Confession Tuesday

Dear Reader:

It's been one week since my last confession. Christmas has come and gone. So has Festivus and Boxing Day. Of course the last two aren't on my radar for celebrating but I really feel like Christmas passed me by this year. Thanksgiving too. Illness visited me for not just one but both holidays. I did get out to a couple of holiday events but really overdid it at both. I was back at work today but I confess I'm still not 100%.  Do I dare hold out hope of feeling well for New Years?

I confess that today I started thinking about a Subway meatball sandwich as early as 1 p.m. (my lunch salad just settling in my stomach)  By 4 p.m. I called my wife at work and asked her if she'd like to stop at Subway on the way home for dinner. I'm not a big Subway fan so this probably came as a shock to her. She was up for it so we did.  It was ummmm - good!

The Iowa caucuses are one week away and while I've been following  closely I admit it seems so totally foreign because it is all about the GOP.  Iowa is a neighboring state and there are many times I've joined others who have migrated to the state to campaign for candidates in advance of the caucuses.  Each of these have been for democratic candidates and so I confess that thinking of Iowa void of early Democratic battles is surreal. 

I confess that after paying 2.85 recently for gas my stomach did not make it's traditional growling sound. I have no delusions of it lasting.

Yes, it's Resolutions time again.  Will I have some? I confess I'm split over it even as the year is ticking away.  I will settle on an answer by New Years and let you know.

May the rest of your 2011 keep you safe and see you into the New Year!

In the Spirit of Giving and Taking....

I have only the faintest delineation of Thanksgiving 2011 and Christmas 2011.  This emanates largely because I've been ill during both.  Not quite the same illness but I'm sure one is related to the other so like everything else presently the lines seem a bit blurred.

One thing that has seemed permanent during this period is my writing has been best described as ill as well.  And there I go... the better or stronger adjective surly is sick! See what I mean?

Over and over I've tried kick starting stuff with free-writes, prompts you name it. I pretty certain the the Grinch stole my creativity. He sucked it right out of me!

So the past couple of days I've stepped back and taken a look at creativity and writing in general through the eyes of others.  This is the "taking" part and sharing it here with you is the "giving."

Robert McCrum writing for the Guardian in his Fifty things I've learned about the literary life had a few interesting point to ponder.  Some of the ones that struck me as the most interesting are:

• Less is more. Or, "the only art is to omit" (Robert Louis Stevenson). This is probably even more relevant to poetry. *Note to self: stop over writing.
• A great novel can cost as much as a pencil and a pad of paper – or a whole life.  *I think the same can be said about poetry books.
• In writers, vanity is the cardinal sin.
• Keep a diary. It might keep you.
• The "overnight success" is usually anything but.
• Literature is theft. *This has to be true... I've heard so many variations of it.
• Ebooks are not the end of the world. Ebooks are not the end of the world. Ebooks are not the end of the world. *Okay, if you say so. (heavy sigh)
•  A secret is something that is only repeated to one person at a time.
• Everything is fiction. *Even confessional poetry. By the same token, all poetry is true (in some contest)!
• Amazon is not "evil" (J Daunt).
• Poets are either the lions or the termites of the literary jungle. * While I have no idea what he's suggesting here, I liked the way it sounded so it makes my list.

Other things that I've come upon in my search for greater wisdom in the pursuit of creativity in my writing:

According to psychologist Dr. Robert Epstein, "External factors such as stress play a much heavier role in determining innovation than anything intrinsic."  Have I been stressed out lately? Do bears shit in the woods?

I ran across three quotes that all hit home with me.  Only one do I actually know the author of and I hate to post something without attributing it to it's author (so if anyone knows the source of these please speak up):

"It's not what you look at that matters it's what you see."  - unknown

"When you are stuck walk away from the computer. It will teach you how to see."  - Gerard Huerta

And lastly - "Art Is what you can get away with." - unknown

After all this I get the feeling that successful writing is really pretty simple. That is not to say it is easy, but simply. Perhaps the hardest part is to not overthink. To simply be quiet and listen to yourself, be observent and open it new and different views. Actually write and do so often but be willing to step back as needed and allow yourself to see the view through an different portal.

deja vu all over

Sick through Thanksgiving and a resurgence hitting me ahead of Christmas. I went to the doctor this morning and returned home for bed rest. I'm feeling the Grinch has stolen my health for the holidays.

It's difficult to focus on anything - head hurts from all the coughing. I go from chills to hot. I want to sleep but I'm tired of sleeping.

Writing and reading are easy with my headache and my eyes feel strained without even trying to read.  It's not a pretty picture. 

