There are foxes on television. L. is obsessed with dogs. He laughs whenever he sees them. Poor Jake is miserable because L. follows him around all day.
L. is laughing at foxes.
***
Mid point of the Winter quarter. I realize my compatriots in those schools with semestral systems are just getting started. I feel like I'm in the home stretch for this quarter.
I gave a quiz to my non-reading class and I was pleased that 3/4ths of them seem to have heeded my warnings about their inattentiveness. The scores weren't as bad as I had expected.
Anyway, I think we're in the mid-quarter doldrums right now. Students are wearing down . . . getting colds. There was actually one case of mumps on campus.
***
I've been trying to get some time with the manuscript, but now that L. is crawling, I've been ever-vigilant. My parents still haven't moved to the area, so I'm the morning and early evening shift. Unfortunately, I have the most energy for desk-work in the mornings, so I feel a bit harried when it comes to all things paper-oriented. At least I'm keeping up with my grading.
Ideally, I've got to get the manuscript in shape to send it to NPS at the very least. . .
***
Somewhat excited about AWP. Not fully excited, just somewhat excited.
***
Current Spin:
The Dodos. "Fools." Check out the insane drummer. . . My forearms are tired.
Feeling a bit under pressure these days. My current teaching and parenting schedule leaves me no time in the mornings (when I'm usually at my most productive). I'm thinking about waking up at 5AM to get things done. I know a lot of other poet/parents do this. I might give it a try tomorrow.
I feel a bit pressured to finish this third manuscript, but I know it's not done. I suppose I'm feeling the pressure because of uncertainty--I'm not sure if/when it'll find a home. These concerns, I know, are a bit goofy and unfounded, considering I still consider myself in the early stages of what I hope will be a lifetime of practicing art.
Still, I'm anxious and when I get anxious about writing, I write. My brain is telling me to get off of my can.
***
I'm excited about Juana Molina because she's an artist who's reinvented herself, moving from comedy to pretty serious music. Her transition wasn't a gradual one . . . it was somewhat abrupt. One day she's doing comedy and the next thing she's playing before small audiences.
If you don't know her stuff, she's giving a free MP3 of "Un Dia" on her website: www.juanamolina.com.
I suppose it's important to remake yourself as an artist to keep yourself interested (interesting?). I for one couldn't possibly write the same manuscript over and over again. And looking at the projects that I have on my plate, they're all so different from one another.
***
I'm excited about AWP's conference next week. I am, however, telling myself to slow down--I know, I know. I'm doing a gazillion things next week, but I also know that I'll be seeing friends I don't see that often and that I need to really "see" them. So I'm telling myself that I must chill out, have lunches, coffee, breakfast, etc., with my friends. I'm telling myself to listen and be present.
***
Current Spin:
The Kooks. "Ooh La."
Funny because they suddenly happen upon a French all-girls school or something.
Yes, I've been messing with code in an attempt to re-post some oldies on this new Blogger template and I've been messing up. Ah well. I suppose I should be more "stream-lined" in this new era of political change.
***
My students don't follow directions.
I, of course, am being very general. There are some who follow directions very well, but a large number of them do not.
***
My parents, thank goodness, are coming this Friday. They'll be staying in town to help Meredith out with the little guy while I'm away at AWP. I can't wait until they're here full time. But I understand the delay. Mom's giving up a professional medical practice she's held since 1977. There are lots of things that need to be settled.
***
Not a current spin, but I saw this video on CurrentTV and I just had to share:
The Arcade Fire. "Neon Bible" in an elevator.
Current spin: DJ Babu with a "sick juggle." I watched Scratch on Friday and I've been revisiting the turntablists of my youth.
I've updated my template, so as you can see, things are a little different around here.
Now, in my haste to switch templates, I fear I've lost some of your blog URL's. If you're missing, let me know and I'll put you back on my blogroll.
***
Disappointed that the Redbirds lost the Superbowl. Still, the last half was fabulous. What a heartbreaking way to lose and what heroics by Holmes. Couldn't believe he kept both feet in bounds.
***
Springsteen was okay. Prince from Superbowl 41 was WAY better.
Long Poem in progress--here's the first two section with a teaser 3rd section. I posted the first section earlier. I just wrote section two . . . like 10 minutes ago . . . and I've started on section three.
As always, this poem in its current state, will live here for a day before it goes poof.
Poof!
****
Yes, they're both 14 lines long. No, that wasn't intentional . . . but now it may be.
Today it is sunny and the pitch of the light strikes my house plant just so. There is a typical sphere of silence in the office and the sleeping toddler clutching my chest breathes warm soft circles into my shirt.
The night was a wreck. There were far to many noises--the window is too close to the chimes. Today, though, is a gift.
I'm thinking about you, long poem. A steady cadence keeps time with my nose. Maybe. Today. Maybe.
***
Spent all morning playing baby "goalie":
Crawl to book case. Run to book case to stop baby. Crawl from book case to coffee table. Run to coffee table to stop baby from falling. Crawl from coffee table to kitchen. Run to kitchen to stop baby from opening cabinets. Etc..
He's finally asleep, so I can now steal away some quick blog time.
***
I did manage to get a fair bit of television in today. Managed to watch La Blogotheque's "Take-Away shows." Here's one that's haunting me:
Andrew Bird. "Spare-Oh's," filmed in Montemartre--one of my favorite places in the world.
So here it is, the first section of a long poem I'm working on:
Poof!
