“My Mother’s Colander” by Dorianne Laux

~ jama
“Christmas Morning” by June Webster (oil on canvas).
MY MOTHER'S COLANDER
by Dorianne Laux

Holes in the shape of stars
punched in gray tin, dented,
cheap, beaten by each
of her children with a wooden spoon.

Noodle catcher, spaghetti stopper,
pouring cloudy rain into the sink,
swirling counter clockwise
down the drain, starch slime
on the backside, caught
in the piercings.

Scrubbed for sixty years, packed
and unpacked, the baby’s
helmet during the cold war,
a sinking ship in the bathtub,
little boat of holes.

Dirt scooped in with a plastic
shovel, sifted to make cakes
and castles. Wrestled
from each other’s hands,
its tin feet bent and re-bent.

Bowl daylight fell through
onto freckled faces, noon stars
on the pavement, the universe
we circled aiming jagged stones,
rung bells it caught and held.

~ from Only As the Day is Long: New and Selected Poems (W.W. Norton & Co., 2019)
“Morning Light” by June Webster (oil on canvas).

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“Cortland, Cabbage, Colander and Cucumber” by June Webster (oil on canvas).

I love poems celebrating everyday objects, especially if they’re kitchen utensils. Colanders are quite interesting, as they retain and release at the same time.

Laux has done a beautiful job of describing this family heirloom, of listing the various creative ways the colander was used through the years. Perhaps the memories she shares — those she held onto the most — were rinsed of their “cloudy rain” and “starch slime” to shine and sparkle anew through the artistry of her mind’s eye.

“Colander with Pears” by June Webster (oil on canvas).

The final stanza is sensory perfection: the visual beauty of filtered light + the aural resonance of those “jagged stones.” I love the immediacy of those details, how the poem ends with its own brand of magic.

After reading the poem, I was happy to chance upon Connecticut artist June Webster’s “Colander Series.” She purchased her tin colander at a tag sale, and liked setting up her still lifes outdoors “to capture the strong light and shadow effects created by the sun.” Much like Laux, she was taken with the reflective qualities of the colander and the patterns created by the star-shaped holes.

“Complimentary Colander” by June Webster (oil on canvas).

So, an ordinary tin colander held fascination and inspiration for both poet and painter. This made me think about the moments we keep, how we filter, and what’s lost through the strainer each and every day.

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⭐️ ⭐️⭐️ JUST FOR FUN ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

via My Brown Newfies

Fun Fact: Did you know you can use a colander to safely observe a solar eclipse? Read about it here.

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Lovely and talented Tabatha Yeatts is hosting the Roundup at The Opposite of Indifference. Zip on over to check out the full menu of poetic goodness being served up around the blogosphere this week. Enjoy your weekend!

*Copyright © 2024 Jama Rattigan of Jama’s Alphabet Soup. All rights reserved.

42 thoughts on ““My Mother’s Colander” by Dorianne Laux”

  1. I did NOT know I could use a colander to safely observe a solar eclipse. Huh! My mother had this same model –and the memories stirred up by this post are MANY! I love the paintings with star shaped shadows. I now want to look around for an ordinary item to write about. The way Laux elevates the common colander is inspiring.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I didn’t know about the solar eclipse thing either — amazing what you can discover looking for images on the internet. 🙂 I think my grandmother had a similar colander too.

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  4. Gosh I love this fit so it’s memories and celebrated joy. Esp

    Bowl daylight fell through
    onto freckled faces, noon stars

    can’t wait to read about using it for the eclipse! I’ll be in Austin in April and it could be way more fun than those funny glasses.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Mine is long gone, Jama, now I have a plastic one, sad to say, and not even my grandchildren play with it! This brings the memories for sure and I love the art along with your extra pics. What a gem of a post! No stories drained!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Good afternoon. I love this celebration of the ordinary. I also did not know that you can observe a solar eclipse with a colander! I have one that my mom bought me in 1975 when I got married. It’s tin and I use it to strain pasta! Almost 50 years old in January! Enjoy your weekend.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. What a perfect pairing, Laux and Webster! I could use a Webster in my kitchen. I love how many uses Laux describes for the “little boat of holes,” even though it was cheaply made. ❤

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  10. These are the considerations I love, how the daily implements, even those full of holes like a colander, hold our precious memories. Thanks for this, Jama.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Laux’s poem is so immersive and evocative. I could see all the colander in all of the scenes described in the poem. And June Webster’s paintings pair perfectly with the poem! Thanks for sharing both of their work with us today.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. The artwork as always makes the poem even better. I have a battered vintage colander like this, and I originally purchased it to do something artsy for kitchen decor, then ended up using it – because though I have others, there’s something about this kind that has followed American homemakers for years, and I’m glad I have it. I love how the poem takes this ordinary, loved item and makes it… art.

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    1. Yet another person with the same colander. It’s really uncanny. I’m happy that these vintage pieces are still being used in favor of shinier, sleeker models. . .

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  14. I love the detail in Laux’s meditation on the useful colander and images such as “noon stars.” Thanks also for sharing so much amazing artwork! I always am amazed when I see what you have gathered together in your posts!

    Liked by 1 person

  15. I, too, love poems about ordinary things. This colander has been elevated by Laux to a thing of admiration and love. Your found images and photos just delight me even more. Recently a friend said, “My brain is like a colander.”

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    1. I’ve never read the same poem every day for an entire month. It would be an interesting exercise — to see how one’s perception and interpretation changes from day to day.

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  17. I love this celebration of the seemingly banal colander and the revelation of its many facets. The art and your thoughts (how strainers release and retain) are the perfect accompaniments. I’m going to be looking at items in my kitchen a bit more carefully now. Thanks to you, Laux, and Webster for that!

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  18. I love that cloudy rain! And your reflection on “This made me think about the moments we keep, how we filter, and what’s lost through the strainer each and every day.” And…we had this strainer when I was growing up! Thank you, Jama ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  21. I LOVE this. Webster’s many takes on the colander are as beautiful and interesting as Laux’s poem.

    I’m just beginning to get through this week’s PF posts and I feel a list of prompts forming:

    Write a poem about what Scheherazade is thinking

    Write a poem about an everyday kitchen object

    Thanks, Jama!

    Liked by 1 person

  22. Your words about how colanders “retain and release at the same time” – much like poetry, no? Thanks once again for open our eyes to what is always there, Jama. My mom’s colander didn’t have a star design or any fancy patterned holes, just pure practicality…much like her. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

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