My Giants Win the World Series - but still....

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. - Bart Giamatti

Willow Manor Ball 2012

I'm dressed - anyone know the way to Willow Manor?

The Worst Enemy to Creativity

"And By the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." - Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath 80 years later-

Today is the birthday of Sylvia Plath. Plath is perhaps one of the first poet that caught my attention in such a way to interest me in poetry as an avocation. There were poets who I found interesting prior to Plath (Frost for example comes to my mind) but it was Plath that first really spoke to me about the power of language in such a way that I wanted to experience first hand that rich trans-formative process that occurs when one's mind and soul battle in an inner discourse to find the right words for the page.

Ted Hughes once said (and I'm paraphrasing here) that he believes she never failed to finish a poem. She may have started with one idea and ended up somewhere else entirely (who hasn't) but she was seriously driven to by her writing. From biographies and her own journals I know that she was constantly alert to the world around her for - looking for material for her next poem.  I believe this was very much a part of her brilliance. I would say that she lived a poet's life; always a poet in the moment. I believe this is one positive  lesson that writers can take from Sylvia's life.

Imagine-

"There was a time
only certainty gave me
any joy. Imagine -
certainty, a dead thing ."

Louise Gluck  -  Ripe Peach - from The Seven Ages winner of the Bollingen Prize 

Orange October

Hofstra Debate

There we were captives
caught in the vice of heated debate
over our future -

Two grown men-
more or less- and Candy
Crowley in a smack down.

If I even considered going for the frig
or my singing bladder
that all ended in spontaneous intrigue

as Mitt's secret weapon was unveiled
to millions of Americans.  Take that Mr. President!
Do you have binders of women?

Confession Tuesday - Loitering Edition

Dear Reader:

It's Tuesday and I'm going to pull over and quickly unload my confession. It's been one week and I don't exactly know where this is going but I hope I'm not going to be impound.

I confess that I will be one of those watching the Presidential Debate tonight. I also confess that I am not among the undecided. There probably isn't much either candidate could do to change my mind at this point. These two candidates are going to govern from such opposing philosophical views that the decision is not even a close one. I could talk about those and maybe I will between now and the election but I'd rather keep politics out of the confessional. ;)

I've been working with a writing coach for the past three weeks now.  While I've been putting in more writing time it occurred that I have been journaling less. I confess I don't know if this is good or bad. It's at least good that I'm writing more.

My phone has been giving me fits lately. It's a Blackberry and I've had it for quite some time. I've gotten a lot of good out of it but I have actually thought that wen I replace it I might try an iPhone  I confess I've never been excited about iPhone  There is no craze here. One of the few things that I dislike about my Blackberry is that I can't use Instagram.  But there are other options I know. In fact my daughter Meghan switched to a Galaxy III and I admit I've watched a lot of commercial feeds on this phone and quite frankly it's awesome. I confess that I don't care for the thickness of it. It seems perilously fragile but then the iPhone seems that way too.

My Giants were awesome in the Red's series. After falling behind 2 games to none at home they traveled to Cincinnati and needing to will three in a row they did just that. I confess I believe they can take the Cardinals and win the NLCS. This team has a lot of young talent that just doesn't ever stop believing. They are split a game each as they move the St Louis to play game three tomorrow.

Well, it's about time for the debate and I haven't been ticketed and towed yet so I gonna split.

The Mag: Paranormal

Midnight Snack - Curtis Wilson Coast - 1984

The stomach pings

which I ignore. I can

stumble over time 
lost in quiet darkness.
But when the growl comes
heat engulfs the region;
I sit up in flames of hunger.
The body answers 
where the mind holds back.
A light switch finds my hand.
The kitchen acknowledges me
but I will wake in the morning
and know nothing of this.



Michael A. Wells


The Mag 139

A Star!

After a couple days of rain and overcast skies our closest star the Sun has been located. This is of comfort.

The air remains a bit chilled. I can handle this, but I probably won't spend much time in the outdoors anyway. I should (heavy emphasis) get in a walk today. I will try to make time for it. 

