Lawson gave the Kundi crowd a great performance at China Buffet as Jon Wei and Patrick Rosal played music to his poems.
2 days ago
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Kundiman Co-Founder and Program Director Joseph Legaspi reads his SEXY and SIZZLING poem
Joseph was openly challenged by Ching-In Chen to write a poem entitled, "I'm Sexy Hot Sizzle" or something like that. Anyway, Joseph came to bat, reading his hilarious poem at China Buffet.
Dorm Room Sing-Alongs
Almost every night, we closed the evening with sing-alongs in Joseph and Sarah's room. There's R.A. Villanueva, John Wei, and Patrick Rosal entertaining us. They're DAMN good.
We all wanted to pose with the babies
We were so happy to have Jon and Amy come to Charlottesville for the conference. Amy's right in the center with two kiddies on her lap.
Bald is beautiful!
Marlon Esguerra, Jon Pineda, and myself pose in front of a wide-screen TV. We couldn't figure out how to turn it off. Note the right of the screen says, "Suga."
Jon wanted to kiss everyone
Joseph is the recipient of some lovin', courtesy of Jon Pineda who has his arm around Purvi. Jon just couldn't get enough love from everyone.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Kundiman Day 3 1/4
Quick Summary:
AMAZING day today. Jon Pineda taught the "Spark Writing" session and used Du Fu's line, "One by one the stars go out" as the prompt. The fellows went straight to work and churned out amazing poems that left many of us with our jaws on the floor.
Later in the evening, we had the Kundiman Gala retreat reading. There were lots of tears of love and lots of celebrations. It's hard to really describe it and do it justice . . . Anyway, each of the three groups had to designate a reader for the gala to read alongside the faculty. Patrick as always wowed us with his fabulous reading. Aimee was equally as spectacular. . . and Lawson offered his spot on the docket to his workshop students. Together, they performed a fantastic collaborative piece while Kelly Tsai did interpretive movements.
We loitered around for a bit after the reading and then we all headed to Sarah and Joseph's suite. Patrick, Jon Wei, Ron V., and Jon Pineda jammed on guitars while the rest of us were drinking bad whiskey. We capped off the musical celebration with the Kundiman rendition of John Cougar Mellencamp's Jack and Diane
After, we went as a whole conference to Orbitz, a bar on The Corner. They tuned the television to HBO's Def Poetry Jam and let us watch Kelly Tsai's fabulous performance.
All in all, we had a very busy day. I'm tired and again it's almost 2AM.
AMAZING day today. Jon Pineda taught the "Spark Writing" session and used Du Fu's line, "One by one the stars go out" as the prompt. The fellows went straight to work and churned out amazing poems that left many of us with our jaws on the floor.
Later in the evening, we had the Kundiman Gala retreat reading. There were lots of tears of love and lots of celebrations. It's hard to really describe it and do it justice . . . Anyway, each of the three groups had to designate a reader for the gala to read alongside the faculty. Patrick as always wowed us with his fabulous reading. Aimee was equally as spectacular. . . and Lawson offered his spot on the docket to his workshop students. Together, they performed a fantastic collaborative piece while Kelly Tsai did interpretive movements.
We loitered around for a bit after the reading and then we all headed to Sarah and Joseph's suite. Patrick, Jon Wei, Ron V., and Jon Pineda jammed on guitars while the rest of us were drinking bad whiskey. We capped off the musical celebration with the Kundiman rendition of John Cougar Mellencamp's Jack and Diane
After, we went as a whole conference to Orbitz, a bar on The Corner. They tuned the television to HBO's Def Poetry Jam and let us watch Kelly Tsai's fabulous performance.
All in all, we had a very busy day. I'm tired and again it's almost 2AM.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Kundiman Day 2 1/4
Last night, after the circle/salon reading (which was amazing, by the way) Patrick, Patrick's buddy Jon Wei, Ron V., and myself went looking for tennis courts. I swear I had passed them on my way to the dorms. Alas, my memory isn't as good as it used to be. I lead us straight to a lighted parking lot that had police tape draped from one lamp post to another (it looked like a lighted court with a tennis-net to me). So we ended up walking back towards the dorms to the lighted basketball court where I shot poorly. It started to rain while we were out there and we were more or less talking about what sports we were involved in during our youth. I think I was the only wrestler.
After we wrapped up on the basketball courts, we headed out to The Jabberwocky, a local college watering hole where other Kundiman folks were gathered. Patrick bought a bunch of folks some shots. Everyone was talking poetry. At this point it's close to 1:30AM, so I headed on back to the dorms.
Apparently folks were up until 3AM singing Bob Marley tunes. Again it was tough getting up this morning. Thankfully, Jon Pineda's leading the Spark Writing sessions today.
Stay tuned, more coming.
P.S. I guess you'll have to wait on Kundiman pictures until I get back. I stupidly brought the wrong adapter. Sorry!
After we wrapped up on the basketball courts, we headed out to The Jabberwocky, a local college watering hole where other Kundiman folks were gathered. Patrick bought a bunch of folks some shots. Everyone was talking poetry. At this point it's close to 1:30AM, so I headed on back to the dorms.
Apparently folks were up until 3AM singing Bob Marley tunes. Again it was tough getting up this morning. Thankfully, Jon Pineda's leading the Spark Writing sessions today.
Stay tuned, more coming.
P.S. I guess you'll have to wait on Kundiman pictures until I get back. I stupidly brought the wrong adapter. Sorry!
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Kundiman Day 1 1/2
The students arrived yesterday and it was good to see some familiar faces. We had a circle meeting after dinner where we introduced ourselves and it rained. Outside one of the windows, you could see the water pouring down the steps in a large stream.
In the evening, we shared one poem. All the poets were fantastic. We were even in tears for some of the readings.
I picked up Lawson Inada later that evening and he was is usual self: charming as all heck. I consider Lawson kindred of sorts because we know some of the same Japanese American families from my home town.
The next day, we did the usual orientation stuff and students broke into their respective workshop groups. I'm a bit tired at the moment, since I didn't get to bed until around 2AM and I've been up since 7AM. I'm on a break right now, so I may take a nap.
Anyway, I've been snapping away with my digital camera, so I'll post some pictures soon.
In the evening, we shared one poem. All the poets were fantastic. We were even in tears for some of the readings.
I picked up Lawson Inada later that evening and he was is usual self: charming as all heck. I consider Lawson kindred of sorts because we know some of the same Japanese American families from my home town.
The next day, we did the usual orientation stuff and students broke into their respective workshop groups. I'm a bit tired at the moment, since I didn't get to bed until around 2AM and I've been up since 7AM. I'm on a break right now, so I may take a nap.
Anyway, I've been snapping away with my digital camera, so I'll post some pictures soon.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Post Fourth.
I'm cleaning out the office today. I've packed most of the book cases, now it's down to clearing out all the files I've hoarded for the past four years. The room looks much bigger without the book cases. The dog doesn't seem to notice, though.
In fact, he doesn't seem to notice much of anything. Last night I was doing a little more packing when the fireworks started to go off in the park. We live across the street from a ski slope where they launch the city's big Fourth of July Extravaganza. Anyway, the fireworks were booming above our heads. We both went to the back deck and watched a bit. Jake's ears just raised a little. He pointed his nose skyward looking at the explosions, then he sat down and demanded attention. Basically he sat in front of me obscuring my view of the festivities.
Everyone in Utica seemed to be at the ski park. Some annoying people attempted to park in someone else's back yard, citing that it was "Bob's house and Bob lets us park there." Maybe so, but the tenets who live there and pay Bob rent had no place to park. There were loads and loads of cars stacked fender to fender down all the side streets leading to the park. It's a wonder where all these people come from, since most of the time I find the place to be a little dead.
At the end of the night, around 10 or so, they fired all the fireworks. Jake didn't seem to mind that, either.
In fact, he doesn't seem to notice much of anything. Last night I was doing a little more packing when the fireworks started to go off in the park. We live across the street from a ski slope where they launch the city's big Fourth of July Extravaganza. Anyway, the fireworks were booming above our heads. We both went to the back deck and watched a bit. Jake's ears just raised a little. He pointed his nose skyward looking at the explosions, then he sat down and demanded attention. Basically he sat in front of me obscuring my view of the festivities.
Everyone in Utica seemed to be at the ski park. Some annoying people attempted to park in someone else's back yard, citing that it was "Bob's house and Bob lets us park there." Maybe so, but the tenets who live there and pay Bob rent had no place to park. There were loads and loads of cars stacked fender to fender down all the side streets leading to the park. It's a wonder where all these people come from, since most of the time I find the place to be a little dead.
At the end of the night, around 10 or so, they fired all the fireworks. Jake didn't seem to mind that, either.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Lots of stuff goin' on
First off, I'm in the midst of packing all my books. For those of you who know me and have been to my various abodes over the years, you know that I have a lot of books. In the den, between Meredith and I, we've got four large 5-shelf bookcases plus another longer 3-shelf book case. I've also got 5 folding book cases in the office. All of these book cases are filled with books, some of which are stacked flat on their backs for more space. So far I've filled 27 file-boxes and I haven't even started on the office. A mover was here in mid-June. He took one look at all the books and said, "Well, there's your weight." Not a good thing, since they charge by the pound on these moving trucks. Luckily, I can get rid of a lot of my rhetoric and composition books, since I won't be teaching rhet-comp at Western Washington.
Also, Meredith and I settled on some movers after going through a lot of hoops in terms of scheduling site visits, negotiating prices, accounting for reimbursement with our various institutions, etc..
Finally, we found a rental house! It'll be in Lake Stevens. That's further south than I'd like to be, but it'll definitely be better for Meredith who has to commute every day. Moving day's only three weeks away!
Also, Meredith and I settled on some movers after going through a lot of hoops in terms of scheduling site visits, negotiating prices, accounting for reimbursement with our various institutions, etc..
Finally, we found a rental house! It'll be in Lake Stevens. That's further south than I'd like to be, but it'll definitely be better for Meredith who has to commute every day. Moving day's only three weeks away!
