LIFE OF A POET - POPPY

What a treat I have for you this week, kids. This will be our very first visit to GREECE ! We are zooming from all points of the globe to visit the poet, Poppy, who writes at  Poppy View, in Crete. Poppy is a fantastic photographer, as well, so get ready to enjoy some stunning views of spectacular scenery. And there are a couple of unexpected musical treats as well. This is going to be such a thrill! The plane is touching down. Let's hop off and go sit on Poppy's terrace, abloom with flowers.

​Sizzling hues heat up cool, white facades, Archanes, Crete.

Sherry: Poppy, I cant wait to ask you this: please tell us the story of how a girl from Toronto, Canada, finds herself living in Greece. How long have you lived there?

Poppy: Sherry, firstly thanks so much for the invitation to your wonderful series, and conducting this interview!

This July, it will be 27 years since I came to live on the island. I had just got my B.A in English Literature from the University of Toronto, and my father bought me a ticket to Greece to acquaint me with his side of the family in Athens. It was a graduation gift, and to be honest, it came at just the right time, since I was working at a dead end job, and feeling quite aimless. I had aspirations of becoming an actress, working in advertising and writing sitcoms, and although I had my 8 x 10 glossies, I didn't have the nerve to deliver them to any agents. In hindsight, I realize that was such a silly thing to do, since I didn't have anything to lose, only to gain, but I sabotaged myself with my insecurity!

​My husband and I, shortly after our engagement, 1986.

​Beyond our front gate, Crete Greece.

Shortly after I arrived in Greece, I connected with a friend from Toronto who was going to stay with family in Crete, and she asked me to join her. It was there, in a remote mountain village, where I met my husband. A few conversations and two days later, he proposed. Very romantic, but the truth is, I didn't want to live in Greece. I come from an extremely close knit family, and couldn't bear being away from them on a permanent basis, so my husband agreed to make the move to Toronto. But, he wasn't fond of the long, cold winters, missed being his own boss, and wasn't keen on attending ESL classes. Since I'm bilingual, and don't mind the long, hot summers  we crossed the Atlantic, (something I've done at least 45 times in my life!), to begin our adventure in Crete. 

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A seaside tavern, and the settlement of Spinalonga,
                                   further out to sea. Plaka, Crete.                                         

Views of our valleys; country quilts in the making.

Sherry: This scenery is so spectacular, it is hard for me to concentrate on the interview. We could just look at the photos and it would be enough! Tell us what it feels like to wander through such a beautiful landscape. You are living such an adventure - and love story! I love it!

Poppy: Crete is a beautiful, magical place; it's no wonder Zeus was born here! The island is rich in fertile soil, thus providing much of Europe's fruits and vegetables, as well as a popular holiday destination for its gorgeous beaches, mountainous retreats, 5000 year history, cultural attractions, food and wine, and festivals that celebrate the island's diverse agricultural abundance and traditions. The island is also home to hundreds of churches and many monasteries, and every village, no matter how small, has its own, with several more within its periphery.

​Flaming flowers take centre stage, 

stealing the scene from the stoney and serene.

Snowy splendour, a short walk from home, ​February 2015.

​Ombros Gialos, near Chania, Crete.

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St. Nicholas, the main church in our village.

To be honest, it wasn't a dream of mine to live in Crete, for the reasons I've mentioned above, but I have grown to love this island for its beauty, serenity, and hospitality. Having said that, I do know that at this point in my life, I'd like to split my time between Greece and Canada, since my daughter is now living in Toronto permanently.

We lived in Heraklion, the capital of Crete, for twenty-three years, and I had had enough of the cement jungle, and although I sometimes miss the obvious conveniences that come with living in the city, waking up each morning and opening the bedroom shutters to be greeted by panoramic views, more than makes up for not having a supermarket down the street, or night life nearby. When nature is your backyard, you don't have to go far to be inspired. From the sights and sounds, to the textures and tastes of orchards and olive groves, vineyards and valleys, living among such vitality is pure satisfaction for the senses.

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​                                         Mountain ranges from our rooftop terrace.

Sparkling seaside retreats, 
just minutes from the mountains.

Sherry: It is soul-satisfying, when nature is your backyard. Paint us a picture of the poet at home, Poppy.

