One of the things I like about social media is the ability to easily connect with others who share your hobbies and interests. I’ve discovered many blackout poets on Instagram. Seeing so many others who share my word-search fascination makes me happy. I enjoy reading their work and seeing their creations.
More than 60,000 people follow Make Blackout Poetry, run by a poet who curates and features some of Instagram’s best from the #blackoutpoetrytribe. Another member of the tribe just started the Instagram group, Blackout Poetry Challenges, and posted their first challenge this week. This is some serious word-nerd fun.
For this challenge, I once again opened my new-ish copy of Elisabeth Tova’s The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating (which I picked up just 10 days ago during Seattle Bookstore Week) to see if anything “home” caught my eye. After a brief search I found it. I wish I’d taken note of the page number before I blacked it out. Here it is:
The “featured picture” I chose is one of my favorites from our travels. We were touring the town of Vernazza, in the Cinque Terra region of Italy. It was stuffed with people, completely stuffed. The narrow streets of this centuries-old village were nearly impassable in some spots because of the number of tourists the cruise ships bring for day trips. (We were on a week’s vacation to celebrate our anniversary. Post coming this month to my blog, Traveling the Pale Blue.)
This picture, of a local woman at home and far above the fray, is one of my favorites. I like to imagine she’s lived in Vernazza all her life. Now that tourists have discovered, and invaded in droves, her home has become her shell. It’s the place where she not only lives her everyday life, but hides out. Everyone in a while she peeks out to see if we’re all there. And we are. She ducked back into her shell moments after I snapped this picture. I think the image is a good partner for this found poem.