Monday, June 27, 2005
I'm sore
This past Saturday, one of our "dog-walking-friends," invited me to her health club for "tips" with the tennis pro. I used to play tennis every day when I was in high school. I played a whole bunch when I was a grad-student, though Arizona's a really HOT place to play tennis. When I lived in Gettysburg, PA, I played quite a bit with the Gettysburg Review folks. In the winters, we'd convert the basketball gym into a tennis court with a roll-away volleyball net. After I moved to Utica, I stopped. I guess I got lazy about it . . . you know, moving to a new area, trying to find hitting partners, etc.. I tried to find hitting partners when I first got into town, but then it became evident that no one on faculty played. So, I gave up.
Recently, I got bit by the tennis bug. When we were in Paris, I tried to get tickets to see the French Open and got as far as the gate. Now Wimbledon's on television and I've been watching the matches. I've been driving out to the courts and practicing serves. I'm glad that I can still hit a serve, though it's pretty much the only shot I have left. It's funny, but it's one of the harder shots to execute after time off and yet it's giving me no trouble. The problem now is my groundstrokes are bloody awful. I've been spraying balls all over the courts. There's a hitting wall on one of the courts and I've been trying to hit against the thing. I'll be doing fine for a little while, then frame a shot and spray a ball over the fence. It's all quite humiliating.
Anyway, our friend scheduled lessons with a tennis pro at her club and the DUDE had me running all over the court. I think he thought I was younger than I looked. Let me tell you, I was sucking wind after twenty minutes. He did mention that he could tell I used to play a lot, and that made me feel better about my game.
So, if I've been away from blogging, it's partically because I'm trying to salvage my tennis game. Maybe I'll see you guys on the courts?
Recently, I got bit by the tennis bug. When we were in Paris, I tried to get tickets to see the French Open and got as far as the gate. Now Wimbledon's on television and I've been watching the matches. I've been driving out to the courts and practicing serves. I'm glad that I can still hit a serve, though it's pretty much the only shot I have left. It's funny, but it's one of the harder shots to execute after time off and yet it's giving me no trouble. The problem now is my groundstrokes are bloody awful. I've been spraying balls all over the courts. There's a hitting wall on one of the courts and I've been trying to hit against the thing. I'll be doing fine for a little while, then frame a shot and spray a ball over the fence. It's all quite humiliating.
Anyway, our friend scheduled lessons with a tennis pro at her club and the DUDE had me running all over the court. I think he thought I was younger than I looked. Let me tell you, I was sucking wind after twenty minutes. He did mention that he could tell I used to play a lot, and that made me feel better about my game.
So, if I've been away from blogging, it's partically because I'm trying to salvage my tennis game. Maybe I'll see you guys on the courts?
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Paperwork!
Just when I thought I was safe, paperwork has crept back into my life. I'm in the midst of choosing movers, doing the paperwork so that I can get reimbursed for my move, filling out forms for grant money, doing things for our upcoming wedding, and planning stuff for my Kundiman Spark exercise. And you thought Summers were for relaxation?
Friday, June 17, 2005
Books I'm TRYING to read . . .
I'm emphasizing "trying" because I've got ZERO attention span at the moment. On my bedside table are Rushdie's Satanic Verses and Catch 22. I tried reading Catch 22 on a train to New York a few weeks ago. Instead, I watched the man next to me consume four beers, two mini bottles of whiskey, three hot dogs, and two bags of potato chips. Sorry Yossarian, but this dude was way more interesting. He then tried to sleep, but these old ladies from some strange religious tour group from England were yak-yak-yakking about how glorious the countryside was, and how glorious their hats were. He kept shouting from underneath a coat he had over his head, "Excuse me!" The ladies would then lower their voices a few pitches, but then raise them as they got excited. This went on for four hours. As I said, it all made for better theatre than Catch 22.
I stopped reading Satanic Verses because of portability. There are a few things that crossed my mind as I started to read the novel: 1) It's a big book. 2) I'm going to travel a lot 3) I'm going to visit some folks in South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia 4) I'm a bald Asian man and I don't want to wander airports carrying Satanic Verses when I know in my passport I have a stamp from Morocco. (By the way, on my recent international flights, my trip to Morocco surfaced every time I passed through customs).
So as you can see, these are my reasons for not finishing things. I guess I should read poetry books instead of novels, yes? Although I can say that I finished The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks while I was in Paris, so I have one novel down. The goal that I set every year is to read at least four novels for the summer. I'm well short of that goal at the moment. I'll keep trying.
I stopped reading Satanic Verses because of portability. There are a few things that crossed my mind as I started to read the novel: 1) It's a big book. 2) I'm going to travel a lot 3) I'm going to visit some folks in South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia 4) I'm a bald Asian man and I don't want to wander airports carrying Satanic Verses when I know in my passport I have a stamp from Morocco. (By the way, on my recent international flights, my trip to Morocco surfaced every time I passed through customs).
So as you can see, these are my reasons for not finishing things. I guess I should read poetry books instead of novels, yes? Although I can say that I finished The Sweet Hereafter by Russell Banks while I was in Paris, so I have one novel down. The goal that I set every year is to read at least four novels for the summer. I'm well short of that goal at the moment. I'll keep trying.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Sacre Coeur
It started as an overcast day but then turned sunny, bright, and hot when we left the site of the Sacre Coeur. After we scaled what seemed like thousands of steps to get to the top of the hill, we were accosted by several street artists who kept trying to hustle us for a portraiture.
Mass was in session in the Sacre Coeur and you're not supposed to take photos of the inside, anyway. Apparently it was kids day because there was a throng of children surrounding the altar to the front on their knees with several nuns.
Mass was in session in the Sacre Coeur and you're not supposed to take photos of the inside, anyway. Apparently it was kids day because there was a throng of children surrounding the altar to the front on their knees with several nuns.
Grave of Marguerite Duras
Yet another grave from Cemetiere Montparnasse. As you walk through the front gate of the cemetary and hang a left past the information bureau, you'll see Marguerite's grave. There were two potted flowers on top of the stone, but otherwise it was an unadorned grave compared to some of the others we saw. I think it's time to re-read The Lover. She's always been one of my favorite authors.
More Snapshots from Paris
I believe Suzanne asked if we went to the Rodin museum. Indeed we did. As you can see, the weather was gorgeous. In fact, most of the time we were in Paris it was in the high 70's to low 80's.
We had just hit the Rodin museum before closing time, so the park was nearly empty.
We had just hit the Rodin museum before closing time, so the park was nearly empty.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Patrick's Sleeves
The Underside of the Eiffel Tower
If you've never been to Paris and you've always wondered what it looks like beneath the Eiffel Tower . . . here you go.
Blurry Placard for Susan Sontag's Grave
Meredith and I explored the Cimetiere du Montparnasse. I wanted to find the graves of Guy de Maupassant, Charles Baudelaire, and Man Ray. Instead we found the graves of Marguerite Duras, Bressai, Tristan Tzara, Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and yes . . . Susan Sontag. Her grave, since it's new, was covered in flowers.
A Fountain Ornament
One of the famous fountain ornaments from Centre Pompidou. The fountain was drained when we were there, so I was a little disappointed. Earlier, we had coffee and sandwiches at a corner cafe facing Pompidou. Some Throat Singers of Tuva were performing right at the entrance to the museum.
Musee d'Orsay
Meredith and I were lost in this beautiful museum. I still can't get over the fact that they allowed people to take photos of art-work (not flash photos). I couldn't bring myself to take photos of any of the paintings and sculptures. Anyway, at the very front, you may be able to make out images of shadow puppets near the clock.
Back from Paris
You've all seen monuments, etc. Here's an interesting shot of two young ladies sitting at the foot of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. They were laughing at all the "Silly Americans" posing for group photos.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Blog Hiatus
As you read below, I'm going to be "out of town" for a spell. I'll be sipping coffee, strolling down promenades, shopping, and museum hopping. In the meantime, don't do anything silly while I'm gone. Joseph.
Monday, May 16, 2005
Summer Vacation and Secrets Revealed
Hey, y'all. Many of you guessed my secret. Meredith and I are engaged! Ring photos to follow shortly. Anyway, to celebrate our engagement. We're going to Paris. If you're curious, here's our rough itinerary:
***************************
Wed. May 18
Arrive in Charles de Gaule airport, Bercy gardens, Pere La Chaise cemetary.
Thurs. May 19
Ile de la cite & Marais (Notre Dame, Place behind Notre Dame, Concergerie, Sainte Chappelle, Pont St. Michel, Petit Pont, Pont Neuf, Place des Vosges, Opera de Paris Bastille, Musee Picasso, Hotel de Ville) Ice cream across from Pont au Double “Le Bertillon.”
Fri. May 20
Beaubourg & les Halles (Pompidou Center, Café Beaubourg, Forum de Halles, St. Eustache church?, La Samaritaine dept. Store, Jardin des Tuileries, Le Louvre, Palais Royal, Rue de Rivoli, Hot chocolate on Rue Rivoli, Jardin de Tuileries.
Sat. May 21
St. Germain de Pres & Latin Quarter (Les Deux Magots, Brasserie Lipp, Musee d’Orsay, M St. Michel, M Odeon, little streets back where toy shop is, Pantheon) Moules frites restaurant down from Pantheon Bateaux mouche daytime.
Sun. May 22
Jardin des Plantes & Invalides & Eiffel Tower quarter (Institut Musulman, Institut du Monde Arabe, Napoleon’s tomb, Musee Rodin, Trocadero, gardens at Troc., Eiffel Tower).
Mon. May 23
Place de la Concorde, walk up Champs-Elysees to Arc de Triomphe, Petit Palais, Grand Palais.
Tues. May 24
Dinner: Le Relais de Venise steakhouse, 271, bd Péreire (Porte Maillot) 17th Arr. Montmartre (Sacre-Coeur, St. Pierre de Montmartre, Au Lapin Agile, Place du Tertre, Place des abbesses, Moulin Rouge, Dali or Fourney museum).
Wed. May 25
Porte de Vanves--strolling Montparnasse-Crepes for lunch, La Defense (la Grande Arche, office buildings).
Thur. May 26
Breathing.
*********************
Somewhere in there, we'll see the new Star Wars movie. When we get back, we've got to high-tail it to Aimee's wedding. The Summer kicks off with a bang!
***************************
Wed. May 18
Arrive in Charles de Gaule airport, Bercy gardens, Pere La Chaise cemetary.
Thurs. May 19
Ile de la cite & Marais (Notre Dame, Place behind Notre Dame, Concergerie, Sainte Chappelle, Pont St. Michel, Petit Pont, Pont Neuf, Place des Vosges, Opera de Paris Bastille, Musee Picasso, Hotel de Ville) Ice cream across from Pont au Double “Le Bertillon.”