As winter is coming I'd like to get our treadmill upstairs and in working order. It's belt has moved cattywampus. I need to be walking at lest three times a week and eliminating anything that creates an obstacle would of course be beneficial. 

I've been writing a lot more. Or at least more focused writing. I've actually been journaling less as a result of concentrating on the more creative.  Speaking of focus, I need to get busy because I've got a number if things I need to accomplish today and there is the Giants playoff that I will have to squeeze in as well. Sunday's always have a sadness about the finality of the weekend. How to I make that go away? 

Confession Tuesday

Dear Reader:  It's been one week since my last confession. A week that saw me hall all the plants inside as the temperatures dropped.

This past week I got a lot of writing done. Over 7 hours and that's actual writing and re-writing drafts... not including journaling or blogging stuff. I confess that I had distractions to deal with but I meet them and worked through. (insert pat on back)  I actually did feel frustrated at times so maybe the pat isn't deserved, but then I did surpass the previous week's writing.

I've decided that I need an art date really soon.  I saw a quote the other day that really hit home with me. I'm sorry to say at the moment I cannot recall the person to give proper credit to but I will try and find it later. For now I'm paraphrasing it... Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. I confess that disturbed rather then comfortable seemed to describe me much of this past week. So I'm feeling especially needy of an art date. I'm pretty certain that it would not hurt my writing one bit.

I am sort us upping the ante on my writing for the rest of the year. I confess that I am in a driven sort of energy mode and I want to keep it up because the fall and winter time of the year are generally tough on my emotions. I'm hopeful that I can channel that into more positive successes in my writing by staying committed and being more focused.

There you have it. Everyone go in peace and I'll be back next Tuesday with another round of confessions. I promise!

Your Brain on Jane Austen

Fascinating NPR story on the question,"If neuroscience could inform literature, could literature inform neuroscience?"  It was found that close reading activated unexpected areas: parts of the brain that are involved in movement and touch. It was as though readers were physically placing themselves within the story as they analyzed it. The whole NPR story HERE.

Emily Dickinson Poetry to Music

My initial sampling of this was I thought spot on as far as tone and delivery. It's an interesting artistic collaboration and it makes me wonder what Emily might think of it all. The songs are the work of Israeli singer-songwriter Efrat Ben Zur. Check it out on BRAINPICKING

Writing and Family Response

HOW TO HELP FRIENDS AND FAMILY UNDERSTAND YOUR WRITING...

I saw this and it stood out like flickering neon. So, naturally I was drawn to read it. [FULL INTERVIEW HERE] The bonus was it's an interview with a poet whose work I greatly admire. 

Mary Biddinger tackles the anxiety that many poet have over family response. I'm not talking about criticism of the quality of one's writing - that could be another whole blog post.  Biddinger talks about the tendency to view what poets have written as autobiographical which can often lead to family and friends reading the poet into the poem literally or perhaps thinking they have been drug into the poem too. Hurt feelings, uncomfortable assumptions. Things less likely to plague an aspiring fiction writer then poet. 

Mary has notion as to what is partly to blame for this problem. It's also interesting to hear her perspective on all of this because she is teaches literature and poetry writing on a University level so she has experienced students who deal with this kind of anxiety but also has the personal contrast of growing up in an art rich family environment that understands the connection of artist to art. 

It's an interesting read. Speaking of which I can't wait to read her next volume of poetry due out this month titled O Holy Insurgency.

Mary Biddinger - Wikipedia 

Mary Biddinger Dot Com

Confession Tuesday - Goose Egg Edition

Dear Readers: It’s been one house color change, one closet clean-out, one crawl space clean-out, one week of writing with another poet’s coaching, another week of Mod Po class and one poem acceptance for publication since my last confession.

 Let’s head to the confessional, shall we? 

Ah, much is going on. In addition to all this there is my day job which has been demanding as usual. I confess that many days it is noon or one o’clock before I realize it. This is usually a pretty good thing because the work can at times seem long and intense. I always appreciate it when I realize that I’m already on the downhill slope to quitting time.