***
It'll live here for a day and then it'll "poof."
I may post other sections, but for now here's the opening section. I'm not entirely sure where it'll go in the new manuscript, but it'll be there somewhere. . .
***
Currently watching tape-delayed coverage of the Australian Open while Lucas naps on my chest.
***
Gave my students a pop-quiz in my 200 level class. For the most part, everyone bombed the quiz which is proof to me that nobody's reading. So looks like there are more quizzes in their future.
Here's the thing . . . you know a lot about a society by how much they value their art--the memory of its culture, if you will.
The monetary numbers are so bewildering to me, but I'll tell you this--$50 million doesn't scratch what the government's giving to banks, etc. And so many organizations that I care about are hurting.
I'm a little irked by Mr. Riedl's position, and it strikes me as "old thinking." Don't tell me that the Arts don't consist of small businesses that employ thousands/millions of people. And don't tell me that the arts won't stimulate the economy. Please. Value must be placed on those things which create ideas and not merely placed on the consumables. What's more, the arts foster metaphorical thinking--a means towards the connection of synapses. I'm tired of a government and a society that devalues creative thinking. A little love for the arts, please.
. . . the first and last poem of the manuscript in progress.
They're going to live on the blog for half the day and then they'll "poof." One of the poems is being considered and one of the poems is forthcoming.
A lot of the poems are of the same tone and subject matter, hence my decision to title it after the first poem:
Poof!
***
Once again, Blogger is killing my line breaks. They're both in couplets, FYI.
The first poem appears before the first section, sort of like the epigraph to the book.
Again, the order of the manuscript is tentative and I may just wind up blowing the whole thing up as I write more pieces, but for now this is what I'm settling on as the two framing poems for the beginning and the ending. The middle's the problem. It's got tonal holes.
***
Snow again. Light confectioner's sugar dusting, but still annoying and still cold.
***
My students in my large 70-person lecture class aren't reading. They stare and they glare and they fall asleep. Drastic measures may need to be taken.
***
Current Spin:
The Tallest Man on Earth. "It Will Follow the Rain."
Of course, I shouldn't complain. The teens as a low is nowhere near negative temperatures, and believe me, I know negative temperatures, having lived in Utica, NY for four years. There's that breaking point where you breathe in and your nostrils freeze together, for example.
I'm just plain tired of the cold and our house is a bit drafty, needing new insulation, windows, etc.. Afterall, it was built in 1977, so it's seen its fair share of winters.
Poor Jake's been hurting his paws on frozen ground, and I think I need to get some doggie shoes for him.
***
Happy Chinese New Year! I'm a Rat, but I must say, the Year of the Rat wasn't so good. Hail to the Year of the Ox!
***
So, I'm pretty sure I have the first poem of my manuscript and the last poem of my manuscript down pat. The problem parts are everything in between, but at least I know I've got something.
Here's the dilemma--the voice shifts, and shifts quite profoundly. I have poem after poem of longer narratives that are triggered by a memory and meander into some moment of epiphany.
I wouldn't say, "in opposition to," but seemingly in opposition to those narrative poems are these little lyrical pieces that are roughly a page in length.
How are they unified? Well, they're all fairly autobiographical.
The trick for me, then, is to find a poem that can fuse the styles, which is why I've been muttering about long poems. I think, a long poem would 1) allow for some lyrical and ecstatic language play and 2) unify the narrative through a long meditation.
But how to start. On my trip to St. Louis/Carbondale, I drafted what looks like a first section. I'll tinker a bit more and I may post bits here and there.
I'm interested in G.C. Waldrep's Disclamor and what seems to be a long poem that he's chopped into bits and distributed throughout the collection. He's got this sequence of "Battery" poems which, are pretty blatant stylistic shifts when placed next to the other poems. But he has so many that, collectively, they "right" the momentum of the book.
Ultimately, my concerns are about momentum . . . I've talked so much about the idea of tone and balancing tone, but there also has to be enough significant movement in the tone of a book to move a reader's eyes forward and onward.
***
In other news, I'm a finalist in something. Which is what it is.
***
The sun god is up. He's peering over the firs and making large shadows of my house.
***
Current spin:
Neko Case. "Furnace Room Lullaby." She's got a new album coming.
As I mentioned in my previous blog post, I feel like I've been on an eating tour of the Midwest.
This is a shot of Hodak's chicken platter which was crispy and tender, but a little under-seasoned for my taste.
***
Taught my first pair of classes since my reading tour. The students seemed more unprepared than usual. A lot of kids didn't read, so I'm thinking of giving 'em a quiz on the first 220 pages of China Men. If you're reading this, students, you've been warned.
***
Been thinking about long poems and the problem with 'em. I've been writing these narrative poems where the epiphany or the epiphanic moment happens towards the end and is partially the result of time and distance. The trouble I'm encountering is that the long poem seems to be a long meandering quest for an epiphany and that one can't just launch into an epiphany in a long poem, otherwise what's the point?
***
Backtracking a bit. Hung out with Rodney Jones, the dude who selected my first book for the Crab Orchard Prize. My god, he's funny. Anyway, it was good reading the newer poems to his class. I'm not the same point I was.
It's funny, but I wrote prose poems, I think, to figure out lineation. Now I think I've figured out my lines and the way I want to use the line.
*** Current Spins:
Andrew Bird. This isn't from his new album, Noble Beast, but I've provided a link to a streaming broadcast from NPR.