Fri. May 20
Beaubourg & les Halles (Pompidou Center, Café Beaubourg, Forum de Halles, St. Eustache church?, La Samaritaine dept. Store, Jardin des Tuileries, Le Louvre, Palais Royal, Rue de Rivoli, Hot chocolate on Rue Rivoli, Jardin de Tuileries.
Sat. May 21
St. Germain de Pres & Latin Quarter (Les Deux Magots, Brasserie Lipp, Musee d’Orsay, M St. Michel, M Odeon, little streets back where toy shop is, Pantheon) Moules frites restaurant down from Pantheon Bateaux mouche daytime.
Sun. May 22
Jardin des Plantes & Invalides & Eiffel Tower quarter (Institut Musulman, Institut du Monde Arabe, Napoleon’s tomb, Musee Rodin, Trocadero, gardens at Troc., Eiffel Tower).
Mon. May 23
Place de la Concorde, walk up Champs-Elysees to Arc de Triomphe, Petit Palais, Grand Palais.
Tues. May 24
Dinner: Le Relais de Venise steakhouse, 271, bd Péreire (Porte Maillot) 17th Arr. Montmartre (Sacre-Coeur, St. Pierre de Montmartre, Au Lapin Agile, Place du Tertre, Place des abbesses, Moulin Rouge, Dali or Fourney museum).
Wed. May 25
Porte de Vanves--strolling Montparnasse-Crepes for lunch, La Defense (la Grande Arche, office buildings).
Thur. May 26
Breathing.
*********************
Somewhere in there, we'll see the new Star Wars movie. When we get back, we've got to high-tail it to Aimee's wedding. The Summer kicks off with a bang!
Friday, May 13, 2005
Finally, all done grading.
Yup. I'm finished for the semester. For the past week I've been a grading machine. Now I'm in the midst of cleaning out my office. It's amazing how much stuff I've accumulated over the past four years.
I just went through my closet. There were over two-hundred unclaimed portfolios handed in by students. I was going through some of them and I was shocked at how I had forgotten so many names/faces. I used to be really good at keeping names and faces of students straight, but now I found I couldn't remember 3/4ths of the folks.
So now, I'm offically on Summer Vacation. I lounged around the house today, drinking coffee slowly, and watching recaps of SportsCenter. I checked my e-mail a half-dozen times, and I read trashy pop-culture magazines.
By the way, Meredith and I are going to Paris this coming Tuesday. For those of you who are LOUSY at keeping secrets, it's sort of our pre-honeymoon.
I'll bring back some cheese for you guys.
I just went through my closet. There were over two-hundred unclaimed portfolios handed in by students. I was going through some of them and I was shocked at how I had forgotten so many names/faces. I used to be really good at keeping names and faces of students straight, but now I found I couldn't remember 3/4ths of the folks.
So now, I'm offically on Summer Vacation. I lounged around the house today, drinking coffee slowly, and watching recaps of SportsCenter. I checked my e-mail a half-dozen times, and I read trashy pop-culture magazines.
By the way, Meredith and I are going to Paris this coming Tuesday. For those of you who are LOUSY at keeping secrets, it's sort of our pre-honeymoon.
I'll bring back some cheese for you guys.
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Fishouse is Live
Hey folks, Fishouse is live. Check it out. I've got a few poems posted as do fellow bloggers Aimee, Barb, and Patrick.
For those of you unfamiliar with a couple of folks, might I direct your attention to the work of Brian Turner and Steve Scafidi?
Brian's a sweet guy. I met him at AWP in Vancouver this year. His favorite drink is a White Russian. Check out his poem, "Here, Bullet."
And Steve's a cabinet maker living in West Virginia. He's also a sweetheart. If you listen closely to the audio recording, you can hear chickens in the background. I recommend "To Whoever Set My Truck on Fire."
For those of you unfamiliar with a couple of folks, might I direct your attention to the work of Brian Turner and Steve Scafidi?
Brian's a sweet guy. I met him at AWP in Vancouver this year. His favorite drink is a White Russian. Check out his poem, "Here, Bullet."
And Steve's a cabinet maker living in West Virginia. He's also a sweetheart. If you listen closely to the audio recording, you can hear chickens in the background. I recommend "To Whoever Set My Truck on Fire."
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Do you listen to music when you write?
I spoke with the poet/writer Eric Gansworth about this at length when he came to Utica for a reading in 2002. Anyway, Eric's one of the most prolific artists I know. He also does almost all his composition while music is blaring in the background.
I have to say that I also write when there's music going. The music has to be all instrumental, though. There can't be any vocals, otherwise I'm apt to get Earworms. So the music I listen to ranges anywhere from Classical (rarely), to Classical Jazz (most often), to odd-ball instrumental groups like The Dirty Three and The Rachel's.
Still, a lot of writers I know need complete silence. What type of writer are you? Do you need the background noise to compose? Do you utilize the sounds in your environment? Do you need absolute silence when you write?
I have to say that I also write when there's music going. The music has to be all instrumental, though. There can't be any vocals, otherwise I'm apt to get Earworms. So the music I listen to ranges anywhere from Classical (rarely), to Classical Jazz (most often), to odd-ball instrumental groups like The Dirty Three and The Rachel's.
Still, a lot of writers I know need complete silence. What type of writer are you? Do you need the background noise to compose? Do you utilize the sounds in your environment? Do you need absolute silence when you write?
Monday, May 02, 2005
Last day of classes
Today's the last day of classes. I'll be lugging around a ton of portfolios by the end of the day. Poor me!
I had promised my Advanced Poetry class a pizza party, but I have no money. I mean, really. . . I have no money. So I'm not sure what to do. I think I can scrounge together a few leftover pieces of candy and cookies.
One of my former professors came in on the last day with a bottle of port. I suppose I could do that, but . . . I don't really like port, and I don't want to part with any of the liquor we have in the house.
Got any suggestions? Should I just bag it and say I can't buy you guys pizza because I'm poor, or should I try to put something together with whatever's in the house . . . OR, should I bite the bullet and buy a damn pizza?
*sigh*
I had promised my Advanced Poetry class a pizza party, but I have no money. I mean, really. . . I have no money. So I'm not sure what to do. I think I can scrounge together a few leftover pieces of candy and cookies.
One of my former professors came in on the last day with a bottle of port. I suppose I could do that, but . . . I don't really like port, and I don't want to part with any of the liquor we have in the house.
Got any suggestions? Should I just bag it and say I can't buy you guys pizza because I'm poor, or should I try to put something together with whatever's in the house . . . OR, should I bite the bullet and buy a damn pizza?
*sigh*
Welcome Ruth!
Please welcome my dear sister/friend, Ruth Ellen Kocher to the blog world!
Not only is she a fantastic writer, but she's one of the sweetest people I know.
Glad you could join us, Ruth.
Not only is she a fantastic writer, but she's one of the sweetest people I know.
Glad you could join us, Ruth.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Guilty Pleasures?
Fellow blog poet, Paul Guest has a thread on Guilty Pleasures. It's a lot of fun. Check it out.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
I say y'all on occasion . . .
Your Linguistic Profile: |
65% General American English |
20% Upper Midwestern |
10% Dixie |
5% Yankee |
0% Midwestern |
Monday, April 25, 2005
Purification Rituals
When I'm about to grade a stack of papers, I have a few purification rituals (read procrastination).
The first ritual is to make sure all the dishes in the sink are cleaned. This is to ensure that when I pour myself a pot of coffee, I will not be setting coffee mugs on other dishes, in dirty sinks, on scummy plates. Chances are, I'll use the mug over and over again.
The second ritual is for me to clear my desk. Clearing the desk takes place in phases. The first phase involves balancing the checkbook. I make sure all the ATM receipts, slips of paper, etc., are accounted for, properly tabulated, and shredded. I then pay the bills. Papers seem to come at the end of the month or during the middle of the month when bills start coming in. Bills are also responsible for most of the clutter on my desk.
The third part of my ritual is settling correspondence. E-mail piles up in my virtual mailbox, so I weed through the spam, old messages, listserve nonsense, and other stuff. Because of the high volume of computer viruses at my current institution, I often have to run a virus scanner which usually takes an hour or two.
Fourthly, I vacuum. The floors need to be cleaned. When I'm walking barefoot in the apartment, I don't want to step on pebbles, chiggers, stickers, bits of staples, nails, or any serrated edges of any kind. It's important to be comfortable when grading and I'm most comfortable in socks or bare feet. Vacuuming is a safety precaution.
Fifthly, I scan all the television channels to make sure nothing important is showing or will show. I start from channel 1 and go all the way up to the 400's where the cheesy music channels reside. One time I settled on a Curling tournament and sat transfixed, trying to figure out the rules. I still don't get that sport. It's basically bowling on ice, right?
Sixthly, I call mom.
Seventhly, I walk the dog. Brisk walks are neccesary for hunting dogs like Jake. If Jake does not get his walk, he whines like a two-year-old. If I want an optimum paper-grading environment, noise like dog-whine must be eliminated, so I take Jake on a two-hour walk through the Switchbacks.
Eighthly, I delete all the phone messages on my school phone.
Ninethly, I recycle all the magazines I've read. For some reason I keep getting Sports Illustrated and Entertainment Weekly. I think I got roped into subscribing to them when purchasing something for my digital camera. I, according to Papatya Bucak, am a danger-prone consumer.
Tenthly, I call dad. He and mom use different phones.
Finally, I settle down to grade papers. I'm still wondering why it takes me so darned long to finish. . .
The first ritual is to make sure all the dishes in the sink are cleaned. This is to ensure that when I pour myself a pot of coffee, I will not be setting coffee mugs on other dishes, in dirty sinks, on scummy plates. Chances are, I'll use the mug over and over again.
The second ritual is for me to clear my desk. Clearing the desk takes place in phases. The first phase involves balancing the checkbook. I make sure all the ATM receipts, slips of paper, etc., are accounted for, properly tabulated, and shredded. I then pay the bills. Papers seem to come at the end of the month or during the middle of the month when bills start coming in. Bills are also responsible for most of the clutter on my desk.
