AP Interview: Trethewey a 'cheerleader' for poetry

"I didn't think that it had any relevance to my life, the feelings that I endured on a day-to-day basis, until I was introduced to the right poem. And the right poem is a different poem for everyone..."



 Good Interview with Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey.


    Click here for Interview by Associate Press

Confession Tuesday - Fruit Cake Edition

Dear readers:

It's been one week since my last confession. Oh my, another whole week.

But let's get started....

I confess that I love Fruit Cake. I may be the only person in the world who enjoys it but what the heck. Not everyone everyone uses it for door stops. One of my children once asked their mother who someone hate me who had sent me a Fruit Cake. She had to explain to some very bewildered children that their father was not being dissed

Mid November and I confess I have no clue how this happened. This has seemed like one of the fastest years. And yet, I confess that there have been some slow assed days. You physics people out there... how does that happen?

I confess this could be the month I replace my Blackberry with another phone.

I confess I need a haircut. I confess that I hope my wife reads this blog post. Cathy has cut my hair pretty much ever since we've been married.

I've got some writing to do yet tonight and that I'm pretty beat already so I confess I need to move on.

Squall

Squall - Andrew Wyeth - 1986

Gray rolling over swelling blue.

White foam cresting, dropping;

slapping the blue over and over.

The sky darkening quickly

a smokey gray, a dirty dray,

bullet gray and now charcoal.

Winds swirl my hair every which way.
My scalp actually pains under pressure.
Waves whack shoreline rocks repeatedly.

Each tide washes higher- a mist rises over me.
My face wet, my lips taste of salt. 
I lean now with the wind.

The water, darker now
seemingly has swallowed the sky;
the two joined in force- rolling in.




Michael A. Wells

The Mag

Biblio-Mat

A bookstore in Toronto has a novel idea (no pun intended). They have installed a book vending machine.  At Monkey's Paw, for $2 you can take a chance at a book vending machine which dispenses a random used book book.

According to the store owner the response has been positive. Some people feel the random selection as somewhat serendipitous. What do you think?

[source]

Good Days - Bad Days. Finding Happiness

What constitutes a good day to you? I'm not talking about a good day of writing, I'm speaking in more general terms. Of course for a writer a good writing session may well contribute to a overall positive view of your day but there are likely any number of factors that may well contribute to your view of how that day was when the sun goes down.

Late fall and winter are times when I am prone to feel blue. I'm not exactly sure that feeling blue is an automatic bad day. You see there are positive things that can happen on a day when I at a low ebb emotionally.

I have started not long ago to track my days in terms of the degree to which they are good.  I discovered an application on Chrome that I am using both to help define a good day and to track what kind of a day I had.

The application I'm speaking of can be found at illuum.com.

The rating schedule runs from 1 to 9.

• 1- The Worst. You bought the rope but couldn't be bothered to learn how to tie the knot.
• 2- Almost the Worst. You spent the day wondering if you should put your head in the oven or drown in a lake.
• 3 - A Bad Day. It rained, you spilled your coffee, you got yelled at, a dog ate your face, etc.
• 4 - Slightly Below Average. Work Sucked, but there was something good on TV.
• 5 - Average. At no time did you feel particularly happy or sad you just carried on with the routine. 
• 6 - Slightly Above Average. Generally monotonous, but maybe you had one conversation/idea/meal that made you smile.
• 7 - A Good Day. Smiles all around you. You went through your day enjoying everything you did. 
• 8 - A Great Day. Generally good, but something amazing  / memorable happened. A kiss, a party, a trip, an epiphany. 
• 9 -  Awesomeness! You bounded out of bed, had adventures, enjoyed your great relationships, ended the day exhausted and satisfied. 

There is a place to put notes as you rate each day. You could list things you did, people you interacted with, places you went, etc. These will the show up in a cloud with the size impacted by the number of reoccurrences.  It will graph your daily rating lineally and provide the frequency of bad days and good days. 

As an example my current frequencies are a good day every 2.4 days and a bad day every 8.7 days. 

I've heard people say you make your own happiness. I believe there is something to this. I've actually been surprised that I tend to score more more frequently at a rate of 6 and second is a tie between 7 and 8.   Out of  26 days rated I was happy 11 days, content 12 and sad 3. Now I know we poets are supposed the be eternally depressed so maybe I should not be broadcasting these statistics. 

It will be interesting to see how much / if this flatmates at times during the year.  By rating the day, sometimes it forces me to acknowledge that the day was not so bad. Maybe we do make our own happiness. 

Confession Tuesday Stranger than Fiction Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one leafy lawn week since my last confession.

To the Confessional:

I confess that last week I was looking at the giant maple in our front yard, then the lawn, and thinking, not many leaves in the yard.  This morning as I left for work I looked at the lawn then the tree and thought - ah, not many leaves on the tree.

I confess that sourdough bread toasted with butter and orange marmalade seems like it was just meant to me.

I confess I'm thinking that based upon what we know thus far about the General David Petraues scandal that the e-mail between the two women sounded more  like junior high students then a threat. "I saw what you did under the table." Really?

I confess that the story of the 28 year old woman who allegedly ran over her husband because he didn't vote and Romney lost the election was just a bit on the wacko side. I confessed that if you had asked me what state this happened in there was a good chance I would have guessed correctly Arizona. If I hadn't know the woman was only 28, I might have incorrectly guessed her name was Jan.

I confess that I realized this week my books I want to read/buy list is growing exponentially.  Good news for booksellers, bad news for my budget.

I confess that some days I feel like I should be writing a "running with scissors" sort of memoir but then in the same breath I think how boring it would be.

I confess that while I was sick this past week I had weird dreams at night. One involved a modern version of a Volkswagen Westfalia bus that flew which only made me nostalgic for our Westfalia that didn't fly and sometimes wouldn't even run.

I confess that I have been working to assemble work into a poetry manuscript.  I confess I've heard one to many people ask what has taken so long. I also confess that I have started to do this in the past and it has been hampered by a variety of forms of procrastination, self-criticism, and a hint of reality.

I confess I have been using an application called illuum to track happiness and varying degrees of it. It's been fascinating to see patterns to good days and bad days plus the frequency of good days. I actually plan to blog about this in the near future.

I confess that's all for today and I barely got this done in time~

Ceremony by Louise Gluck

Over the years I've come to appreciate Louise Gluck more and more. The first time I read her she just didn't click with me. It was The Wild Iris that sold me on Gluck. It was so different from anything else of hers that I have read and I not only liked it but was impressed with depth and range of her abilities. The Wild Iris was written in something like 9 or 10 weeks and yet there was noting cheap about the writing.

Her work has grown on me and I've even revisited some of the first poems I read of hers and found for many of the a greater appreciation. Today I found one of her poems that I love. It's such a smart write. It is fresh and the whole concept of the poem is so brilliant you (or at least I) wish you had come up with it yourself.

The poem is titled Ceremony and it was published in The New York Times and originally appeared in her collection "Meadowlands" from 1996. You can read Ceremony here.