I was tagged by Lee Herrick and Aimee Nezhukumatathil to write 25 Random Things About Myself on Facebook, but was having trouble posting it in my notes so here it goes:
1. I have been to a Whitesnake concert. 2. I own a ninja suit. 3. My favorite ice cream flavor is coffee. 4. I took piano lessons for five years but hardly ever practiced. 5. I used to play tennis everyday but now I haven't played tennis for four years. 6. I used to think "Richard Stands" was an actual person and not the mispronunciation of "For which it stands." 7. I have almost 170 days of music on my iPod. 8. My 4-Runner is almost at 100,000 miles. 9. I still miss my little pug Rosie on occasion. 10. I want a new laptop. 11. I think I'm really good at installing tile and plumbing. 12. My favorite game on the Xbox is currently Fallout 3, but I haven't played for awhile. 13. I wrestled in High School at the 135lb weight class. 14. I once applied for a job working at a corn mill. 15. When I was 10, I spent all my hard-earned summer orchard money on Star Wars figurines. 16. I once drove from LA to Ontario, Oregon in one day. 17. I get a little nauseous before I read in front of an audience. 18. I had a small comic book collection which I've since given away. 19. During little league, I crawled to home and scored the game-winning run. 20. I was an EMT for 2 1/2 years in LA County. 21. I have never given anything up for Lent. 22. It's horrible, but I love corn beef hash for breakfast (I, of course, don't eat it all the time). 23. I got into a couple of fights on the playground in Catholic school. 24. I have the first few lines of the Canterbury Tales memorized in Old English. 25. I helped conduct NASA research on lab rats. It was horrible.
I'll try it tomorrow. Right now I'm quite stuffed on Thai carbs.
***
The reading is tomorrow night and I feel unprepared.
***
I can't believe the Cardinals will be in the Super Bowl. They were actually the first pro football team I had ever seen live. I went to see them play the Redskins and it was bloody awful--this was, of course, pre Jake Plummer as a Cardinal, so this is way back.
***
Current Spin:
M. Ward's new album "drops" soon, but until then . . .
Currently getting ready to pack for a trip to St. Louis, MO, and Carbondale, IL, where I'll be reading at two venues.
The first venue is River Styx at Duff's, where I'll be reading with local St. Louis poet, Virginia Slachman.
Duff's is on 392 North Euclid in St. Louis, MO. The reading will take place on January 19th and starts at 7:30PM. Hope to see some familiar faces!
I don't have any information on the SIU Carbondale Reading other than the fact that it'll take place on the 20th, inauguration day, but I'll be bringing my laptop.
***
Reformatted manuscript three this morning and found out some crucial things.
The first thing is that with all the section breaks included as well as some other formatting considerations, the manuscript is 65 pages in length. It's longer than I had originally thought.
The second thing is that I'm going to lose a lot of those pages because I don't think they are in the "style" of most of the work.
The third thing is I think my title may change to In Defense of Small Towns, rather than Grace Equations.
The syllogism poems aren't speaking to the Self-Portrait poems. They're too elevated in diction, and it may be too great a leap for me to find a transitional poem or a transitional series to bridge that gap.
More later.
***
Watched BSG this morning (recorded by my DVR). Oh. My. God. Good to see it back on the air. Who knew? Still confused about the Thrace issue and the final five "revelation" at the end. Hmmmm . . .
The very excellent writer and my colleague, Carol Guess, has a playlist on one of my favorite music and culture blogs, Largehearted Boy.
Not only is she an excellent writer, but she has great taste in music.
***
Among my most favorite things is my around-ear noise cancelling headphones. Now, this isn't the model I have, but it's the model I'd love. Anyway, they're fabulous to have when either grading or writing.
And I love it when a writing project is going well . . . unfortunately, here's where my love-fest ends. I'm totally stuck.
While putting out that table of contents was a useful exercise, I see gaping holes that need to be addressed--such pursuits require time (which I don't have). Two weeks is all I ask . . .
I've been applying to Breadloaf for some time, lost my eligibility for fellowships 'cause my first book had been out too long, and now I can reapply with my second book. I've never applied to Sewanee. Anyway, I'm feeling guilty about leaving the family for such a long stretch, but if Meredith is giving me the thumbs up, then I better apply.
***
Current Spins:
Jeff Hanson. At first, I thought this was sung by a woman. My goodness, that voice.
All the technology at my parents' house makes me really envious. This past weekend while we were escaping the flood plains, the cable guy hooked up the house (I feel like we have two houses which is kind of nice--one in the city, one in the country). Oh, what a joy HDTV is. You can see blackheads on the news anchors.
And the internet connection we enjoy at their house is substantially faster than what we've had to work with in our country house (Hughes Satellite ISP--no cable or DSL available at our house).
So I've been looking forward to the excursions into town because of the connectivity.
***
Currently blogging with a kid sleeping on my chest.
***
So school has started, as I've mentioned in other posts. I'm again teaching my ENG 453 class which I always teach as a poetic forms course. I'm using Robin Skelton's book The Shapes of Our Singing and a very smart WWU student pointed out that she thought all of the poems in the book were written by Skelton. I think she's right. Eek.
For my Asian American Literature course, I'm teaching fairly "canonized" AsAm stuff--China Men, No No Boy, Native Speaker. But I'm also teaching my friend Joseph Legaspi's poetry collection, IMAGO, and I'm teaching a graphic novel, American Born Chinese. The course is framed around the idea of Asian American masculinity--its historical portrayals, etc.. I'm using lots of film too. We're starting with Wayne Wang's Chan is Missing. We'll also watch The Debut, American Sons, and Better Luck Tomorrow.