The third part of my ritual is settling correspondence. E-mail piles up in my virtual mailbox, so I weed through the spam, old messages, listserve nonsense, and other stuff. Because of the high volume of computer viruses at my current institution, I often have to run a virus scanner which usually takes an hour or two.
Fourthly, I vacuum. The floors need to be cleaned. When I'm walking barefoot in the apartment, I don't want to step on pebbles, chiggers, stickers, bits of staples, nails, or any serrated edges of any kind. It's important to be comfortable when grading and I'm most comfortable in socks or bare feet. Vacuuming is a safety precaution.
Fifthly, I scan all the television channels to make sure nothing important is showing or will show. I start from channel 1 and go all the way up to the 400's where the cheesy music channels reside. One time I settled on a Curling tournament and sat transfixed, trying to figure out the rules. I still don't get that sport. It's basically bowling on ice, right?
Sixthly, I call mom.
Seventhly, I walk the dog. Brisk walks are neccesary for hunting dogs like Jake. If Jake does not get his walk, he whines like a two-year-old. If I want an optimum paper-grading environment, noise like dog-whine must be eliminated, so I take Jake on a two-hour walk through the Switchbacks.
Eighthly, I delete all the phone messages on my school phone.
Ninethly, I recycle all the magazines I've read. For some reason I keep getting Sports Illustrated and Entertainment Weekly. I think I got roped into subscribing to them when purchasing something for my digital camera. I, according to Papatya Bucak, am a danger-prone consumer.
Tenthly, I call dad. He and mom use different phones.
Finally, I settle down to grade papers. I'm still wondering why it takes me so darned long to finish. . .
Friday, April 22, 2005
The NY Times on Poetry Contests, etc.
There's an article on the NY Times today, in the Books section. Here's the link.
You may have to register, but I don't think there's a cost.
You may have to register, but I don't think there's a cost.
The Students are Restless . . .
These days, teaching in the classroom has been extremely tough. Winters in Utica are harsh. They last from October all the way to mid-April. In our case this year, the Winter subsided in mid-April. We've had a glorious two weeks of sun and warmth. That said, the students have mentally checked out of the classroom. They're coming to class in their short-shorts and tube tops. They've stopped bringing their books if they show up at all.
They're now giggling in corners, passing notes, reverting into junior high kids.
All I can say is, the end is neigh.
They're now giggling in corners, passing notes, reverting into junior high kids.
All I can say is, the end is neigh.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Sarah and Jon
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Kundiman Gala 2005
Total Eclipse of the Heart: An 80's Prom Gala
Travel back to the past to your senior prom—it’s 1985 again!
Put on that Molly Ringwald pink, don that rhinestone glove and Get into the Groove.
Bring your main squeeze or your best friends. Or, better yet, come stag—awesome!
This multimedia Prom Gala will feature:
•Open Wine Bar, 80’s Cake Reception
•Dancing to Your Favorite 80’s and Hip-hop Beats.
•Performances by Award-winning Asian American Artists
•Favors: Choose between a Class Ring or a Satin Orchid Wrist Corsage
•Karaoke Election of Prom King & Queen
•Prom Pictures!
WHEN:
Friday, April 29, 2005
10 pm – 2 am
Open Wine Bar from 10 pm – Midnight, Cash Bar Afterwards
WHERE:
The Poetry Project
St. Mark’s Church
131 East 10th Street (2nd Avenue)
New York, NY 10003
HOW:
General Admission
Limited Advance Tickets are available for $35. Click on below button to purchase.
At the Door, Tickets will be $50
Poetry Project Members may pay $30 at the Door
Email info@kundiman.org to reserve your space. Must show proof of Project Membership at the Door
Why go to The Total Eclipse of the Heart Prom?
•All proceeds from the Prom will benefit Kundiman’s 2nd Annual Asian American Poets’ Mentorship Retreat at The University of Virginia.
•You want another chance to meet “Ducky”
•You were in the closet and went to prom with someone of the opposite sex (who had a crush on you).
•You can’t wait to “get physical” to Purple Rain and Take on Me.
•It’s Totally Rad!
This is activism for the fabulous and mischievous. For one night only, Kundiman, The Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church and today’s brightest Asian American talents offer you the chance to experience prom as it should be.
Def Poetry Jam poet, Regie Cabico will host.
Performer Bios
Named one of A. Magazine’s hottest up-and-coming Asian American stand-up comics, Regie Cabico is also a spoken word artist and poet. He won MTV’s Free Your Mind competition and appears on HBO’s Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry.
Ishle Yi Park is a Korean American woman who has been published in The Best American Poetry of 2003. She has been twice featured on HBO’s Def Poetry Jam, and performed her poetry on the NAACP Image Awards. She has a CD entitled “Work is Love,” and an upcoming book called “The Temperature of this Water,” which will be released this year. Ishle currently lives in New York.
Patrick Rosal is the author of Uprock Headspin Scramble And Dive. He has been a featured poet on BBC radio’s World Today.
Tina Chang is the author of Half-Lit Houses. Her poems have been included in several anthologies including Asian American Poetry: The Next Generation.
Lisa Ascalon, a Poet-in-Residence for Poets and Writers, has performed spoken word at Nuyorican Poets Café and Bronx Academy for Arts and Dance.
Travel back to the past to your senior prom—it’s 1985 again!
Put on that Molly Ringwald pink, don that rhinestone glove and Get into the Groove.
Bring your main squeeze or your best friends. Or, better yet, come stag—awesome!
This multimedia Prom Gala will feature:
•Open Wine Bar, 80’s Cake Reception
•Dancing to Your Favorite 80’s and Hip-hop Beats.
•Performances by Award-winning Asian American Artists
•Favors: Choose between a Class Ring or a Satin Orchid Wrist Corsage
•Karaoke Election of Prom King & Queen
•Prom Pictures!
WHEN:
Friday, April 29, 2005
10 pm – 2 am
Open Wine Bar from 10 pm – Midnight, Cash Bar Afterwards
WHERE:
The Poetry Project
St. Mark’s Church
131 East 10th Street (2nd Avenue)
New York, NY 10003
HOW:
General Admission
Limited Advance Tickets are available for $35. Click on below button to purchase.
At the Door, Tickets will be $50
Poetry Project Members may pay $30 at the Door
Email info@kundiman.org to reserve your space. Must show proof of Project Membership at the Door
Why go to The Total Eclipse of the Heart Prom?
•All proceeds from the Prom will benefit Kundiman’s 2nd Annual Asian American Poets’ Mentorship Retreat at The University of Virginia.
•You want another chance to meet “Ducky”
•You were in the closet and went to prom with someone of the opposite sex (who had a crush on you).
•You can’t wait to “get physical” to Purple Rain and Take on Me.
•It’s Totally Rad!
This is activism for the fabulous and mischievous. For one night only, Kundiman, The Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church and today’s brightest Asian American talents offer you the chance to experience prom as it should be.
Def Poetry Jam poet, Regie Cabico will host.
Performer Bios
Named one of A. Magazine’s hottest up-and-coming Asian American stand-up comics, Regie Cabico is also a spoken word artist and poet. He won MTV’s Free Your Mind competition and appears on HBO’s Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry.
Ishle Yi Park is a Korean American woman who has been published in The Best American Poetry of 2003. She has been twice featured on HBO’s Def Poetry Jam, and performed her poetry on the NAACP Image Awards. She has a CD entitled “Work is Love,” and an upcoming book called “The Temperature of this Water,” which will be released this year. Ishle currently lives in New York.
Patrick Rosal is the author of Uprock Headspin Scramble And Dive. He has been a featured poet on BBC radio’s World Today.
Tina Chang is the author of Half-Lit Houses. Her poems have been included in several anthologies including Asian American Poetry: The Next Generation.
Lisa Ascalon, a Poet-in-Residence for Poets and Writers, has performed spoken word at Nuyorican Poets Café and Bronx Academy for Arts and Dance.
Pat "Ladies Love" Rosal
The rascal himself. Handsome, yeah? And who are the two lovelies next to him?
Joseph and Meena
Joseph Legaspi, Program Coordinator for Kundiman, with Meena Alexander, one of the featured readers from the 2004 Gala.
Pictures from the Kundiman Gala 2004
Monday, April 18, 2005
Friday, April 15, 2005
Book Quiz
You're The Guns of August!
by Barbara Tuchman
Though you're interested in war, what you really want to know is what
causes war. You're out to expose imperialism, militarism, and nationalism for what they
really are. Nevertheless, you're always living in the past and have a hard time dealing
with what's going on today. You're also far more focused on Europe than anywhere else in
the world. A fitting motto for you might be "Guns do kill, but so can
diplomats."
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Pulled this from Charles
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Plea
This is taken from a message board. It's a great organization and they need the help, so if you can offer aid in any way, be it monetary or publicity, please do so.
Dear Flipsters—
I’m writing to you on behalf of Kundiman, a 501c3 non-profit literary company dedicated to the discovery and cultivation of emerging Asian-American poets. One of our main programs is a Summer Workshop Retreat where nationally renowned Asian American poets conduct workshops and provide one-on-one mentorship sessions with participants. These year’s faculty include: Lawson Inada and our own Aimee Nezhukumatathil & Patrick Rosal. More information on the 2005 Retreat can be found here: Click here
I’m writing because 6 of our talented participants cannot afford the $300 for room & board for this Retreat. (Kundiman does not charge for workshops and programming) As Kundiman is such a new non-profit, we are not able to provide the type of financial aid we would like to be capable of.
If you are interested in sponsoring a scholarship for one of our 6 poets, please let me know at sarahg@kundiman.org $300 is all that it takes. Kundiman will name the scholarship according to your wishes. Your scholarship will be published on the Kundiman website. And, after the Retreat, you will receive a poem and letter from your sponsored poet. As most of you who are writers know, most poets receive little financial remuneration for their efforts. These emerging writers are coming to this craft for love of the word and the power of the word. Please help support this next generation of dedicated and enterprising Asian American writers—who are so worthy of your attention and support.
Best,
Sarah
Dear Flipsters—
I’m writing to you on behalf of Kundiman, a 501c3 non-profit literary company dedicated to the discovery and cultivation of emerging Asian-American poets. One of our main programs is a Summer Workshop Retreat where nationally renowned Asian American poets conduct workshops and provide one-on-one mentorship sessions with participants. These year’s faculty include: Lawson Inada and our own Aimee Nezhukumatathil & Patrick Rosal. More information on the 2005 Retreat can be found here: Click here
I’m writing because 6 of our talented participants cannot afford the $300 for room & board for this Retreat. (Kundiman does not charge for workshops and programming) As Kundiman is such a new non-profit, we are not able to provide the type of financial aid we would like to be capable of.