 We are painting our home. Or having it painted is more precise since I’m not dancing on a ladder and flailing my arms about trying not to fall and break my neck or other body parts. I came home last night to see the color for the first time, at least the base color. I confess that I had no idea what color it would be. We have known the painter for years. He did the last painting some 10 years ago. Then we close the colors. We had to budget this since we also needed to do some repairs and keep within budget. We were told that leaving some flexibility would allow the painter to get us a better deal on the price of the paint. Of course that required some degree of trust. What I saw last night I liked.

There has been a lot of activity at home this past week, movement both inside and outside the house. Not the most conducive environment for creative work. I confess that I've fared relatively well all things considered. While not painting, I've done a lot of stuff on the inside of the house. Some others have been more busy then I but all the while there has been commotion. I confess I would love a week of normalcy if such a thing exists. Oh wait… the commotion has been normalcy for us. (Sigh)

I went to listen to a friend of mine read at the Writers Place on Friday. I confess I had not seen Amy in quite a while. It was nice to catch up with her. She is an awesome poet and sometimes when I’m looking to jump-start myself when I’m at a wall in my writing there are several poets that I like to keep a copy of their work close at hand because if I read a poem or two it always reminds me of what’s possible. Amy is one of these poets. Sometime soon I’ll do a special post on poets who inspire me.

I confess that I have NOTHING out in the world being considered. How this happened I don’t know. I cannot ever recall a time since I began submitting work years ago that I had nothing under consideration. I usually get a rejection or an acceptance and have several others pending and promptly shoot work off elsewhere. Getting an acceptance over the weekend I updated my submission tracker and realized with this acceptance I had no more outstanding submissions I was waiting on. I confess this feels like a major lapse. Like you missed an important payment or something… How could this happen? Well I shall get at least one off tonight. I won’t feel right if I don’t.

Journal Bits Week of Sept 24, 2012

Bits of journal entries from the past week.

• Tree branches sway to the choreography of the breeze. 
• My weakness if we must go there/is black walnut ice cream./Black walnut, I love you more than bacon!
• Heavy lines drooped from pole to pole/eventually tied off at buildings/like circus elephants on moorings.
• If I write myself into a poem I don't like will I be able to get out?
• Planted roasted marshmallows in our mouths, then kissed the sticky off each others lips.
• Holding time inappropriately in ones hand.
• I'm tired and feel horribly grungy today...
• Picturing poets playing poker with metaphorical faces. 

Good News....

I like good news... it's the best kind.  Clear out of the blue yesterday I was scrolling down my e-mail on my Blackberry and realized a acceptance e-mail had arrived earlier in the day that I missed. Another poem finds a home. Yeah!

Saturday Morning Sigh...

After a work week that was grueling I'd like to say that I'm looking forward to this weekend but there is this thing called time and there is so much to do.

For a short (I mean very short) while it seems I was getting away from the stranglehold that time and death seem to have had on me for most of my adult life. I feel it creeping back into the picture again. It's not a good way to live...

Confession Tuesday - Paranoia, Writing, Baseball and No Baseball

Dear Readers-

It’s been one week and a doctor’s visit since my last confession. Let’s move to the box.

I confess to a bit of paranoia associated with both my upcoming flu shot scheduled for October 10 and the coughing, congested sinus thing I had going on this weekend.  Why, you ask? Okay, you didn’t but I’m going to tell you anyway. Last year I got a flu shot, just as I have for many years now.  But last year I actually contracted the flu a couple months later.  I was hit hard by this. It was one of the more memorable times I’ve been ill not so much because it was the most recent but because I felt like hell in many ways. We are talking both Flu and pneumonia.  Besides, it came on the heels of two other periods of sickness. I was weak, sore chest, feverish, headache, had a chaotic cough and had trouble breathing. So all this is to say I’m over obsessing about that period when I looked and felt like hell.