*I'm to lazy to link right now, plus the kid makes such multi-tasking difficult*
***
My writing has taken a back seat to preparing my pre-tenure file. I go up for tenure/promotion next year and this is the first screening round. I filled two five-inch-thick binders with materials. Fingers crossed.
***
I'm still trying to get a grasp on my new quarterly schedule. Today feels like I've adjusted a wee bit.
The beginning of the Winter quarter has kicked my ass. I foolishly decided to revamp my Asian American literature course, putting in books I hadn't read and including a lot more PowerPoint and visual rhetoric which, of course, is super time-consuming. And of course there's the time I need to spend with the little guy pictured above. Soon, I'll get into a comfortable routine. Right now, though, I feel like I'm running around blindly.
***
I'm beginning to feel that all I ever do on my blog is complain.
***
And another thing about my parents' house . . . they have no storage space. They've got all these semi-read books with no space to put 'em. It always depresses me to go to their office because I feel the compulsion to organize the whole place.
I may secretly go to Henderson's Used Book Store and get rid of all of my parents' trashy true-crime paperbacks. They are SO into Ann Rule. What's with that? And how the hell did I become a poet if all my parents read are true crime potboilers?!
***
I have not played my XBOX 360 for five days and it has made me cranky.
Sorry I haven't been blogging lately, but . . . well, if you've been watching the news, Western Washington has been hit with a ton of floods. My family and I are fine . . . perfectly safe, but our roads into town have been hit by mudslides, so I've been having extra long commutes to get to work. Luckily my parents have a house in B'ham where we've been staying, but that house is currently filled with boxes.
On top of that, the quarter has just started, so I've been prepping and teaching.
Needless to say, I've been busy. Once everything dries up a bit, I'll post a bit more regularly.
Take your MP3 Player, put it on shuffle, and shuffle through the first five songs.
Now write a poem using something from two of the titles, something from three of the songs' lyrics, and one thematic concern from a song.
Here are my songs:
The Primitives, "Way Behind Me." The Innocence Mission, "My Waltzing Days Are Over/Minta's Waltz" Daft Punk, "Da Funk/Dadftendirekt" (WTF?!) Billy Bragg & Wilco, "Christ For President" Of Montreal, "Art Snob Solutions"
***
I had promised a poem, so here it is:
From a Car Way Behind Me, “Da Funk” Shook My Windows
The streets glare back at the headlights as the unpeopled city winds around my head like ribbon, and I had hoped
the bass from the other car didn’t know any names or principles . . . that it could thaw the built up civilization out of its one collective dream—the voice of the drum
guns behind me rich in its violence, and the pavement wet with rain shimmers with the speaker’s thud, a sort of pulse like a fly
in a glass, its wing-flits rippling the water outward to the mouth, and I could feel in my stomach the shift of gears as I accelerate to leave
the sound, and the moon out now, from behind clouds turns everything blue, and the aquarium light tells a kind of truth—that I don’t want
to slow the car to let the other driver pass, that all the new light from his high-beams and mine would set the night on fire, that our breaths
were vapor, phosphor . . . our breaths were leaving our bodies in waves, redundant and slow—
***
So, obviously the title borrows from two of the songs. Thematically, I went with the Daft Punk. Buried somewhere are lyrics from "My Waltzing Days Are Over," "Art Snob Solutions," and "Christ as President."
***
Ack! My margins are all messed up. Well, just imagine the lines are staggered with a space between couplets . . .
I'm posting a tentative Table of Contents for a manuscript I'm currently tweaking. I spent some time this afternoon culling pages. All in all, as I've posted on Twitter, I've culled 30 pages and am left with 55 pages. Here's what I've got:
Tentative Title: Grace Equations
In Defense of Small Towns
Section I
At the Time of My Birth . . . Ablation as the Creation of Adam Self-Portrait as a Cowboy in Second Grade Sticks and Stones The Poet at Ten Self-Portrait with Taxidermy How I Learned Quiet Insomnia as Transfiguration Cussing on the Playground Self-Portrait in My Mother's Shoes Eschatology Through a Confluence of Trees No One Sleeps Through the Night
Section II
At the Time of My Young Adulthood Self-Portrait Beside a Dead Chestnut Horse Self-Portrait with Schlitz, a Pick-Up, and the Snake River Last Days Eschatology on Interstate 84 at 70 mph Eschatology as Cinema Verite Bliss Self-Portrait on Good Friday as an Altar Boy Once, Love, I Broke a Window Self-Portrait Descending Slowly into the Atlantic Ocean Instead, I'm Here to Tell You Very Softly How You Came About in the World Bewilders Me as a Cherry Tree Flowering Autumn Scene as Lullaby If, Given
Section III
And When I Grew Up Television as a Tool for Remission Self-Portrait with a Car Crash The Obvious Ghost Hunting as Physiography Eschatology in Five Acres Self-Portrait as a Series of Non-Sequential Lessons Self-Portrait as a Small Town The Boy With the Fiddle in a Crowded Square Colony Collapse Disorder in Honey Bees as Eschatology Prayer for What Won't Happen The Surgical Theater as Spirit Cabinet Self-Portrait with What Remains
***
I'm fully aware of the fact that this version will change. Already I want to move the Self-Portaits away from each other a bit more. I also see that the transition between the syllogism poems and the Self-Portraits might be too dramatic.
