poem booklet, prints, and greeting cards (suitable for framing) 


Unsichtbarer Oktopus 
Corina Duyn - translated by Heike Chlebosz

 

Die Realität des Lebens
mit der unaussprechlichen Krankheit
Myalgische Enzephalomyelitis
ist zerbrechlich und nicht sichtbar

 

M.E als Unsichtbarer Oktopus

agierend als Puppenspieler

der mich stehen

der mich fallen lässt


Der Schmerz zuführt

herausfordert

dessen erdrückende Last

mir die Luft zum Atmen nimmt


Rote Bäckchen so wie Rosie 

Gut ausschauend sagen Sie         

Der Sommer kommt 

alles wird gut glaub nur 


Aber in meiner Welt glaubt man nicht

Meine Realität

trivialisiert

ignoriert 


Mein Pflegepersonal sieht 

was der Oktopus anrichtet

Für die anderen 

verschwinde ich im Schatten


Ich bin nur eine unter vielen 

in dieser weltweiten Gemeinschaft von Einsiedlern

die das Recht verloren haben

sich frei zu bewegen


Die Schwerkraft ausser Kraft setzend

fliege ich mit den Vögeln

ihre Schönheit und Harmonie

stärkend und schön


Nach einem kurzen Flug nur

greift Oktopus an

fixiert 

immobilisiert mich


Jeder Moment ist tödlich 

Atme

...

Jeder Moment bedeutet Leben


Frieden findend mit meinem Dasein

schaue ich den Bewegungen der Bäume zu

In der Stille

liegt Bewegung


Meine Kreativität

der rote Faden

der sich durch diese zweiundzwanzig Jahre lange Geschichte zieht

verwandelt Schmerz zu Poesie 

 


Still from the studio visit based around the poem:https://youtu.be/QyQJ28K_RdY


Onzichtbare Octopus  

Corina Duyn vertaald met ondersteuning van Els Pieters


De realiteit van het leven

met de onuitspreekbare ziekte

Myalgische Encefalomyelitis

is verborgen en kwetsbaar


ME als Onzichtbare Octopus

fungerend als marionettenspeler

houdt me rechtop

of laat mij struikelen wanneer hij wil


veroorzaakt pijn

manipuleert mijn hersenen

zijn verpletterende gewicht

beneemt mij de adem          


Rozige wangen                

je ziet er goed uit zeggen ze

de zomer komt eraan

positieve gedachten zullen je genezen


Ik leef in een sceptische wereld

mijn realiteit

gebagatelliseerd

verstoten         


Mijn fulltime verzorgers

zijn getuigen van Octopus’ vernietigingskracht

voor anderen verdwijn ik

in de schaduw


Ik ben er slechts één van deze wereldwijde 

gemeenschap van kluizenaars

waar bewegingsvrijheid

niet langer een recht is


De zwaartekracht overstijgend

vlieg ik tussen de vogels

Hun schoonheid en harmonie

verheffend en versterkend


Na een korte vlucht

valt Octopus aan

Haalt me neer

verplettert me


Elk moment is sterven

Ademen

...

Elk moment is leven


Vrede vindend in mijn alleen-zijn    

observeer ik de dans van de bomen

Er is beweging

in de stilte


Mijn creatieve geest

de zichtbare draad

tijdens dit al tweeëntwintig jaar durende verhaal

Pijn omgezet in pure poëzie






Limited edition poem booklet, prints, and greeting cards (suitable for framing) 



Pieuvre Invisible 
par Corina Duyn 
Translated by Marie-Annick Desplanques 



La réalité de la vie

avec la maladie imprononçable

Encéphalomyélite  Myalgique

est cachée et fragile


E.M. comme Pieuvre Invisible 

agissant comme marionnettiste 

me gardant debout 

ou me faisant trébucher à son gré 


infligeant la douleur
défiant mon cerveau

son poids écrasant

à me couper le souffle


Les joues rosies

vous vont bien disent ils

c’est l’été qui arrive

les pensées positives vous guériront


Je vis dans un monde incrédule

ma réalité 

banalisée

écartée 


Mes soignants à temps plein

constatent la destruction de Pieuvre

pour d’autres je disparais tout simplement

dans l’ombre


Je ne suis que l’une de cette communauté 

mondiale d’ermites

où la liberté de mouvement

n’est désormais plus un droit



Transcendant la gravité

Je vole parmi les oiseaux

Leur beauté et leur harmonie

exaltantes et tonifiantes

Après un court vol 

Pieuvre attaque 

M’épinglant à terre

immobilisée


chaque instant est une mort 

Respire

...