Yesterday, I began a six week writing session. I’m working with another poet (this will be the third time in four years I’ve done this) and I confess I always find it both stimulating and a little prone to anxiety. I always seem to get past the anxiety though and quite frankly it’s self-inflicted. I think every writer should do this once a year no matter how long they have been writing.  I recommend you find someone for starters whose work you really respect. I think it helps too if you know something about that person’s work ethic. I sometimes have multi objectives but the major one is always force myself outside the comfort zone.  If your writing is always comfortable how interesting can it be?

I’m excited about fall ball again this year. My San Francisco Giants have won the western division championship once again. I confess that I know they probably don’t have the best talent overall on their team, but they do have talented players and their secret I feel is that this team has real chemistry.  When they went all the way to the World Series in 2010 and won it was good pitching, good defense and out of this world team chemistry.

And now for my disclaimer for the time of year. It’s coming up on SAD time.  I confess that my family doesn’t buy the whole SAD thing. They don’t see it as Seasonal Affective Disorder but rather Seasonal Adjustment Disorder. They believe it is not about less sunlight and more about baseball, or the lack thereof. So to them SAD represents that time when baseball is gone from my life. When it returns in spring, I’m all happy again. Sure, I’ll admit I’m a happier and more amicable person during baseball season as a general rule, but I don’t think it’s that simple. 

Confession Tuesday - Backhoe Edition

It's been a week since my last confession. A cooler week and I got a haircut and mowed the grass in the same week. The weather being what it's been it had been longer between yard mows then haircuts... I think.

Come along, it's confession time and I'm sure I have something I can confess.

Dear Reader:

Yesterday I was driving through the city when I pulled up behind two other cars at a stop light. Hearing the deep sound of gears engaging I saw on the passenger side of the car a big yellow monster taking up the better part of two lanes between myself and the curb. Said yellow monster was backing my direction while on the front end it was lifting a heavy metal plate from the asphalt. All of this was under the direction of a man who was talking on a cell phone in the drivers seat. I confess that my Capricorn sensibility cause me to utter out loud WTF is this dumb shit doing? Neither I our our car was harmed in the incident. All I can say today looking back was thank God he wasn't texting. People - this does not seem like a multi-tasking sort of job. As I drove away I said a prayer that no bad incidents occurred the rest of the day at this work site.

Monday night is one night where we especially enjoy the TV shows. Major Crimes and Perception being two shows we watch. It's a night Cathy (my wife) looks forward to watching TV. So last night was a most inopportune time for our cable to crash but it did.  Now I could I could see how some people could say make the best of it and do something like... read a good book. I confess I did not do that. I too look forward to Monday night TV not only because of the shows but because it's something we do together. So last night was a downer for both of us.  I confess we ended up going to bed earlier then normal.  By the way, tech support was unable to again get it running and we remain without it again tonight and it will be tomorrow before the service people can come out.

I probably should confess something related to writing so thinking back this week I guess there are a few things I can touch on about writing. One is that I am excited that  I am about to begin a six week mentoring session with an awesome poet. This will be the third fall I've done this and it is something I really need this fall. Personally I think this is the kind of thing every poet should plan to do once a year. I confess that if I had 6 books published and another one or two waiting in the wings I would think there is value in this. So yes, I confess that I am excited. I'm always a little anxious at the same time because your work is going to be under more scrutiny in the draft form.

Coming upon the last quarter of the year I always try and take an inventory of where I am in my writing. I confess this can be a humbling experience. So I've been thinking a lot about this year a lot these past few weeks.

And last- on an upbeat note of sorts. A rejection letter this week with a positive note,,,  It read in part, "Dear Michael,  thank you for submitting to XXXXX Journal. It was great to see your work in our reading line up again. We have carefully reviewed your submission. Although it was not selected for publication this time in our journal, we wanted to let you know that your poems XXXX and XXXXXX did make it to our final round of readings for their wonderful images and subject matter...."  I confess that if you are going to be rejected, that a pretty decent rejection.