I tell a story about her, and she is me.
When we tell a story about our past selves, we are in fact telling a story about another person. And we, the one telling it, are quite different than that person.
The Story Doesn’t End
CBAW had our Memorial Day observation reading yesterday. Ten veterans/service members, many of whom I met during very very difficult times in their lives, came together to perform and hold space for the particular grief that is especially tied to the camaraderie of military service. During the month of May CBAW’s visual art programs were dedicated to a collaborative art project of remembrance for Memorial Day. Designed by Joe Merritt and Ashy Palliparambil and assembled and marketed by CBAW’s own Rob Haney, nineteen artists contributed tiles. You can buy a print here.
the shadow is
From The Wild Unknown Archetypes Guidebook by Kim Kearns:
“We often think that The Shadow can be purified, illuminated, and made right through effort and achievement. However, it is typically the case that our lofty pursuit of ascension and perfection is the very source material of the shadow itself.”
Inside & Meanwhile
Prompt from last week’s workshop. Trying not to be too precious about this shit. To be a writer is to make some messy sentences.
How do you pray?
The leaves have opened completely outside my window, and my neighbor’s honeysuckle bush expands over my deck, a little more each year, though he leans over his deck and apologizes and trims it. The first summer we lived here I think I saw a hummingbird come drink from one of the small white flowers, and…
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Here here, everything is fine
The headlines are apocalyptic: the subways flooding, the wind on fire, the heat, the drought. And also: this week I got a pedicure, kissed my son’s cheeks which he tolerates, sat by the pool with my mother and sister ate so much ice cream. I walked IN the river and got up the nerve to…
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These times are no more or less extraordinary than others.
I have been reading Annie Dillard’s ought-to-be-a-classic book For the Time Being very slowly. It’s a book that warrants the rereading of pages. There’s this one passage I’m totally stuck on. I’ve been reading it to everyone–in workshops, over the telephone. The passage calls me again and again. Here it is: There were no formerly…
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When Shall We Tell the Children?
Next Thursday at 6:30 pm, please join me IN PERSON for a writing workshop at the beautiful Strathmore Mansion. Tickets are available here. Today is the last day of national poetry month and I’m doing it up big. In the morning I went to a middle school to meet 12 children (a few quite skeptical)…
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Drinking Water & Paying Attention
First, some business. If you’re in NYC, I’d like to see you tomorrow at 7 pm at McNally Jackson in Williamsburg. It is going to be so much fun and I think you like fun. Am I wrong? Don’t you like fun? Here’s a link. I’ve been reading Kim Dower’s new book of poetry, Sunbathing on Tyrone Power’s Grave,…
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Pulling versus Pushing
A few weeks ago, I mentioned changes were coming. If you are on social media with me or on CBAW’s mailing list, you’ve likely already seen it. If not, here’s a link to the announcement. It was difficult to write, and doesn’t contain the images that are etched in my memory about this long beautiful…
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