I'm also not sure about the number of sections that I want to create. I have in mind a long poem for the collection, somewhere in the middle, so that may "blow-up" the order even further.
As it is, the collection is clearly a Bildungsroman and I'm not sure I like the simplicity of that fact.
Changes to come. You'll hear about them.
***
The quarter starts next Tuesday and I am NOT prepared. I had a Summer to prep for the Fall. For the Winter, three weeks. At least one of my preps is a repeat from the Fall.
The falcon is directed by an arm, flies into the sky and does not return. The falconer stands astonished, dangling the leather hood. A little wine, some mild laughing, and the king forgets, but the falconer lies in bed staring at the ceiling or the plate of stars at the bare window.
Then in the dark there is a sound, and the bird has returned to him, knowing the way by night, flying in to the falconer’s chamber. Proud as a cat it drops the prey: a debt. It looks at the man with one eye, speaks in one of the falcon dialects, unable to express where it has been as it toured the sky. Did it follow above the lake, the village, forest and mountain? Does it recall
By night a forgotten name will rise to the unfortunate who stood there silent and foolish by day. The falcon knows the falconer with both its eyes. Like memory, it returned when it was expected. Like memory it is a weight on the arm, missed sorely when it is missing.
Take your MP3 Player, put it on shuffle, and shuffle through the first five songs.
Now write a poem using something from two of the titles, something from three of the songs' lyrics, and one thematic concern from a song.
Here are my songs:
The Primitives, "Way Behind Me." The Innocence Mission, "My Waltzing Days Are Over/Minta's Waltz" Daft Punk, "Da Funk/Dadftendirekt" (WTF?!) Billy Bragg & Wilco, "Christ For President" Of Montreal, "Art Snob Solutions"
***
Ha! I'm in trouble!
***
Clearly, I should be writing instead of playing on the internet.
My parents are driving up today. Our region's been blanketed by snow and there have been multiple accidents on the freeways, so I'm a little concerned. Anyway, I've been busy tending to their new house. Mostly, though, I've been living. I've been enjoying my vacation even though I have mountains of work to get to.
***
I'll get to my literary stuff soon. I just need a break. I promise. Another round of submissions must go out and I want to get the manuscript up and running for the January deadlines.
*** Current spin:
Chad Vangaalen not only plays instruments, he is also a visual artist and he animated this video himself. This bit is from an earlier album. I've been listening to Soft Airplane
I know there are lots of lists out in web-space that are doing the exact thing that I'm doing. That's okay. It was fun to puzzle over this small list. In doing so, I came to the realization that honestly, it wasn't a great year for albums. Mind you, there are some great albums out there, but I found that there are a lot of artists who put out a fantastic single but the rest of the album couldn't hold up.
I didn't consider genre when I came up with this list. It's merely a list of what I've been playing quite frequently. And I acknowledge that some albums came out earlier than others which might unfairly weight my choice. Yes, I took that into consideration.
So, without further delay, here are Oliver's top 5 albums from 2008 based on the play count on my iTunes:
5. Girl TalkFeed the Animals. The link is to Greg Gillis (Mr. Girl Talk himself) demonstrating his mash-up skills using a track by Elvis Costello. This album made the top 5 because I didn't get tired of listening to it. Listening was always a joyous endeavor--there'd be snippets of tracks from Journey, AC/DC, No Doubt, Nirvana . . . on and on. What happens when you throw a party and everyone comes? You get this album.
4. ShearwaterRook. Gorgeously depressing music that reminded me of another fine band, Talk Talk . . . at least Jonathan Meiburg sounds like Mark Hollis.
3. Okkervil River, The Stand-Ins. Funny, but Jonathan Meiburg used to be in Okkervil River. Anyway, I'm a big fan of "literate" rock albums. This one had a narrative arc that kept me listening.
2b. Juana Molina'sUn Dia. Okay, so I was a little surprised that she moved to number two, but I checked the frequency of times played and . . . well this was the second highest played albums on my list. Lovely tapestries of sound, is how I describe this. Think Bjork if Bjork were Argentinian. I often listened to this album when commenting on my students work because of the trance-like state I need to be in in order to slog through the paperwork.
2a. TV on the Radio, Dear Science. Mixing harmonies with crunch guitars, these guys made one heck of an album. Dear Science beat out Un Dia by one album spin. I often listen to this album at the gym and I'm at the gym almost every day, it seems. I love the urgency of this album.
1. Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes. Call it a Pacific Northwest bias. I was in love with this album before it was even released when "Winter Hymnal" was making the rounds in the Spring. They definitely sound like Crosby Stills Nash and Young, and that's a good thing.
Honorable Mentions in no order:
Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago The Walkmen, You & Me Brian Eno & David Byrne, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today (Thanks for the reminder, JG). Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend Lyrics Born, Everywhere at Once The Roots, Rising Down Thao, We Brave Bee Stings Blind Pilot, 3 Rounds and a Sound Sigur Ros, Med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust She & Him, Volume One Santogold, Santogold Ra Ra Riot, The Rhumb Line Madlib, WLIB AM - King of the Wigflip Jenny Lewis, Acid Tongue Cat Power, Jukebox (WAY back at the start of the year) Beck, Modern Guilt The Airborne Toxic Event, The Airborne Toxic Event Black Keys, Attack & Release Hot Chip, Made in the Dark Blitzen Trapper, Furr R.E.M., Accelerate
***
It was a lean year for Hip-Hop. I can usually think of more Hip-Hop albums that warrant multiple re-spins, but like I said earlier, there were a lot of good Hip-Hop singles, but then the rest of the album would be full of . . . well, crap.