If you were looking for an uplifting post, you came to the wrong place. But there is hope... maybe tomorrow or even Saturday things will turn around.I may not be flat on my beck for Christmas as I was on Thanksgiving,  My fingers are crossed. I'd cross my eyes too but it hurts too much!

The Star’s Top 100 Books of 2011 - KansasCity.com

The Star’s Top 100 Books of 2011 - KansasCity.com

Among the Top 100 the Star select the following Poetry Books:

• “Bone Fires: New and Selected Poems,” by Mark Jarman (Sarabande Books). Following the development of Jarman’s poetry and his uncompromising vision of poetry-making as sacred work, our contributor, Michelle Boisseau, found herself amazed again and again at how the unaffected discipline of Jarman’s craft helps him plumb the reaches of human experience. One of the most moving and exhilarating experiences she had this year reading poetry.

•  “Anthony Hecht: Selected Poems,” edited by J. D. McClatchy (Knopf). Hecht, who died in 2004, was a poet of technical brilliance and terrifying depths who made unforgettable poems that have achieved permanence in the American canon. 

•  “Space, in Chains,” by Laura Kasischke (Copper Canyon). It takes a poet of Kasischke’s extraordinary gifts to render fragmentation and loss with the intense clarity of dream in her eighth collection. • “The FSG Book of Twentieth-Century Latin American Poetry,” edited by Ilan Stavans (Farrar Straus). Work by 84 poets from 16 countries, translated (by the likes of Elizabeth Bishop, Samuel Beckett and W.S. Merwin) from Portuguese and Spanish as well as from languages like Mapuche and Zapotec. This thrilling, dynamic multilingual anthology includes monumental figures like Borges and Neruda and introduces to wider audiences indigenous poets like Elicura Chihuailaf and younger poets remapping the New World.

• “The City, Our City,” by Wayne Miller (Milkweed Editions). The muse of this exquisite collection is an imagined contemporary metropolis (with flashes of Kansas City, Miller’s current city) that thrives simultaneously with the lost cities it has risen from and falls toward, allowing the poet’s urbanites to grasp the continuity of human tragedy and joy. 

•  “Taller When Prone,” by Les Murray (Farrar, Straus and Giroux). In the newest of his 14 poetry collections, the brilliant Murray crosses the globe and his beloved and infuriating Australia, leveling his muscular wit at our foibles in poems that are inventive, tender and water-tight. 

•  “The Wrecking Light,” by Robin Robertson (Picador). Coming from a place along the icy fathoms of the North Sea, the currency of this major Scots poet is spare, heart-rending lyrics and haunting narratives that suggest the salt glinting from the granite.

Read more here

Confession Tuesday - One of those moments

Tuesday again... how does this happen?

Come with me to the confessional... 

Dear Reader:

It's been one week since my last confession. One circular week I fear.  Between yesterday and today I fear the pneumonia is trying to make a comeback for the Christmas holiday. Tried to get in to see my doctor and can't be seen till Thursday morning (sigh)  I confess that this is disheartening because it takes a lot for me to reach the point of wanting to go to the Doctor. Damn!  Psyched up for nothing and I'll have to do it all over again tomorrow night in order to be ready Thursday morning. Assuming I'm still alive!

Now there is a much bigger confession coming.  One that has had my family laughing.  During this past week my daughter called one afternoon and asked me to take Gabe out for her. Gabe is a dog temporarily in residence with us. I went down to the family room and retrieved him from his kennel and escorted him up the stairs and out back. After doing his business I lead him back downstairs on his leash.  We walked right past his kennel and I opened a door to the utility room. Inside I turned the light on with the pull chain. Then stooped to open the door to the front load washer wider. Looking back a Gabe I saw a dog with the most contorted quizzical look on his face looking at the opening and them back to me. It took me a moment to realize what I'm sure Gabe already knew...  And now you know too!

May you know the dog from the laundry in the week ahead!

Thought for the Day

"A man's life is nothing but an extended trek through the detours of art to recapture those one or two moments when his heart first opened." ~ Albert Camus

It's In the Mail This Week

I love it when I get mail that relates in some way to poetry. It always beats the electric bill or any other for that matter.

In the mail this week I received my Jan-Feb issue of Poets and Writers magazine. Yeah!!!  I also received a Holiday / New Years post card of sorts from a poet friend.

No rejection letters this week but then no acceptances either.

I've already alluded in an earlier post to the fact that the latest issue of Poets & Writers is awesome. If you don't subscribe to it, pick it up off the shelf. Barnes & Noble.