If you are interested in sponsoring a scholarship for one of our 6 poets, please let me know at sarahg@kundiman.org $300 is all that it takes. Kundiman will name the scholarship according to your wishes. Your scholarship will be published on the Kundiman website. And, after the Retreat, you will receive a poem and letter from your sponsored poet. As most of you who are writers know, most poets receive little financial remuneration for their efforts. These emerging writers are coming to this craft for love of the word and the power of the word. Please help support this next generation of dedicated and enterprising Asian American writers—who are so worthy of your attention and support.
Best,
Sarah
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Monday, April 11, 2005
Moving soon.
Don't know if y'all know this, but I'm going to be headed out West, soon. Figured I'd make it an official announcement. Yes, it's true. I'm moving to Washington (state). So any of you West-Coasties want to hang out, give me a shout!
Moving sucks, in general. I hate moving. I think, in my adult life, I've moved a total of eight times. All of them were painful moves. I hate looking for a new place to live. I hate packing. I hate gathering up enough newspapers and magazines to use for packaging materials. I hate unpacking. I hate connecting up utilities. I hate driving with all my stuff and worrying about what condition they'll be in once I reach my destination.
When I moved from Arizona to Pennsylvania, I rented a Ryder truck. I towed my own truck on the back of this thing. On top of that, my dad and Rosie, the wonder pug (RIP) rode in the front with me. The truck had no cassette deck and a broken radio.
Anyway, I think I'm getting enough money to hire movers. Praise movers. Praise them.
Moving sucks, in general. I hate moving. I think, in my adult life, I've moved a total of eight times. All of them were painful moves. I hate looking for a new place to live. I hate packing. I hate gathering up enough newspapers and magazines to use for packaging materials. I hate unpacking. I hate connecting up utilities. I hate driving with all my stuff and worrying about what condition they'll be in once I reach my destination.
When I moved from Arizona to Pennsylvania, I rented a Ryder truck. I towed my own truck on the back of this thing. On top of that, my dad and Rosie, the wonder pug (RIP) rode in the front with me. The truck had no cassette deck and a broken radio.
Anyway, I think I'm getting enough money to hire movers. Praise movers. Praise them.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Dear Random
The filing cabinet is overrun with magnitized momentos. Cuban postcard, Cuban postcard, Moroccan lamp.
I've tried to be magnanimous with my books, but I like possession. The greatest gift a person could give me would be a label-maker.
Here is my thesaurus. Here is my chair. This is my telephone with its bright blue buttons.
The window to my office shows my dowdiness. My jeans are from yesteryear. So is my mug.
I have an earache which makes me hum.
Students knock at improper moments--food in mouth, teacup.
Friends say coffee is my oeuvre. I make a mean vat of Supremo.
I've tried to be magnanimous with my books, but I like possession. The greatest gift a person could give me would be a label-maker.
Here is my thesaurus. Here is my chair. This is my telephone with its bright blue buttons.
The window to my office shows my dowdiness. My jeans are from yesteryear. So is my mug.
I have an earache which makes me hum.
Students knock at improper moments--food in mouth, teacup.
Friends say coffee is my oeuvre. I make a mean vat of Supremo.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Pulitzer Winners
This is from The Pulitzer Prizes website:
Pulitzers for Literary Arts:
FICTION
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (Farrar, Straus & Giroux)
DRAMA
Doubt, a parable by John Patrick Shanley
HISTORY
Washington's Crossing by David Hackett Fischer (Oxford University Press)
BIOGRAPHY
de Kooning: An American Master by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan (Alfred A. Knopf)
POETRY
Delights & Shadows by Ted Kooser (Copper Canyon Press)
GENERAL NON-FICTION
Ghost Wars by Steve Coll (The Penguin Press)
MUSIC
Second Concerto for Orchestra by Steven Stucky (Theodore Presser Company)
Pulitzers for Literary Arts:
FICTION
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (Farrar, Straus & Giroux)
DRAMA
Doubt, a parable by John Patrick Shanley
HISTORY
Washington's Crossing by David Hackett Fischer (Oxford University Press)
BIOGRAPHY
de Kooning: An American Master by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan (Alfred A. Knopf)
POETRY
Delights & Shadows by Ted Kooser (Copper Canyon Press)
GENERAL NON-FICTION
Ghost Wars by Steve Coll (The Penguin Press)
MUSIC
Second Concerto for Orchestra by Steven Stucky (Theodore Presser Company)
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Post AWP Notes
1. Lost luggage on return trip. Currently up waiting for the delivery person to ring my doorbell.
2. Still sick. Was sick Wednesday, got worse Thursday, got better Friday, got worse Saturday, much better today. Still sick, though.
3. Blogroll: Paul Guest, Aimee Nezhukumatathil (spell her full name program people), C. Dale Young, C.R. Jensen, Jennifer Thornton, Nick Carbo, Eileen Tabios, David Hernandez, Janet Holmes, Victoria Chang.
4. Rain.
5. Crepes are good for dinner.
6. More people reading from papers than I ever remember at AWP. I hope it's not a new trend.
7. Book fair drive-bys done: 22
8. Books purchased: 15
9. Journals obtained: 1 (It was free, and don't give me grief. I subscribe to a bunch)
10. Virgil Suarez had another of his famous random parties. I'm not sure if the cops came this time.
11. Alcoholic beverages consumed: 3 beers (HA HA HA C.DALE! Missed me!)
12. Cool people to chat with: lost count by Thursday.
13. Tired. Very tired.
2. Still sick. Was sick Wednesday, got worse Thursday, got better Friday, got worse Saturday, much better today. Still sick, though.
3. Blogroll: Paul Guest, Aimee Nezhukumatathil (spell her full name program people), C. Dale Young, C.R. Jensen, Jennifer Thornton, Nick Carbo, Eileen Tabios, David Hernandez, Janet Holmes, Victoria Chang.
4. Rain.
5. Crepes are good for dinner.
6. More people reading from papers than I ever remember at AWP. I hope it's not a new trend.
7. Book fair drive-bys done: 22
8. Books purchased: 15
9. Journals obtained: 1 (It was free, and don't give me grief. I subscribe to a bunch)
10. Virgil Suarez had another of his famous random parties. I'm not sure if the cops came this time.
11. Alcoholic beverages consumed: 3 beers (HA HA HA C.DALE! Missed me!)
12. Cool people to chat with: lost count by Thursday.
13. Tired. Very tired.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Taxes, taxes, taxes . . .
I got my refund the other day. Big smile!
The sad thing about this refund . . . it's not really my money. It's going straight to debt-payment. Big frown.
I've learned a number of things from my tax accountant, though. I've learned that I'm not declaring enough of my purchases and I clearly need to be more meticulous in my record-keeping. In one instance, I had forgotten that I had bought bookshelves in the Fall. Lucky for me, the accountant asked me if I bought books and whether I had purchased shelves to house those books.
Hell of an accountant, I must say.
The sad thing about this refund . . . it's not really my money. It's going straight to debt-payment. Big frown.
I've learned a number of things from my tax accountant, though. I've learned that I'm not declaring enough of my purchases and I clearly need to be more meticulous in my record-keeping. In one instance, I had forgotten that I had bought bookshelves in the Fall. Lucky for me, the accountant asked me if I bought books and whether I had purchased shelves to house those books.
Hell of an accountant, I must say.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Easter weekend
Meredith received a basket filled with Easter chocolates from her mother the other day. The basket was lined with green plastic faux-grass that sparkled when you tilted it under our dining room lights. The basket's smartly situated on the table that's between the entrance to the hallway and the entrance to the living room. We have to pass by and dip our hands into the shiny faux-grass for the foil-wrapped chocolate eggs.
My parents never gave me Easter baskets. Instead, Easter was about church and going to three-hour-long masses. It was definitely not one of my favorite holidays. Mass was presided over by a humorless man who was Scottish. His booming criticisms of modernity shook the panes of stain glass. I hated going to mass. I hated it even more on Easter Sunday because of the length of the mass and the knowledge that after mass I would participate in the town's annual "Easter Eggstravaganza."
The one semblance of a "traditional" Easter in my household would arrive wheen my parents allowed me to participate in the annual "Easter Egg Hunt." Other kids got baskets and pet bunnies, and all that, but my parents were pragmatists. "What do Easter baskets have to do with god?" they asked. I never answered back because I could never think of a viable reason. And anyway, Easter baskets and Easter candies were never a part of their culture. A few blocks down, Ontario High School football field would be transformed into a mass of agitated five to ten-year-old bodies. Sprawled out before us were several thousand plastic eggs. This was no hunt . . . this was gladitorial combat. In October, I had witnessed one young football player's arm break and hang at his side after getting tackled. Teeth were knocked out on this field. Shoulders were dislocated. Now we were all young boys and girls on this same field, prepared to show the other boys and girls no mercy. High up above the lawn, parents would sit and gossip. Our payoff would be a sugar-induced high that would last for five hours. The payoff for the parents? A free viewing of the carnage.
The officials for the event lined us up at the edge of the track. The plastic eggs looked like they were melting in the sun. Once the starter gun fired, we were off, scooping the pastel-colored plastics from out of the grass and into our faux-wicker baskets. They were hot to the touch, but we could all tell that something was inside of each of them. Each of us had our individualized dream of wealth and power. Perhaps they weren't filled with chocolates. . . perhaps they were filled with cash?One girl had fallen and scrapped her knee in the grass. She was still in her church-going Easter clothes and her once-white dress was now a series of grassy smears and soil. The contents of her basket spilled all over the grass as swarms of children dove for the eggs tumbling in every direction. They looked like little piranhas we had seen on film during a biology class, tearing into a wild boar who tried to cross the Amazon. Bits of bone and the boar's snout would bob to the surface, then sink into the dark waters.
I was never one of the kids who grabbed the most eggs. Additionally, I was never the kid who was too slow, leaving the field empty-handed. I always had just enough eggs to take home. Invariably, the chocolate inside of the eggs would be soft, melting right out of their foil.