Poppy: I've been married for twenty-seven years, and have one daughter. When I was newly married, I had just started a job with the Toronto Sun, in its advertising department, with the intention of writing movie reviews and interviewing celebrities, somewhere down the line. Since then, my main source of income has been from teaching ESL, mostly as a private tutor, here on the island, as there is always a great demand for the language. I also had my own radio show one year, was a copywriter for a local television station another, and taught drama classes in the English speaking community.

Music is another love of mine, and I have sung with community choirs as well as professionally. I love the moody vitality of classical jazz, the subtle vibe of mellow, contemporary jazz, as well as the theatrical quality of Broadway musicals. I've included a song written by Norah Jones, and one by Cole Porter, to give you a taste of my love for these two genres. They are recordings of live performances from a summer singing engagement at a luxury resort, here on the island.

                                    

  'Nightingale'

Sherry: What a TREAT this is, Poppy! You are very talented!

​A jazz repertoire was perfect for the resort's waterfront location.

'Let's Do It, Let's Fall In Love'

(The link will take you to the sound byte)

Poppy: I used to be part of a trio. Nicholas, the young man who is singing the duet with me, was a drama student of mine at the time. Anna, a dear friend, was our pianist. We were all members of  'Intercanto', an international community choir in the city, and together, formed the trio. The musical links are recordings of the trio's live performances at the resort pictured.

Sherry: This is wonderful. I feel like I am right there, on the edge of the sea, in that beautiful setting, listening. Tell us a bit about your childhood, Poppy. Have you always written? Is there something back there in your childhood you feel contributed to you becoming a poet?  Was there someone  you feel was a significant influence on your becoming a poet?

Poppy: From the very day I set foot in the classroom, my school years were like a fairy tale; I had so much fun! My very first memory of poetry is a sweet and comforting one, and it is still very clear in my middle-aged mind! I remember nursery rhymes being read to us in kindergarten, and wondering if they were songs without music, as their lyrical character impressed me. Perhaps it was the setting, too, which added to the intrigue; we would be seated on the floor, cross-legged, our soft-spoken teacher perched on a little, child sized chair, and huddled all together, with our complimentary milk and cookies, we would become hypnotized by the lullaby of the rhymes, as we blissfully escaped into the whimsical illustrations of personified eggs in predicaments, and babies swinging from tree tops. 

It goes without saying, that the suspense of these tiny tales, amplified by our teacher's animated expression, was even more captivating than the chocolate biscuits, which would end up melting in our hands many times, since we'd forget all about them, our mouths too busy gasping in awe at each turn of those poetic plots!

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Patches of olive groves provide 
endless inspiration on my walks.

A sacred place in the mountains: 
Vosakou Monastery, Rethymno, Crete.

In primary school, I started writing short stories and little plays, and I remember asking my sweet grade four teacher, Mr. Smith, if I could cast my classmates in a play I had just written about an earthquake! Of course, he was delighted, and we worked on it during recesses and after school. I was smitten with on-stage  storytelling, and that's also about the time I realized that I wanted to get into acting and singing, which I actually managed to do, auditioning for the Drama Program at the University of Toronto. After the first year, I decided to switch gears and majors, and began working towards my degree in English Literature, figuring that at least I could teach with the latter, since the former required more luck than talent, or so I thought, at the time.

​Vineyards with an autumn vibe, 
reminiscent of my beloved maples back home.

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During my final year of secondary school, we were introduced to T.S. Eliot, and I remember the dark drama of 'The Hollow Men'; oh, how engrossed and fascinated I was by that poem, so different from the reactions I had to Robert Frost's works, another favourite of mine, studied later, in university. Frost's relationship with nature had a profound impact on me, a city girl.

But, once again, it was in Mr. Smith's class that we were given our very first poem to memorize and recite: It Couldn't Be Done, by Edgar Guest. It is this poem, (which I can still recite today!), that I believe influenced my style, growing up.

And finally, last year, I fell in love with the brilliant Billy Collins, the 'most popular poet in America', whose wonderfully witty personality and unique observational skills are showcased in his works. I can still recall the moment we 'met', when my heart skipped a few beats: it was on YouTube, a 'Ted Talks' video of a presentation he did, featuring a selection of his poems that had been made into short animated clips. His intimate rapport with the audience, self-deprecating humour, and magnetic stage presence, impressed me, and it was the first time I could connect poetry to performance, which was very appealing to me, considering my love of the theatre. 