***
My grading is done! Yay! I'm freed up to . . . well, to write lists of my favorite albums of 2008.
***
New To Do list:
1. Finish a pedagogy essay 2. Submit poems to three journals 3. Complete grant application 4. Create syllabus for Asian American Lit. class 5. Organize new manuscript and prepare it for submission 6. Caulk the soffit-gap on the underside of my parents' new house 7. Apply poly-seal to parents' garage 8. Install rubber flashing in parents' attic opening 9. Write poems?
*10. Be a dad (#10 trumps all of the above)
***
Current Spins: Ha! While I was coming up with that list, I was listening to Neil Young's Chrome Dreams
Current Reads: The new Rolling Stone, Native Speaker, and Kimiko Hahn's Earshot.
Yes, it has snowed in the Foothills. Foolishly, I left the hummingbird feeders out and now the sugar water is frozen inside them, making them look, very much, like rubies.
***
The snow makes it difficult to go to town, though the good people of the county services do plow the road, the snowboarders start heading to the mountain, making the driving slow and treacherous.
We've been having to go to town for the past couple of days to take care of the last bits of school business and dealing with things for my parents' new house. I'll be glad for a break.
***
Speaking of breaks, it's almost officially the holiday vacation for me. I just have to do my grade calculations.
***
Larghearted Boy, one of the music blogs I follow (it's listed in the column on the right), is displaying its best of 2008 lists. I love these best of lists because I get introduced to things I wasn't aware of, but I also like the conversations it sparks. So in a post or two I'll make my top five albums of 2008 list, just for show.
***
I still owe y'all a post on my manuscript thoughts, but I've been dealing with other people's poems for awhile--
I'm in the home stretch as far as the quarter goes. Poetry portfolios are piling up, but I can grade them fairly quickly. All in all, a great pair of classes and a solid bunch of students.
***
I booked my flight to St. Louis, MO for the River Styx at Duffy's reading. I'll also be reading at SIU Carbondale. I'll be in that part of the world from January 19th to the 21st.
So about my manuscript-making commentary. I'm so glad a lot of you have chimed in and have sent me e-mails.
I've forgotten to mention that I'm a big fan of balance. It's a principle that relies not only on my intuition but on the poems I've written. It also may determine whether I'll be writing more poems for a collection.
Anchors, to me, are poems that I use to force balance in a collection. I've already talked about long poems or multi-sectioned poems in previous posts. But I would be remiss if I didn't mention titles as anchors. A title can suggest a context, linkage, a chronology. Kingdom, Phyla, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species . . .
So looking at my tentative titles in the previous post, I've got a lot of poems with similar titles. Now, I could certainly section 'em off, but what I'm leaning towards doing is distributing them. I don't think I'd be interested in reading a book that has a section where every poem starts with "Self Portrait. . . " All those "Self Portrait" poems are narratives, too, while the Childhood poems are pretty lyrical. There's no way I could pull off having those poems cordoned off in separate sections because the transition from one section to the next would be too jarring. So I'll be using the Childhood poems as chronological anchors, placing them at specific intervals in the manuscript--beginning, middle, and ending.
But there's a part of me that wants to disrupt the notion of a chronology, so I think I'll use the fatherhood and self-portrait poems as counter-anchors. I don't want the collection to merely move forward through time.
I'll play with my manuscript order a bit and I'll post my tentative Table of Contents later.
***
Current Spins: R.E.M., all their I.R.S. records catalog.
Current Reads: Student Portfolios and Thesis Projects. Yay!
Had a big party at the homestead. I "brewed" my homemade chili and my mother fried her famous eggrolls. Other folks brought a variety of foods. All told, I think we had over 40 people over at our place. Good times.
And while I was interested in the fight for mostly cultural reasons, I could not bring myself to shell out the $55 needed for the cable package. Still, I've been getting text messages from friends and some family about the fight.
More thoughts about the 3rd manuscript. Sandra beat me to my next topic which is the use of a long poem to anchor or serve as the fulcrum of a book.
I did this in both my books: Names had two longer poems, one at the opening and one in the middle. Furious Lullaby had two as well, with "Aporia" serving as the spine/fulcrum for the book and "The Devil's Book" serving as the poem that moves the book like a pendulum, pivoting at the fulcrum.
I'm in the middle of writing, what I think will be a long poem. A student in my 460 class challenged me to follow through with one of my infamous Rube Goldberg poems. So I had to write this poem that reconciled all these disparate elements--an indigenous bird, the word "alphabet," a neighborhood cat, the word "condom," the use of twine as a psychological image. Anyway, I wrote a many-sectioned poem which I may expand because it touches on all the things I had been writing about.