Chaque instant est une vie


Trouvant la paix dans ma solitude

J’observe la danse des arbres

Il y a du mouvement 

dans l’immobilité


Mon esprit créatif

le fil visible

de cette histoire de vingt-deux ans

Transformant la douleur en poésie



©️Corina Duyn 2020 https://www.corinaduyn.com/site/poem/



Sunday, November 1, 2020

Shedding

Life is peculiar. Life is never linear. Life can be like a rollercoaster ride with its gentle rolls where one can take a deep breath of relief only to experience those terrifying highs and lows again. Such is life. Presently lots is changing. In terms of my health. In terms of the care I require. As well as changes in my care team. Lots to comprehend. Time to rewrite - time for a new era. 


For months I am engaging in ‘space-clearing’. Bit by bit I am letting go of anything I either don’t really need, or no longer require, or don’t particularly like. Or would be of more use in someone else’s life. Even books. My tv. I keep what I need, what brings me joy, which has memories attached I simply am not ready yet to let go off.


Some of these decisions were dictated by a change in health. Over a short time I became more and more unable to tolerate the clothes I loved for years. Many a morning I’d be close to tears by the thought of having to get dressed. Clothes brought an extreme reaction to the sensation of touch. Of being trapped. Even clothes which were not tight. I’d tolerate t-shirts for a few seconds before I had to ask my carers to pull them off straight away. Panic. I could no longer deal with trousers which were baggy and made ‘noise’ when I walked. I couldn’t deal with a shirts because of the collars. I was at a total loss on what to wear. 


Like a snake I shedded my skin - my clothes.

I bought a new set of clothes. Big, soft clothes. Just a few pieces. When I decided to do this big ‘culling’ of my wardrobe it actually felt liberating... After the few tears of letting go of my once beloved clothes. It was a letting go of another era. Most of my wardrobe now has new homes- new bodies. I am comfortable again in my new skin. My new clothes. And marvel at how little I need. Still more to let go.


Letting go of the old - makes room for the new.


Books. Ah, books. Letting go of books used to be a challenge. I used to love, absolutely love my library of books. Then suddenly I was overwhelmed by the amount of books I owned. Over the past few months I let go of quite a few books. In the past few weeks I am more rigorous. Lots of books went into the ‘give away’ box. Disability Study ones are now in new ownership (More to go). Other books I am re-reading, and if I truly love the story, the sentiment, the writing, the author, it will go back on the shelf. Others go into the ever filling box.


It is all very liberating to be honest. And an interesting experiment in what books I liked enough in the past to keep. Some I’d say just ended up on the shelf without a special attachment to them. Some were obviously very much right for a particular time of my life. And of no interest right now. Some are absolute beauties and will stay with me for the rest of my life.


This morning I realised that I also need to let go of my own previously published books*. So, I am offering them to you at half price. I prefer them to be read than stored away in my space. I hope they’ll bring joy to new readers. I hope they will share a tiny nugget of wisdom I gained during two decades of illness. “Hatched”, “Into the Light”, “Cirrus Chronicles”, “Snapshots”, and “Life Outside the Box”. Of some books I only have a few copies left.


                If interested, PLEASE ORDER HERE.


The half price will be calculated on the books.  Please let me know at either Paypal level or via an email to me that you have read about this offer, and I will refund the 50% of the cost of the books via PayPal. (Full postage will be charged.)


If you can make a case for wanting my books but have no funds to pay for them, please DO let me know and we make a deal. Please do let me know.