Of his poetry, Mr. Collins says, "it's suburban, it’s domestic, it’s middle class, and it’s sort of unashamedly that''. Finding the magic amid the seemingly mundane, is Collins' message, and one which I have received loud and clear. His poems are delightfully entertaining, little lessons in gratitude, for life, and all its glorious whimsy. My daughter gifted me with two of his anthologies for Mother's Day last year, and I reread them every spring as a poetic prelude to summer.

source

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Sherry: A cool preparation for summer! Your  companion blog, Poppyprosodies, is full of poems and glorious photos as well. Do you have different purposes for each blog? 

Poppy: Poppy Prosodies is my second blog, which I developed to exclusively accommodate my poems and their accompanying images. The poems also appear on Poppy View, which is an eclectic mix of decor, gardening, travel, as well as prose and poetry.

A batch of beautiful bays, ​Bali, Crete.

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 Temple of Hephaestus, Ancient Agora, Athens, Greece.

Sherry: Your photography, on both of your blogs, is breathtaking, and you have such a beautiful landscape to work with. When did you get into photography?  

Poppy: Thank you! I started taking pictures for Poppy View in 2012, and I still use my Sony Cyber Shot. It's a Point-and-Shoot, which doesn't allow for those dreamy, blurry backgrounds I yearn for, but my budget calls the 'shots', so to speak, and it dictates that this decade old digital will have to do!

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​Clifftop clips: the island of Dia and the city, 
in the distance.

​Crayola colours cover the walls of this 
public school, in a neigbhouring village.

I've always been a very visual person and am intrigued by details that aren't always easily apparent. I pay attention to people's facial expressions, body language, and signs in their eyes. I am also continuously inspired by the miracles of nature, and could spend hours studying the choreography of a field of buttercups bending in the breeze, the rolling of a wave as it creeps up to shock dry pebbles, or the burst of bold-hued bougainvillea against a white wall of stucco. When one is surrounded by such spectacular subject matter, photography becomes a calling, and you cannot ignore its luring echo.

​Near Anogia, Crete, terrain reminiscent 
of alien territory!

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Monastery of Panagia Pantanassa

​Bermuda buttercups on slopes promise spring, 
despite snowy peaks in the skies.

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Sherry: Do you have a couple of poems, written by you, you might like to include here? Would you tell us a bit about each of them?

Poppy: The first, 'What the Tide Replied', is a poem I wrote after spending an afternoon listening to the waves of the ocean, how they seemed to be responding to questions the wind was whispering above them, every time they rolled on to the shore. The repetition of their movement was hypnotic, and although I had almost fallen asleep and into a kind of dream-like state, I was aware of the tide's rhythm, and listened for answers to things that were occupying my own thoughts at the time.

​What the Tide Replied

Have you ever spoken with the sea

on matters too foggy to foresee?

When your judgment, hazy from emotion

clouded any sighting of clear notion?

And, after friendly offerings of advice,

and a couple of rolls of the 'decision' dice,

neither enticed, convinced, nor sufficed

quite like that of the ocean's?

Flowing and fluid, a miraculous, watery mass

grounding giants of stone in a vast, liquid glass,

its powers of persuasion, 

and the wisdom in its waves,

a sudsy message splashed,

and on the sand engraved,

for me, 
to search and ponder,

 consider and decipher -

hydro hieroglyphics

in a deep, aquatic cave.

The second, 'Door Detour', was based on a collection of photos I took of doors around the village, as well as a few in the city. I pass by them almost every day, and even if I'm in a rush to get somewhere, their wonderfully aged patinas never fail to stop me in my tracks. I thought they deserved a little tribute, and began to compare them to us, and how the aging process can affect our own psychological condition, no matter how 'thick skinned' we may be!

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Door Detour

How many times

have I dashed by

these old, dated doors,

scurrying to escape

the sizzling woes

of insufferable heat?

Other times,

during siesta silence,

I seize the moment

for quiet guidance,

to search for traces,

clues and close-ups,

of faces, fluted, chipped,

 worn out;

cosmetic character flaws, perhaps,

but strong footsteps to solid souls.

Further down the cobblestone,

gates, freshly painted

to look smooth and sleek,

provide a framed perspective,

and an exclusive peek into

a courtyard of potted petals.

All quite charming,
these updated, made-up metals,
 but where's that marked intrigue,
   that lost mystique, so present in
 their wrinkled, weathered elders: 

the wooden, but charred,
the hollow, scarred, and marred,
 the mossy, crooked and ajar?