***
Sue's requested that I post some poems here, but many of them are either out or forthcoming. I can, however, give you the titles of poems I think fit manuscript 3 arranged according to thematic lumps:
Self Portrait Poems "Self Portrait Besides a Dead Chestnut Horse" "Self Portrait with Taxidermy" "Self Portrait in My Mother's Shoes" "Self Portrait as a Small Town" "Self Portrait with What Remains" "Self Portrait on Good Friday" "Self Portrait with Schlitz, a Pickup, and the Snake River" "Self Portrait Descending Slowly into the Atlantic Ocean"
Syllogism Poems "The Surgical Theater as Spirit Cabinet" "Ablation as the Creation of Adam" "Insomnia as Transfiguration" "Ghost Hunting at the Waverly Hills Sanatorium as Physiography" "Autumn Scene as Lullaby" "Colony Collapse Disorder in Honey Bees as Eschatology"
End of the World Poems "Eschatology Through a Confluence of Trees" "Eschatology on Interstate 84 at 70mph" "Eschatology in Five Acres"
Fatherhood Poems "The Boy with the Fiddle in a Crowded Square" "Prayer for What Won't Happen" "Pyromancy" "No One Sleeps Through the Night" "In Defense of Small Towns" "Autumn Song in Four Variations"
Childhood Poems "When I was Born" "At the Time of My Youth" "And When I Grew Up" "At the Time of My Death" "How I Learned Quiet" "Sticks and Stones" "The Poet at Ten" "Cussing in the Playground"
That's 31 poems in various states of completion. I've got a few I've left out for now because I'm still trying to figure out how to integrate them.
My first thought would be to look at the "How I Learned Quiet" poem and maybe take my cues from that.
Sorry, gears are clicking and I'm thinking aloud. If this bores you, I can talk about video games. ;-)
***
Speaking of video games, a few that I've recently played incorporate a moral component. I've been playing Fable II and the way your character is perceived determines courses in the game. The same is true for my latest obsession, Fallout 3.
Pop culture, yes, is still culture and it does say something about the society that generates it.
***
Current Spin: Bon Iver
Current Read: Still Chang Rae Lee's Native Speaker
A few folks have sent me messages, backchannel, about my manuscript organizing principles. I have a few general ideas that guide me through the assembly of the process, but for the most part I use my gut.
One of the main principles I think about, though, is the tone of the overall manuscript once poems are placed side by side by side. For me, it's great to have a uniform tone because it helps me recognize whether a set of poems belongs to one manuscript or is what I'd consider a stray or something for another book.
However, the uniformity of tone can also be a problem. If you've got a whole bunch of poems that are basically doing the same thing, then the inertia of the book isn't going to take the reader forward. Hell, if I read a book of poems where the tone of the book is "one note," then I know I'll be bored and I'll put the thing down.
Therein lies the problem with my third manuscript. I'm at the juncture where I've identified that I indeed have enough poems for a third book. I am, however, aware of the fact that the poems I've currently got are all in the "minor keys." While I can see this as an opportunity to generate newer and perhaps more tonally diverse poems, I'm already weary of the process it took to generate work.
Another principle I think about is point of view, which ties in fairly closely with my idea about tone. Currently, the point of view of the manuscript is 1st person with an occasional foray into 3rd limited. The 3rd limited moments are to be understood as the same character as the 1st person pov. At no time does the manuscript's pov waiver from the subject which, I believe, is creating some problems--the character is not advancing the narrative because he is not changing. A big F'ing problem, since as I stated earlier, the narrative's loosely biographical. So perhaps I should take up skydiving, bungee jumping, or take up water polo.
As for my principles on a narrative--while it worked to have a fairly traditional/linear organization for Names that ain't gonna work for this new project. And you could also argue that Furious Lullaby had a linear narrative. The first section of Furious Lullaby built up to the middle section which was a "dark night of the soul" section, followed by a section of clarity (not resolution). So what's the narrative of book three? Maybe this is the problem. I don't know. Here's what I do know: when I started the poems for this manuscript my life had undergone some major changes. I got a new job. I moved. I got married. I got cancer (minor cancer, mind you, but still), and I had a child. Somewhere in the chaos of my life change, there's a story I as writer have a responsibility to craft.
And speaking of responsibility, my baby's sleeping close to my stomach under my hoodie sweatshirt. Fatherhood has added urgency to my art.
***
It's the end of the quarter and my students are spent. I am spent. I taught two very unique classes--one on short prose (prose poems, short-shorts, and lyric essays), and one on traditional forms.
This past quarter was quite taxing on me as a reader because on the one hand, I taught a class which asked the writer to eschew the principle of the line (but not the sentence) as musical, temporal, visual, and narrative guide, and on the other hand, the other class celebrated lineation as a musical, temporal, visual, and narrative guide.
So I was of two brains when I commented on student work and found myself quite tired after marathon sessions of commentary.
***
The moving of my parents is in full effect. I got the keys to their house and checked it out. It's a cute little rambler. It's all one level with, perhaps, a step or two up from the garage. Nothing that would cause my parents' knees to give out. The former owners have left a lovely cedar play fortress in the backyard. The backyard still needs to be fenced off because there's a wee drop off into a green zone.
Lovely place for L. to spend his days, though. The house is in a clean, quiet neighborhood close to my work place and my gym.
Ah! Convenience! My parents are going to save my sanity and my pocketbook (no babysitter fees!).
*** Current Spin: Laura Marling--"Failure"
Current Read: Still reading Chang Rae Lee's Native Speaker
Current Xbox Game: Fallout 3 (I am an unapologetic gamer).
I've been thinking about this third book. Its mechanics. The way it ticks. There are high places and there are low places but there are few places in between.
And that's the problem with it at the moment. That at times it takes itself too seriously. That it's much too me. And I'm finding in my edits, that I'm saying "I am here and I am here and I am here" far too much. I suppose that's what happens when you write some moderately confessional long narrative poems.