Easter weekend's coming and I'm helping myself to Meredith's basket. There's a pile of unpeeled chocolate egg wrappings making their tinny sounds as I set them down. I'll probably have to refill her basket at some point . . . Maybe I'll get her another basket.
My parents never gave me Easter baskets. Instead, Easter was about church and going to three-hour-long masses. It was definitely not one of my favorite holidays. Mass was presided over by a humorless man who was Scottish. His booming criticisms of modernity shook the panes of stain glass. I hated going to mass. I hated it even more on Easter Sunday because of the length of the mass and the knowledge that after mass I would participate in the town's annual "Easter Eggstravaganza."
The one semblance of a "traditional" Easter in my household would arrive wheen my parents allowed me to participate in the annual "Easter Egg Hunt." Other kids got baskets and pet bunnies, and all that, but my parents were pragmatists. "What do Easter baskets have to do with god?" they asked. I never answered back because I could never think of a viable reason. And anyway, Easter baskets and Easter candies were never a part of their culture. A few blocks down, Ontario High School football field would be transformed into a mass of agitated five to ten-year-old bodies. Sprawled out before us were several thousand plastic eggs. This was no hunt . . . this was gladitorial combat. In October, I had witnessed one young football player's arm break and hang at his side after getting tackled. Teeth were knocked out on this field. Shoulders were dislocated. Now we were all young boys and girls on this same field, prepared to show the other boys and girls no mercy. High up above the lawn, parents would sit and gossip. Our payoff would be a sugar-induced high that would last for five hours. The payoff for the parents? A free viewing of the carnage.
The officials for the event lined us up at the edge of the track. The plastic eggs looked like they were melting in the sun. Once the starter gun fired, we were off, scooping the pastel-colored plastics from out of the grass and into our faux-wicker baskets. They were hot to the touch, but we could all tell that something was inside of each of them. Each of us had our individualized dream of wealth and power. Perhaps they weren't filled with chocolates. . . perhaps they were filled with cash?One girl had fallen and scrapped her knee in the grass. She was still in her church-going Easter clothes and her once-white dress was now a series of grassy smears and soil. The contents of her basket spilled all over the grass as swarms of children dove for the eggs tumbling in every direction. They looked like little piranhas we had seen on film during a biology class, tearing into a wild boar who tried to cross the Amazon. Bits of bone and the boar's snout would bob to the surface, then sink into the dark waters.
I was never one of the kids who grabbed the most eggs. Additionally, I was never the kid who was too slow, leaving the field empty-handed. I always had just enough eggs to take home. Invariably, the chocolate inside of the eggs would be soft, melting right out of their foil.
Easter weekend's coming and I'm helping myself to Meredith's basket. There's a pile of unpeeled chocolate egg wrappings making their tinny sounds as I set them down. I'll probably have to refill her basket at some point . . . Maybe I'll get her another basket.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Judging books by their covers
I do this, and I know Eduardo had a post about this awhile back.
Anyway, since AWP is just around the bend, I've been thinking about the book selling industry and how poetry is marketed. I had an interesting discussion with Karl Kageff, over at Southern Illinois University Press, and he said poetry books are very expensive to make with little return in profit. He spoke with me about the artwork and the imagery on the covers . . . he also mentioned the paper and the very unique editing needs that a collection of poetry has, as opposed to an academic book (what SIUP is used to publishing).
He's right, of course. We as poets are the top consumers of poetry books and there aren't that many of us (although it might seem like it come book-contest season). We also produce gorgeous books compared to these: Clicky!
Anyway, since AWP is just around the bend, I've been thinking about the book selling industry and how poetry is marketed. I had an interesting discussion with Karl Kageff, over at Southern Illinois University Press, and he said poetry books are very expensive to make with little return in profit. He spoke with me about the artwork and the imagery on the covers . . . he also mentioned the paper and the very unique editing needs that a collection of poetry has, as opposed to an academic book (what SIUP is used to publishing).
He's right, of course. We as poets are the top consumers of poetry books and there aren't that many of us (although it might seem like it come book-contest season). We also produce gorgeous books compared to these: Clicky!
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
AWP is dangerous for the pocketbook.
Every year that I have attended AWP (since 1997) I have left the conference with an armful of books and journals. It's deadly. It's dangerous. I have to admit that I go to very few of the readings and panels. Rather, I hang out with friends and dine at the various restaurants. I cruise the book fair at least twenty times, and I hang out at the hotel bar (I don't drink much, but it seems y'all do). This year I have been asked to be a bit more . . . careful with the finances. So . . . if I'm doing any one-stop shopping, where should I go? Any of you setting up tables at the book fair? Got any discounts? ;-)
Monday, March 21, 2005
Spring!!!
Spring
Nothing is so beautiful as spring--
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden.--Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
-Gerard Manley Hopkins
Nothing is so beautiful as spring--
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden.--Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.
-Gerard Manley Hopkins
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Serenity Now!
Here's my happy place. I go there when I have to grade papers. It takes me much longer to get my grading done when I go there. . .
By the way, this is the beach in Nerja, Spain. It's gorgeous there. Go when you can!
By the way, this is the beach in Nerja, Spain. It's gorgeous there. Go when you can!
PAPERS!!
Yes friends. Spring Break is never really a break for college professors.
Alas, this has taken me away from blogging. Please understand.
By the way, this is a true example of some of the work I need to finish by Sunday. Spring Break ends on Monday. *sob*
Alas, this has taken me away from blogging. Please understand.
By the way, this is a true example of some of the work I need to finish by Sunday. Spring Break ends on Monday. *sob*
Friday, March 18, 2005
Friday, March 11, 2005
When students analyze your poem . . .
So I went to Union College to give a reading last night. First of all, props to Professor Channette Romero for bringing me down. Channette, if you're reading, your students are fantastic and I had a great time.
Now, as far as the heading for this entry . . . her students used my book as one of their required books for the course. In fact, some students wrote papers on my book.
The sensation was flat-out bizarre. So then, when I sat down and started conversing with the students the following conversations started taking place:
/Hyperbole mode on
Student 1: So, can you tell me about your obsession with religious symbolism and religious terminology?
Me: Uhhhhh . . .
Student 1: Because, it seems that your defrocked Catholic thematic concerns are pervasive throughout this text. Care to comment?
Me: Uhhhhh . . .
Student 2: Yes, I noticed this too. Tell me about the halo symbols throughout? Are they really halos?
Me: Yes. I don't know. . . yes?
Student 3: And in another passage, your character, Fidelito, miraculously ascends . . . heavenward? How can that be because there's no direct mention of god in any of the pages.
Me: There's not?
Students 1-4: No.
Student 4: You also have your character return two poems later, after his ascencion. Is he a Christ symbol?
Me: Yes?
Student 4: Hmmmm. . . That's what I thought. But that's weird, because most of the religious gestures that your character makes are very . . . tribal? Is that correct? Maybe superstitious without the idea of a church organization would be a better way of putting it.
Student 2: Yes, because your character worships things like the wind and the rain, you know?
Me: Ok.
/Hyperbole mode off
Ok, in all seriousness, it was flattering and alarming to have had my work read so closely. I tell you, I discovered a lot about my poetic obsessions sitting in that class.
Now, as far as the heading for this entry . . . her students used my book as one of their required books for the course. In fact, some students wrote papers on my book.
The sensation was flat-out bizarre. So then, when I sat down and started conversing with the students the following conversations started taking place:
/Hyperbole mode on
Student 1: So, can you tell me about your obsession with religious symbolism and religious terminology?
Me: Uhhhhh . . .
Student 1: Because, it seems that your defrocked Catholic thematic concerns are pervasive throughout this text. Care to comment?
Me: Uhhhhh . . .
Student 2: Yes, I noticed this too. Tell me about the halo symbols throughout? Are they really halos?
Me: Yes. I don't know. . . yes?
Student 3: And in another passage, your character, Fidelito, miraculously ascends . . . heavenward? How can that be because there's no direct mention of god in any of the pages.
Me: There's not?
Students 1-4: No.
Student 4: You also have your character return two poems later, after his ascencion. Is he a Christ symbol?
Me: Yes?
Student 4: Hmmmm. . . That's what I thought. But that's weird, because most of the religious gestures that your character makes are very . . . tribal? Is that correct? Maybe superstitious without the idea of a church organization would be a better way of putting it.
Student 2: Yes, because your character worships things like the wind and the rain, you know?
Me: Ok.
/Hyperbole mode off
Ok, in all seriousness, it was flattering and alarming to have had my work read so closely. I tell you, I discovered a lot about my poetic obsessions sitting in that class.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Evil ice
Saturday, Meredith and I opened up some windows to knock down several large icicles hanging precariously from our rain gutters. Before that, though, I attempted to knock them down from the street-level by hurling snow balls at them. That method only knocked down some of the smaller ones. Further, it severely damaged my ego. My pitching arm is definitely not as accurate or as strong as it used to be. The major culprit was an icicle that was roughly five-feet long and about as thick as a human torso. It was extremely dangerous. . . I had visions of walking under the thing and getting brained by it. I also imagined backing up my truck and having the thing pierce through my roof. What's more is that all the residue of the icicle was forming a mound of ice on the driveway, making it treacherous walking.
Anyway, I opened up the windows, grabbed a broom, and tried to whack the icicles off their ledges. It was more difficult than anticipated. I was literally winded after my efforts. Try balancing half your body outside a window while you're swinging away with a broom. It's not easy.
The forecast calls for more snow this week. *sigh*
In other news, I've got a reading at Union College this coming Thursday.
Anyway, I opened up the windows, grabbed a broom, and tried to whack the icicles off their ledges. It was more difficult than anticipated. I was literally winded after my efforts. Try balancing half your body outside a window while you're swinging away with a broom. It's not easy.
The forecast calls for more snow this week. *sigh*
In other news, I've got a reading at Union College this coming Thursday.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Thoughts of vacation
*sigh* After all the snow that hit us last night, I've been having thoughts of my summer vacation. Last summer, Meredith and I went to Spain and Morrocco. We had a HELLUVA time.
Anyway, I shoveled a ton of snow (we got about five inches of snowfall last night), and while doing this work, my thoughts returned to Sevilla.
Ah! Sevilla! We drank Sangria and had Tapas while watching the other tourists. Several bands wandered by while we were soaking in the sun. Every once in awhile, the bells from La Giralda would boom.