Please be well. Stay safe. And thank you for your company in person or via cyberspace.


Corina 


*This offer is not for the ‘Invisible Octopus’ Poem booklet or related art works which can be ordered here.

Monday, September 28, 2020

‘Invisible Octopus’ - the demands of a creative mind

Dear friends and family


I truly hope this finds you well in this peculiar year. Who could have predicted the challenges we all had to face? For me not a lot changed due to Covid-19, and yet many changes are happening, including the direction of my creative work.


‘Time’ by Corina Duyn


The demands of my creative mind


The restrictions on movements enforced on many were for me not a result of the pandemic but due to an increased level of illness. However, as has been apparent throughout this now 22 year ‘adventure’ of life with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (M.E.) my creative mind demands its wishes to be fulfilled. No matter what state my body is in. Most of the time this is a blessing. At times it is a challenge. Even peacefully looking at the birds outside my window manages to infiltrate my creative mind. All experiences culminating in the ‘Invisible Octopus’ project and ‘Ribbon of Light’ exhibition.


All things puppet 


After facilitating the ‘Life Outside the Box’ puppet project (2014/5) I was invited by Dr. Emma Fisher to share my experiences at the first ‘Broken Puppet Symposium on Puppetry, Disability & Health (UCC, 2017). There I entered the astonishing world of all things puppet. Since that time I delved further into using puppetry as a personal exploration of illness and disability through research as well as making new work. I have been given amazing opportunities to lecture in Ireland, UK and via Skype (now Zoom) in Brazil and Chile. What an honour.


Last year during a spell in hospital I communicated with Emma, who has a PhD in Puppetry and Disability if she would guide me exploring more accessible directions in my work.


Invisible Octopus 


We were successful in our application for the Arts & Disability Connect mentoring Award 2019. For me it was the start of an incredible journey. Although the aim was to write a script for a puppet film using my existing puppets, I learned an awful lot more. It turned into the most profound exploration of life with M.E. I have ever experienced. There was no hiding. It was raw. It was beautiful. And continues to be. (See: Invisible Octopus links to articles )


The word ‘shadow’ uttered during the first mentoring meeting triggered a the memory of a story I had written a few years ago: ‘living in the shadows of an Invisible Octopus’. In a vert short time Octopus became the metaphor for M.E. ... M.E. as Invisible Octopus/acting as puppeteer/ keeping me upright/ or making me stumble at will/ inflicting pain/challenging my brain/ its crushing weight taking my breath away ...


A year ago I had no idea how much this one word ‘shadow’ would be profoundly influential on my creative direction. 






Shadow puppetry


Yes Emma suggested using shadow puppetry as an element in my proposed film. She introduced me to its various possibilities. Yes I did very much enjoy playing with images on an overhead projector. Loved it so much that I sourced a projector for myself. But puppetry for me was still my puppets and the fabric octopus I had created (with help). The projector remained an obstructing in my study. I hadn’t realised the full force of this incredible and accessible art form until very recently.


A few months ago I finally started cutting paper images I wanted to play around with on the projector. Lying in my recliner I cut various tiny paper-me’s, as well as my wheelchair, the tree in my garden, and a huge variety of birds. Hands, houses, anything of interest was made into a potential shadow puppetry image. The fun! I was having so much fun with this work. And I could do this without having to ask and accept help.


I shared the early explorations on my Facebook Art Page  and they were received with so many astonishing positive and encouraging comments. From friends and stranger, from people with no prior experience of shadow puppetry to professional practitioners. Wow! 


I hit a nerve with these images. Both for myself and for thousands of others. Wow.


‘Invisible Octopus’ Poem


Over the months I created images depicting my life: the good, the bad, the challenging, and the beautiful. I also edited the poem under the guidance of poet Dolores Ronayne. This poem was initially written to function as narration for the film script. The film was not going to be made as intended. I simply couldn’t do it. Even with help it was an impossible task beyond my body and mental capabilities.  But the poem could work as a stand alone piece....