The last of these gems,
 en route to my own residence,
bordered by a grove stacked
with bitter, black fruit,

a stony structure stands
 sound and solitaire, despite

  its broken window and door.

And, although
exposed to elements
unforgiving and unfair,
it bears no evidence
in its stoic air, of a
 core, torn or dishonoured.

​A cobblestone street 
in the Old Town, Rethymno, Crete.

Sherry: They are both imbued with the beauty of your surroundings, Poppy. Thank you.  Tell us about your other interests. I see on your blog that you have many, under the banner of the arts. 

Poppy: Well, aside from the ones that I've already mentioned, there are those I refer to as the 'edible' pastimes - cooking, baking, and gardening, although the last of these I am still quite new at, my husband doing the hard work of digging the soil, planting vegetables, tending to them, and harvesting them, while for me it's mostly all play, since I am responsible only for my flowers, watering them, pruning them, and enjoying their gifts of fragrance and beauty.

Potted petals on our patio.

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Sherry: How did you come to the world of blogging and how has it impacted your work?

Poppy: When we were building our home, I was researching decorating sites that were spinoffs of their magazines, and one day, while in Google images, I happened to spot a picture that captured my attention and my heart; it was from a blog called 'Dear Daisy Cottage'. Well, I think I must have read the entire blog, from start to finish, in two days - I was mesmerized! And, to think that there were thousands of other blogs out there! Well, for someone who has a passion for decorating, it was just too good to be true! 

About a year later, we moved into our home in the country, and I thought readers would enjoy puttering around my place, and so on May 18th, 2012, (my daughter's 23rd birthday), Poppy View made its debut in the great big blogosphere!

​Crockery and bric-a-brac displayed on our credenza.

​My aunt's stone cottage; 
a decorating project of mine.

Both Poppy View and Poppy Prosodies challenge me to create, which is very, very important in my life. Living in such a landscape, there is a plethora of natural beauty, all gorgeous subject matter for a budding photographer. I snap my surroundings, then upload and study the images until a few ideas pop into my head about how I can base an article, poem, or certain thoughts on a particular batch, and before I know it, I have a post in the making. This May I will have been blogging for three years, and in that time, I have met so many wonderfully talented and sweet people, many of whom I now call friends, since we have regular correspondence via email. Although we've never physically met, we are there for one another, in good times and in bad, always ready to listen, and be heard, and ultimately, to be understood.

​A derelict dwelling, but a lighthouse 
for locals, coming into dock.

 Clusters of red flowers, 
have carte blanche on empty walls.

Sherry: How did you stumble upon Poets United? (We are so happy that you did!)

Poppy: Actually, it was quite intentional; I googled 'poetry blogs', since I was looking for a venue where I could connect with other poets, to exchange ideas, and read other people's work, and Poets United showed up near the top of the page! Although I was quite nervous about linking up my first poem, I was also very excited, and instantly felt at home, after reading the 'Staff/Contributor's' page, which is very welcoming.

A peaceful and pretty countryside: olive groves, 

citrus orchards, and vineyards, all huddled together, 

a little church nestled among them, 

and the mountains in the distance.

​A pretty courtyard in Archanes, Crete.

Sherry: We are very glad you wandered in, Poppy. In closing, is there anything you’d like to say to our members?

Poppy: I am so thankful for everyone who is connected with Poet's United, from the administrative staff to the members. Even though I consider myself a newbie, everyone has been very gracious in making me feel welcome. It is truly an inspiring place, with many wonderful series during the week, in which I hope to start participating, as soon as time allows. I have enjoyed reading everyone's poems on Poetry Pantry, and have already learned so much from those that are inspired by certain historical or recent events. Others, I read over and over again for many reasons, but mainly because their style appeals to my senses, or my mood at the time! Many thanks also for visiting Poppy View and Poppy Prosodies, and for all the great feedback on my poems.

Thank you, Sherry, for thinking of me, and giving me the chance to introduce myself to all the members of Poet's United. I had so much fun!

Sherry: I think you can tell I had a wonderful time, too. And I know our members will drool over your photos and your romantic lifestyle. Thank you for allowing us in so generously. We look forward to enjoying much more of your work in the months ahead.

Wasn't this a spectacular visit, kids? I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Do come back to see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!