Strategies for the other books were actually quite easy. In Names, I had a character who wasn't me. So naturally, I could have other characters who also weren't me describe or define the main character. There was distance.
In Furious Lullaby, I had the "you" address. And unlike the common practice in poems that use "you," "you" was not the poet but someone external to the poet. So naturally, it was easier to offer direction/instruction for readers.
But now I'm stuck with lots of these confessional narratives that are lightly veiled in fiction, but are certainly about me. Oh what to do?
Ever get tired of listening to yourself?
***
The academic quarter is drawing to a close and I'm beat. Juggling the teaching gig with the new parental duties is tough. Never mind that I also have to write as part of my "job." There is never enough time. There never was before I became a dad. I'm feeling mildly squeezed.
The kid's damn cute, though.
***
Mere's birthday is tomorrow. Happy birthday, love!
***
Current Spins: See the above Juana Molina track as well as all her albums. Great grading music.
Current Reads: Chang Rae Lee's Native Speaker for a class I'll be teaching.
Thanksgiving with the parents was great. All told we had about 24 people come over to the home of my childhood for dinner. We had 21 babysitters for the weekend, which was spectacular.
Unfortunately, I left my camera at home.
Anyway, highlights of the trip were of course the family and the non-stop eating of very non-traditional Thanksgiving foods like lechon and pancit. Don't get me wrong, though. We did have a turkey and we did have mashed potatoes, but we mostly had some variation of a Filipino/Chinese dish.
Another highlight was marathon stretches of Guitar Hero with the younger cousins. The youngest of my cousins who came is thirteen and the oldest is twenty-three, so they were all thrilled by the XBOX. I had to buy a second guitar controller, but it was worth it.
The lowlights were the actual travel--it took us ten hours to drive to Ontario. We hit very dense fog in the mountains which slowed us to 30mph, and we could barely see 100 yards ahead.
Another lowlight was, unfortunately, the town itself. It's a very different place from where I had grown up--poorer, empty. There's a maximum security prison nearby which wasn't there during my childhood. Consequently, the families of lots of the inmates have moved into town to be near their relatives and it's drastically altered the culture of the town. My folks had their business broken into a couple of weeks ago and there has been a rash of burglaries. Never happened in my childhood.
Which brings me to the other lowlight--I had to pack up all the crap from my childhood room. My parents, as I've mentioned, are moving to Bellingham. They didn't want to touch the stuff in my room because they 1) didn't want to pry and 2) they had no idea what I wanted to keep and what I wanted to trash. Honestly, I'm not very nostalgic for things, so I ended up dumping a lot of things in the garbage. The room's fairly empty now, except for the furniture.
***
Meredith and I got to take in Quantum of Solace which was a bit more like the traditional Bond films in terms of some elements. Craig's Bond is arrogant, almost joyless, but clearly a physical weapon. I liked the first film with Daniel Craig as Bond a lot better than this one. At least the poker scenes in Casino Royale created suspense. I don't think I ever felt suspense in the new film . . . just disjointed.
*** GEEK ALERT!
It's official. Heroes sucks. It's a victim of bad writing. Seems like the creators of the show don't read comic books. What made the first season great was the various Heroes discoveries of their powers and the human elements--estrangement, uncertainty, discovery, and joy. The last two seasons show a steady decline in the writing.
Here are a list of some problems I have with the show:
Hiro is too powerful and over-relied upon for narration. The time jump thing was novel at first but it's created some problems in the writing. I mean, hell, if he can jump through time AND space, then why can't he just fix everything? At least make his powers debilitate him in some way.
There are too many power absorbers--Silar? Peter Petrelli? Daddy Petrelli? No, no, no. So then what's the point? Marvel does it right with their character, Rogue whose ability causes her great emotional hardships.
God, I'm such a nerd. Let's just say that I was skeptical of the television series to begin with and now in its third season, my predictions for the show are coming to fruition.
***
I've been in the process of writing multiple series poems. They're all for different manuscripts, I'm certain.
Series 1 = Self Portraits (I've got twelve of these poems) Series 2 = Simile Poems (I've got about eight of these. Titles have this characteristic: _________ as __________) Series 3 = Fatherhood Poems (I've got maybe ten of these) Series 4 = Manong Poems (Fifteen of these poems. Historical fiction poems focusing on a few Filipino migrant workers back in the 1940's). Series 5 = Dear Empire Poems (Twenty or so in various states. Epistolary prose poems) Series 6 = Nocturnes (Three poems) Series 7 = Eschatology Poems (Six Poems)
Series 1, 2, 3, and 7 seem to fit together in a manuscript because tonally they're similar. The POV is the same or can be easily revised so that the POV is consistent.
Series 4 is all by itself.
Series 5 and 6 seem a likely pairing. The Noctures are in third person and very objective while the Dear Empire poems are quite intimate. Perhaps a bridge series is needed.
Looks like three manuscript projects to me. Each project has had its share of some pubs--The poems from series 1,2,3, and 7 have had the most pubs, followed by the poems from Series 4. Series 5 and 6 just had a few picked up in the Summer, so it's a burgeoning collection.
I don't normally work this way, mind you. I'm just finding that my writing energy comes in spurts. I'll bang out a few poems in a series, come back to the series, run out of energy, and start something else.
More on this later in the week as I do a bit of thinking.
