Fools Gold?

Wine anyone? At left is a snapshot of a portion of an art piece that was done the the top raps of wine bottles the cover the corks. A gripping piece of art work my daughter and I saw yesterday. When I first saw it from a distance I had no idea what the medium was but it locked on me like a heat seeking missile and we were inseparable at that point. I had to see it up close.

The brilliance reminded me of fools gold. Sort of chunky and multi layered in texture. I wanted to bring it home though it would have taken a massive wall to display it on.

We saw a number of exhibits - many old black and white photos - lot of them civil war era. I am continually impressed with what a talented photo artist can do with black and white.

There were some civil war battle photos. I was remarking to my wife how gory they were when Meghan (daughter) took issue with the gore description. And she was right. They were certainly not gory by cinema or even news standards today, but they were disturbing none the less in a very real way.

While there was not the blood and or mutilation we often equate with gore, many were battlefield shots taken the day after a battle. The stiff and sometimes bloated bodies would have configurations of limbs that suggested that many were left dying - scattered about the landscape perhaps for hours in pain, or one reaching for another nearby in life and frozen in that reach to their final ounce of remaining life was gone. It was perhaps more properly a morbidity than gore.

Today we took Meghan to Christopher Elbows Chocolate to celebrate her birthday. You want decadence? Try it. There is supposed to be one opening in San Francisco for you out west.

A Few Thoughts this Thursday Night

After a very intense day at work I came home, had dinner, watched a bit of TV and had a glass of wine and now have sit down to collect my thoughts.

The assassination of Benazir Bhutto is heavy on my mind. I suppose in part, because I always find political assassination to be particularly distasteful. It is so contrary to the order of society and political discourse. Another reason I think it hits home with me is that I have been thinking a lot lately about the role of arts in society the past few days and how democratic nations where free speech is tolerated is a place where arts should by all rights flourish and those nations that are controlled by a strong government of censorship and repression of ideas should be free of such artistic expression.

I look at China and Burma for example and am amazed at the courage it takes to be an artist outside the control of the government in these places. Still, we see evidence of courageous individuals who risk much under harsh conditions. Then I think how in our own country so many of us sit back and watch quietly as so many elements of our freedom are challenged from within.

The Pakistani people are truly at a critical juncture and it seems obvious there is a very fine line between the existence of a presumed democratic state and a military controlled one and just how tenuous democracy has become there.

It’s funny that political discourse and artistic expression can both provoke strong reactions from people. So here I am tonight, not listening to any music that I can share with you, but instead considering just how much alike the arts and political discourse are. How both need a positive nurturing environment to remain healthy.

The people of Pakistan tonight must surely recognize how delicate the order to their society is.
The rest of us wait, and watch to see how it responds to the challenges it is presented with. What kind of order and society will survive.

Meanwhile, I think about poetry, music, and other fine arts and realize they aren’t just art, but expressions and reflections of who we are. We need to stop treating them as “just” arts, like in the educational process they are less than. Less than science or math or history. They are after all, who we are as a people. When art is restricted, our expressions are muffled. When that happens, freedom and democracy are on the line.

Political assassinations not only kill people, but the expression of ideas. Suppression of the arts
will kill them too.

Looking into the future...

You may not have cracked open your 2008 planner yet, but take note that Oct. 23, 2008 - Charles Simic, current poet laureate of the United States and Pulitzer Prize winner, reads from his work at the Midwest Poets Series on the Rockhurst University Campus. Simic is one of several poets whose work I like to read and reread - especially when I find myself in a writing funk. His work is like a jump start to the creative processes inside my brain.

Happy Holidays

Wishing everyone this holiday season joy ~ peace ~ and safe travel.

Michael Wells

Latest 12 month Update

Pending responses: 16
Submissions sent last 12 months: 46
Submissions sent this month: 8
Acceptance ratio: 15.38 %

Poetry in the News Sunday 12-23-07

The poet Martín Espada on the passing of his friend and mentor Alexander "Sandy" Taylor, co-founder of Curbstone Press.

Literary Giants Lost: Paley,Vonnegut, Halberstam, Mailer
...But Promising Signs For 2008.

This morning from my bedroom I heard rain beating against the windows. Considering the temperature I knew this was not a good thing. Tonight the ball field across the street looks larger then life in massive white.

In the picture above, my bud Barry, maintains a stern view of things.

Started reading Pushkin's Eugene Onegin which my daughter brought home with her from school for the Christmas break. Considering her distaste of poetry I am intrigued that she enjoyed the book so much.

Haven't shared any journal bits for a few days so I'll throw some in this post...

• portions of the night are tattered/comfort estranged/rest could only be a figment of active imagination
• I looked at my left hand/traced the lines deep/into the country side/until I could not recall /how I got there
• strung together, we are popcorn/and cranberries- differences/flashing red lights do not exclude
• night is lax on standards/makes no effort to screen/leaving the door ajar
• there is one non sequitur/that echoes in your head/and loosens the bindings/of Webster's unabridged/joins the others as the new word for the year/the binding restitched all tidy