*double sigh* One more week until Spring Break, Oliver. . . One more week.
Anyway, I shoveled a ton of snow (we got about five inches of snowfall last night), and while doing this work, my thoughts returned to Sevilla.
Ah! Sevilla! We drank Sangria and had Tapas while watching the other tourists. Several bands wandered by while we were soaking in the sun. Every once in awhile, the bells from La Giralda would boom.
*double sigh* One more week until Spring Break, Oliver. . . One more week.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Bad Haiku . . .
This one's from a student. For those of you in Tennessee, I completely apologize. This haiku in no way reflects my attitudes towards your state:
Tennessee is lame
don't let your best friend go there
because he will die.
Tennessee is lame
don't let your best friend go there
because he will die.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
On this date . . .
. . . my mother says I was born at 10AM. My father claims that it was the hardest hours of his life. This is probably the reason why baldness in our family has passed on down to me.
Pisces have more fun.
Pisces have more fun.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
It ain't a reading unless . . .
. . . someone walks out. And someone DID walk out of Patrick Rosal's reading. In fact, they walked out of the reading seven lines into the first poem.
I've been battling these "easily-offended" types who keep returning to the reading series I'm currently running. Why they return, I'll never know. Anyway, this is directed towards the man who gave me suggestions on how to run the reading series:
My co-coordinator and I have decided that despite your recommendations, we will continue to have readings by authors who are Black, Gay, Chicano, Asian, Jewish, Native American, Risk-Takers, Mayhem-Makers, and Outsiders. We will also happily invite people who write poems and stories where there is sadness, violence, grief, death, general discomfort. We regret that we cannot provide you a solid venue for your anesthetized version of entertainment, but we can recommend a decent pediatric office where you can read Highlights and spend hours on end circling the hidden items in the "Find the Hidden Objects!" page.
I have no interest in playing Muzak over the loud-speakers for an hour for the benefit of said "easily-offended" types.
Now. . . disclaimer aside, Patrick rocked. The students loved him and many of them walked away excited about poetry. You should've seen the line of folks anxious to speak with him after his reading. The audience did sing-alongs and hooted and hollered after almost every poem.
Good show, brother!
I've been battling these "easily-offended" types who keep returning to the reading series I'm currently running. Why they return, I'll never know. Anyway, this is directed towards the man who gave me suggestions on how to run the reading series:
My co-coordinator and I have decided that despite your recommendations, we will continue to have readings by authors who are Black, Gay, Chicano, Asian, Jewish, Native American, Risk-Takers, Mayhem-Makers, and Outsiders. We will also happily invite people who write poems and stories where there is sadness, violence, grief, death, general discomfort. We regret that we cannot provide you a solid venue for your anesthetized version of entertainment, but we can recommend a decent pediatric office where you can read Highlights and spend hours on end circling the hidden items in the "Find the Hidden Objects!" page.
I have no interest in playing Muzak over the loud-speakers for an hour for the benefit of said "easily-offended" types.
Now. . . disclaimer aside, Patrick rocked. The students loved him and many of them walked away excited about poetry. You should've seen the line of folks anxious to speak with him after his reading. The audience did sing-alongs and hooted and hollered after almost every poem.
Good show, brother!
Friday, February 18, 2005
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Jake vs. the AKC champ
There's no contest, really. Our dog is clearly the more flexible of the two . . . and flexibility is key for dogs, you know. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is for a dog to be flexible.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
The Reb Livingston watch and Kundiman stuff
The countdown for Reb begins. Wish her well!
Also, Eduardo's talking about my good buddy, Jon Pineda who's not only "hot" but he's a fantastic person, poet, and father. Anyway, Eduardo also mentioned the Kundiman retreat that's coming up in July.
I'll be there again with my digital camera and several chips-worth of pictures. I think Jon Pineda's going to be there . . . we're trying to talk Barbara Jane into coming. It was a blast last year. For your edifiication, here's a look back at last years retreat.
Kudos must go out to Sarah Gambito and Joseph Legaspi AGAIN, for having the courage to dream and build.
Also, Eduardo's talking about my good buddy, Jon Pineda who's not only "hot" but he's a fantastic person, poet, and father. Anyway, Eduardo also mentioned the Kundiman retreat that's coming up in July.
I'll be there again with my digital camera and several chips-worth of pictures. I think Jon Pineda's going to be there . . . we're trying to talk Barbara Jane into coming. It was a blast last year. For your edifiication, here's a look back at last years retreat.
Kudos must go out to Sarah Gambito and Joseph Legaspi AGAIN, for having the courage to dream and build.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Winter weather yo-yos
The mercury's been going up and down this past week. Yesterday morning as I was walking to class, frigid gusts of air kept pushing the powdery snow all over the place. Stupidly, the school was snow-blowing while this was taking place, so more of the stuff was blowing around in front of doors, walkways, etc..
Today, however, it's a balmy 40 degrees and slightly rainy. It's a lousy day to run Jake, but I'll have to, otherwise he'll drive Meredith and I bonkers tonight with his incessant whining.
I predict we'll get more of the yo-yo weather through the weekend and all I want is a stable high of 40. Lord, give me 40 degree weather from now until April . . . please.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Friday, February 11, 2005
Loves . . . in the spirit of Saint Valentine's day.
1. Early morning coffee on a sunny day with the newspaper across my lap.
2. Finishing all my work before the weekend approaches.
3. Pressing "Print" after finishing a poem (thank you Aimee).
4. The clunk of the mailman's shoes on my front porch.
5. A bag of popcorn, no butter, at the movie theater.
6. Cooking a meal and having people go for second and third helpings.
7. Rain gutters with flowing water on the roadside.
8. The smell of new books and peeling off price tags from those new books.
9. Being able to run one more mile without being tired.
10. The last traces of snow in Upstate New York.
11. Video games.
12. Hotel towels and free chocolates.
13. Lying on a clean floor reading magazines for hours while listening to the radio.
14. Finishing the last of a batch of papers for grading.
2. Finishing all my work before the weekend approaches.
3. Pressing "Print" after finishing a poem (thank you Aimee).
4. The clunk of the mailman's shoes on my front porch.
5. A bag of popcorn, no butter, at the movie theater.
6. Cooking a meal and having people go for second and third helpings.
7. Rain gutters with flowing water on the roadside.
8. The smell of new books and peeling off price tags from those new books.
9. Being able to run one more mile without being tired.
10. The last traces of snow in Upstate New York.
11. Video games.
12. Hotel towels and free chocolates.
13. Lying on a clean floor reading magazines for hours while listening to the radio.
14. Finishing the last of a batch of papers for grading.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Monday, February 07, 2005
Post Super Bowl musings
1. I liked the "Saturday Night Fever" Pepsi commercial.
2. The .com commercials were tiring.
3. I loved the Ameriquest commercials. They made me giggle.
4. Donovan McNabb was erratic. He was throwing high balls the whole game.
5. If Deion Branch didn't get the MVP, my second pick would've been Rodney Harrison. Definitely not Tom Brady, though Brady was very effective.
6. The Eagles wasted way too much time in the final four minutes of the game.
7. The half time show was . . . uninspiring.
8. There are far too many pre-game shows and far too many talking heads.
9. Cheetohs are my favorite salty snack. Funions are a close second and Cool Ranch Doritos are a close third. Health food? What's that?
10. The running game for either team wasn't the deciding factor of the game as most sports writers had anticipated.
11. Terrell Owens looked fine. I was tired of the commentators talking about him and circling him every time he lined up.
12. Why is there a correlation between sporting events and unhealthy eating? See 9.
13. The Quiznos Baby will not inspire me to buy a Quiznos sandwich. If I see that talking child in a Quiznos restaurant, I will run very far and very fast.
2. The .com commercials were tiring.
3. I loved the Ameriquest commercials. They made me giggle.
4. Donovan McNabb was erratic. He was throwing high balls the whole game.
5. If Deion Branch didn't get the MVP, my second pick would've been Rodney Harrison. Definitely not Tom Brady, though Brady was very effective.
6. The Eagles wasted way too much time in the final four minutes of the game.
7. The half time show was . . . uninspiring.
8. There are far too many pre-game shows and far too many talking heads.
9. Cheetohs are my favorite salty snack. Funions are a close second and Cool Ranch Doritos are a close third. Health food? What's that?
10. The running game for either team wasn't the deciding factor of the game as most sports writers had anticipated.
11. Terrell Owens looked fine. I was tired of the commentators talking about him and circling him every time he lined up.
12. Why is there a correlation between sporting events and unhealthy eating? See 9.
13. The Quiznos Baby will not inspire me to buy a Quiznos sandwich. If I see that talking child in a Quiznos restaurant, I will run very far and very fast.
Friday, February 04, 2005
What kind of poet . . .
. . . watches the Super Bowl? I'll admit it. I love watching football, and I never miss the Super Bowl. Rest assured, I'll be watchhing this Sunday.
Does that make me a bad person? Is my appreciation of art and beauty called into question with every Flare, Slant, or Draw-Play?
I wonder if there are any contemporary poets out there who used to don the pads?
Last semester, Thom Ward came to my school to give a reading. He boldly talked about lacing up his cleats and kicking @$$ before a shocked auditorium. He still pumps iron, etc., but he mentioned how he suffers from gimpy knees because of his football days.
I also had the honor of hanging out at Austin Hummell's house while I was doing a visiting teaching gig up in Northern Michigan University. We were watching the NBA playoffs and snarfing macadamia nuts while looking over poems. I guess the two can happen simultaneously--art and physical grace.
Anyway, I'm a poet who so happens to be a sports nut. I'm going to be watching Super Bowl XXXIX for the sport, not for the commercials.
Does that make me a bad person? Is my appreciation of art and beauty called into question with every Flare, Slant, or Draw-Play?
I wonder if there are any contemporary poets out there who used to don the pads?
Last semester, Thom Ward came to my school to give a reading. He boldly talked about lacing up his cleats and kicking @$$ before a shocked auditorium. He still pumps iron, etc., but he mentioned how he suffers from gimpy knees because of his football days.
I also had the honor of hanging out at Austin Hummell's house while I was doing a visiting teaching gig up in Northern Michigan University. We were watching the NBA playoffs and snarfing macadamia nuts while looking over poems. I guess the two can happen simultaneously--art and physical grace.
