I am deep in some poems, though not as deep as I’d like to be (or rather, I have to come up for air and work and coffee and friendship and such). I’m reading and rereading Diving into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich and I looked at this amazing piece of artwork (above) up close…
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My sons don’t know a world without 9/11. There will soon be adults who have only existed in a post-9/11 world. What a hard place they’ve arrived in. In an interview (read it, she’s so lovely and it shines and shines in this interview) for a series with the Library of Congress, Aracelis Girmay says, I am amazed…
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I’ve been facing inward big time over the past week or so. Sleeping more than usual, emailing/texting the bare minimum. I’m not ghosting you, I’m just weird and purposeful right now, and really present where I am. I have this quote by Romare Bearden written on a piece of watercolor paper that leans inside my…
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1. I am writing this post from a blanket on the grass at soccer practice. Soccer practice has begun, and next week school, and the next week breakdancing. Brown leaves are scattered across the grass, and three white dogs are roughhousing nearby and I’m wearing the most comfortable jeans ever and things almost seem steady.…
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Last week began with a meeting at the US Botanical Garden (where three rare Corpse Flowers are blooming at once–go see them!!!) and ended with the unlikely occurrence of seeing people I have come to love from all these different places come together around a fire. It wasn’t a coincidence that all these people were…
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I’m running around like a ghost with a poem stuck in her throat. I’ve been waking up with fragments of really boring, everyday dreams: germinating seeds to plant, plausible emails from jerks, dreams that aren’t all that distinct from reality. Jeez. Can’t catch a break. Because I don’t want to be the sort of person who writes yoga poems,…
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One of the things I’ve done many times over these years is help people with writing an artist statement. It’s such a daunting thing. Who you are as an artist?!? When you struggle considering yourself an artist in the first place? But also don’t know how to separate that self from the rest of who you…
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Before I left for the week at a writing workshop, I spent a few days with my younger son, taking him for a sleepover at my sister’s and swimming and just being with him. I missed him terribly while I was gone, though I was glad for the time I spent writing. While there, I…
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Before I leave the magic and creative rhythm of last week behind, I want to talk about discipline. There’s no amount of luck or talent that can replace discipline in an artistic practice. And there’s nothing harder to maintain. Because no one really cares if I write or not. No one knows. I could tell…
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I don’t have a whole lot to say right now. Or rather, I do, but I don’t have much time to say it. The wi-fi is spotty (thank goodness) and I’m in Cape Cod for the week trying to write, trying to find a good rhythm for writing that I can take home so that…
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