Working on it and sharing abstracts I realised the poem had power. In combination with a selection of shadow images it became a force beyond any of my previous work. In an unintended twist I created a short  Invisible Octopus Video-poem I had a voice recording of my poem - I had 12 images chosen for the exhibition - and suddenly, in ten minutes I had a video poem...


It took persuasion from friends to release it into the world. As I really had wanted to make this a perfect animated poem one day. But had struggled to do so. This could take a year, or more. The poem - the Octopus - wasn’t going to wait for that.


And I came to accept that the way this 2.12 minute film came about is a much more realistic representation of my reality. My life isn’t polished and perfect. It is raw and challenging. I am immensely grateful for the worldwide responses it received and continues to receive. 


Exhibition 


Last year I was offered an exhibition at the Blackwater Valley Arts Centre to highlight the power of art during illness. I accepted. But since have tried various times to cancel this opportunity. (Deep sigh while I write this). I had suggested a few months ago to offer it to fellow artist Anna Moore who also creates from the experience of illness. Done! But she suggested to do a shared show. ‘Ok.’


I thought it to be a great idea and felt there was little for me to do. I was wrong. An exhibition still requires me to write, and think, and sort, and plan, and do more than I really am capable of doing. For all the help I ask, buy and receive, nobody can be my brain... 


What a learning curve. 


Thinking about the exhibition brought a huge sense of unease. After a lot of scribbling about it in my private dairy, I realised that most of this unease was because I had to create an exhibition in a world I was no longer part of...

Ouch.




Alien world 


The world beyond my home and garden is a place I now so rarely inhibit. I am pretty much housebound. The world I am comfortable in and can navigate is that inside my home with the support of my carers/PA, and in cyberspace which I can visit in my own time. Having to think about the practicalities of an exhibition in a town half an hour away from here, in a space I have never seen, became something my brain could not comprehend. No matter how much my co-exhibitor does, there are still decisions I had to make. The logistic eluded me.


I had anticipated to just show older work based on Into the Light. Easy.  But people were commenting on how they would one day like to see an exhibition of my shadow images...  So I followed through on that. But, to be able to make my simple imagery taken on my phone suitable for printing required work I could no longer do. I decided to employ the skills of graphic designer Red Heaven Design. But even with that I still needed to make decisions on what, how, where, text, scale, quantity, etc etc etc. 


Together we created a limited edition of 100 accordion/concertina style poem booklets, a limited edition of 12,  A4 prints - to be shown framed at the exhibition, and available as unframed prints from my website. As well as a series of A5 postcards also from the same 12 images, with poem abstracts at the back. There will also be a large A1 print of the poem at the show. The poem publication was supported by an Artlinks Bursary.


The final visual edits were shared with me while I was very ill in bed. All a very surreal experience. 


Last exhibition of my work 


So, I have decided and gratefully accepted that this is my last involvement (at this scale) in an exhibition in a public space. I can not do this. Although you might say: ‘You did it’. Indeed. But it is all more that I can chew at present. I accept that my world is changing. I am ok with that. It is a simpler world in which I am comfortable. Because I feel this my last exhibition, I wanted my work to be shown in the best possible way.


I joked to a friend the other day ‘if people want to own a piece of my work they better buy something soon as this is the last exhibition’. He thought it to be a good tagline.


So, if you like to own my work please visit our exhibition in Fermoy, Co. Cork which is on from the 4th October till the 29th November, or visit the webpage for further details:  Ribbon of Light Exhibition


I do hope to see the work on display for myself before the first hour of opening. This is made possible by the kindness of my amazing carer/PA and a dear friend. If I get there we will make a little film. 


Full circle


A few days ago these words escaped my mind and mouth: “with Invisible Octopus my work is now complete.”

I can with all certainty say that this does not mean I will stop creating - I can’t - but all my 22 years of creative work to explore and explain my life with M.E. culminated to this very moment. I will continue to share my creative explorations via social media platforms, for sure.


Many, many thanks to all of you for continuing to join me on this incredible unplanned journey.