Anyway, I'm a poet who so happens to be a sports nut. I'm going to be watching Super Bowl XXXIX for the sport, not for the commercials.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
The "Up-note" reading voice
Saw this and this and this.
Me four. I must say, though, someone who DOESN'T read in the "Up-note" style is coming to read at my college. Can't wait for blogland's very own Patrick Rosal to throw down!
Me four. I must say, though, someone who DOESN'T read in the "Up-note" style is coming to read at my college. Can't wait for blogland's very own Patrick Rosal to throw down!
Monday, January 31, 2005
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Friday, January 28, 2005
Nerd Alert, redux
I log my submissions to journals as well as to book contests via Microsoft Excel.
In my spreadsheet, I compute the costs of submitting to book contests. So far in book contests entry fees alone, I've spent close to $300.00. That's not including things like postage and paper.
But that's not what I'm here to talk to you about today . . . I love my spreadsheet.
That is all.
In my spreadsheet, I compute the costs of submitting to book contests. So far in book contests entry fees alone, I've spent close to $300.00. That's not including things like postage and paper.
But that's not what I'm here to talk to you about today . . . I love my spreadsheet.
That is all.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
I'm digging my new schedule
I love having my Tuesdays and Thursdays off. For the past four years, I haven't had a day off during the academic work week. Basically I taught Monday through Friday. This semester's different. I'm on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule and the two days off makes a huge difference. I feel so much more rested and productive.
This morning I graded all the student homework, paid some bills, wrote some letters, sent some poems out to journals, sent my manuscript out to contests, and I wrote. Wow!
Only thing is, I haven't showered yet. *shudder* Better get that bit checked off my TO DO list.
This morning I graded all the student homework, paid some bills, wrote some letters, sent some poems out to journals, sent my manuscript out to contests, and I wrote. Wow!
Only thing is, I haven't showered yet. *shudder* Better get that bit checked off my TO DO list.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
A dog loose in the neighborhood
I walked Jake this morning, before school, and a stray dog followed us home. It was a funny-looking dog. She had the coloring of a German Shepherd, but she had a patch of white under her chest and really floppy ears. She'd jump from snow bank to snow bank while Jake whimpered. I wanted to bring her in because it was cold.
This morning wasn't the first time I had seen her. She's a bit of a ghost in our neighborhood, prowling around at night, tipping over garbage cans and tearing up the trash bags left out for collection on Wednesday. It was the aftermath of a garbage night so that's probably why she was around the neighborhood this morning.
I let her get a whiff of Jake and vice versa. She was really skittish. She'd come up, paw Jake on the neck, and then recoil as soon as Jake would make a move or as soon as I said something.
I was running late from all the commotion, so I had to drag my reluctant dog into the house. The stray just stood outside our door, watching us go up the stairs. Maybe she'll come around this afternoon.
This morning wasn't the first time I had seen her. She's a bit of a ghost in our neighborhood, prowling around at night, tipping over garbage cans and tearing up the trash bags left out for collection on Wednesday. It was the aftermath of a garbage night so that's probably why she was around the neighborhood this morning.
I let her get a whiff of Jake and vice versa. She was really skittish. She'd come up, paw Jake on the neck, and then recoil as soon as Jake would make a move or as soon as I said something.
I was running late from all the commotion, so I had to drag my reluctant dog into the house. The stray just stood outside our door, watching us go up the stairs. Maybe she'll come around this afternoon.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Cool and nerdy Christmas gifts I'm still enjoying
Ok, I have to say that I'm STILL playing with my new Christmas toys. Among my favorites are the Season 4 and Season 5 DVD's of The Simpsons. I'm sitting in my office thinking about them . . .. You won't believe all the stuff they have crammed on those DVD's.
I'm also watching a lot of the Seinfeld Season 1 and 2 DVD's.
Finally, I got this game, World of Warcraft . . . uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *drool*
But I must also say that I'm resigned to remain faithful to my New Years resolutions. More writing, more reading, more teaching. Be good, Oliver. Be good.
I'm also watching a lot of the Seinfeld Season 1 and 2 DVD's.
Finally, I got this game, World of Warcraft . . . uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *drool*
But I must also say that I'm resigned to remain faithful to my New Years resolutions. More writing, more reading, more teaching. Be good, Oliver. Be good.
School days, school days . . .
I taught two classes this morning. I must say it was very hard getting up. I've been going to bed late during the holiday vacation and now it's coming back to bite me.
My mother called me last night. When I was in Middle School, we hosted a Brazillian foreign exchange student. He's coming to visit them tomorrow. Now he's got two daughters and is a judge in Sao Paolo. It should be interesting. Of all the places to visit from Brazil . . . Ontario, Oregon?!
In other news:
It was roughly -5 degrees outside and my car was NOT happy. But it started.
My mother called me last night. When I was in Middle School, we hosted a Brazillian foreign exchange student. He's coming to visit them tomorrow. Now he's got two daughters and is a judge in Sao Paolo. It should be interesting. Of all the places to visit from Brazil . . . Ontario, Oregon?!
In other news:
It was roughly -5 degrees outside and my car was NOT happy. But it started.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Revisions, revisions, revisions
Went through Furious Lullaby again. Probably the sixth time through the entire manuscript, though I've revised poems here and there. I filled in some holes by writing four new poems and revising the first third of the manuscript. I need to live with the new order for a little while . . . see how I feel about it.
This time around I'm looking at consistency and I was pretty hard on myself. Personal mission: cut or reduce the "to be" verbs as well as causality words and temporality words. I use causality and temporality words a lot.
I also need to shore up my syntax. It's muddled. It's always been muddled. It sounds like my father's thought patterns which are episodic.
Anyway, I've been having fun. I actually don't mind revision as much as I used to. Boy, when I was in grad school, I struggled with the process. Now it's a game. Sort of like the puzzles in those Highlights magazines I paged through in doctor and dentist offices.
This time around I'm looking at consistency and I was pretty hard on myself. Personal mission: cut or reduce the "to be" verbs as well as causality words and temporality words. I use causality and temporality words a lot.
I also need to shore up my syntax. It's muddled. It's always been muddled. It sounds like my father's thought patterns which are episodic.
Anyway, I've been having fun. I actually don't mind revision as much as I used to. Boy, when I was in grad school, I struggled with the process. Now it's a game. Sort of like the puzzles in those Highlights magazines I paged through in doctor and dentist offices.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Fun with my name . . . another moment of procrastination
So I tried this and I saw that there were many many word combinations.
Can you imagine how many words Aimee Nezhukumatathil can make with her name?
Can you imagine how many words Aimee Nezhukumatathil can make with her name?
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Word of the day
best boy (best boi) noun
The first assistant to the gaffer (head electrician) of a film crew.
[Apparently borrowed from the sailing terminology.]
"Cast and director commentaries are one thing, but do we really need one from the post-production team, as we've seen on the extended edition of The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King? What's next? 'Reflections from the Key Grip and Best Boy?'" Mike Snider and Thomas K. Arnold; Press 'Repeat' or 'Skip'; USA Today (Washington DC); Dec 28, 2004.
This week's theme: words related to movie making.
This word brought to you by Wordsmith.org
I always wondered what this meant . . . but I was afraid to ask.
The first assistant to the gaffer (head electrician) of a film crew.
[Apparently borrowed from the sailing terminology.]
"Cast and director commentaries are one thing, but do we really need one from the post-production team, as we've seen on the extended edition of The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King? What's next? 'Reflections from the Key Grip and Best Boy?'" Mike Snider and Thomas K. Arnold; Press 'Repeat' or 'Skip'; USA Today (Washington DC); Dec 28, 2004.
This week's theme: words related to movie making.
This word brought to you by Wordsmith.org
I always wondered what this meant . . . but I was afraid to ask.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Poetry and freezing rain
It's dreadful outside. Had to crank up the snowblower after getting about four inches of snow, which is not so bad. The bad part is the thin layer of ice that's forming on top of the pavement. Weather dude says it'll be like this all day, so I'm going to bundle my feet and read poetry.
I've got some poetry goodies. Sarah Gambito's Matadora tops the list at the moment, with her lush lyricism and stupendous image-making. I'm also reading a bit of A. Van Jordan's M-A-C-N-O-L-I-A. Love love love his poem, "from," so dig that book out.
Anyway, it sounds like someone's throwing grains of rice on my windows. Very strange, the freezing rain. . .
I've got some poetry goodies. Sarah Gambito's Matadora tops the list at the moment, with her lush lyricism and stupendous image-making. I'm also reading a bit of A. Van Jordan's M-A-C-N-O-L-I-A. Love love love his poem, "from," so dig that book out.
Anyway, it sounds like someone's throwing grains of rice on my windows. Very strange, the freezing rain. . .
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Notebook thingies
Eduardo Corral has asked for some notebook musings and so you have some. This is from the top page of my yellow-pad:
-like sable plumes on helmets
-cards perfumed with balsam
-sometimes her yellow hair
got into the corners of his mouth
-bound in tunic and dark carmel papers.
-in the moonlight it is jade-green snow
-there are two versions of her story
-licorice-flavored tobacco
-a bat caught in a wall of linen
-rings on the inside of the coffee mug from milk look like tree rings
-dizzying trapezoid rooms
-moisture on plums form a window
-agates in the window and dry pussywillow
-linger like red berries in winter
-like sable plumes on helmets
-cards perfumed with balsam
-sometimes her yellow hair
got into the corners of his mouth
-bound in tunic and dark carmel papers.
-in the moonlight it is jade-green snow
-there are two versions of her story
-licorice-flavored tobacco
-a bat caught in a wall of linen
-rings on the inside of the coffee mug from milk look like tree rings
-dizzying trapezoid rooms
-moisture on plums form a window
-agates in the window and dry pussywillow
-linger like red berries in winter
Running around . . .
Busily, really. Two students who are applying for grad schools have asked for recommendations . . . quite suddenly. I'll be working on those today.
Unpacked three boxes filled with Christmas candy that my parents couldn't eat. Meredith and I have a ridiculous amount of food in our house. There's no way we can eat it all.
Oh, and an old lady at the airport turned to me and said, "Hello Yule Brenner."
Unpacked three boxes filled with Christmas candy that my parents couldn't eat. Meredith and I have a ridiculous amount of food in our house. There's no way we can eat it all.
Oh, and an old lady at the airport turned to me and said, "Hello Yule Brenner."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
