Like Totally Whatever
Here are two vids. Watch them in order: Taylor Mali, then Melissa Lozada-Oliva. ♥
Posts
A Poem for Changing
First, I continue to find designer Inka Mathew's Tiny PMS Match, in which she matches small, everyday objects to their Pantone colors, super soothing.
Second, I love this poem, by Gwynn O'Gara, found in my 2014 Women Artists Datebook.
Rhythm
Late afternoon the dog comes to my study
and rubs her softness against me.
Now, say her eyes.
Even the patient know urgency,
the dreamy wake to appetite.
Among the trees she greets old friends,
exults in the warmth of a new hand.
At home I fill her bowl.
So the heart finds where we hide
among strangers or preoccupations
and tells us it is time.
Feed what is hungry.
Air what is stale.
Pick up pen or phone
and pronounce the words
practiced so long in silence.
Or lie down in the sun with the grass.
Neither bless nor curse,
simply change.
Gwynn O'Gara
Second, I love this poem, by Gwynn O'Gara, found in my 2014 Women Artists Datebook.
Rhythm
Late afternoon the dog comes to my study
and rubs her softness against me.
Now, say her eyes.
Even the patient know urgency,
the dreamy wake to appetite.
Among the trees she greets old friends,
exults in the warmth of a new hand.
At home I fill her bowl.
So the heart finds where we hide
among strangers or preoccupations
and tells us it is time.
Feed what is hungry.
Air what is stale.
Pick up pen or phone
and pronounce the words
practiced so long in silence.
Or lie down in the sun with the grass.
Neither bless nor curse,
simply change.
Gwynn O'Gara
Keeping Quiet
Keeping Quiet
by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still.
This one time upon the earth, let's not speak any language, let's stop for one second, and not move our arms so much.
It would be a delicious moment, without hurry, without locomotives, all of us would be together in a sudden uneasiness.
The fishermen in the cold sea would do no harm to the whales and the peasant gathering salt would look at his torn hands.
Those who prepare green wars, wars of gas, wars of fire, victories without survivors, would put on clean clothing and would walk alongside their brothers in the shade, without doing a thing.
What I want shouldn't be confused with final inactivity: life alone is what matters, I want nothing to do with death.
If we weren't unanimous about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once, perhaps a great silence would interrupt this sadness, this never understanding ourselves and threatening ourselves with death, …
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still.
This one time upon the earth, let's not speak any language, let's stop for one second, and not move our arms so much.
It would be a delicious moment, without hurry, without locomotives, all of us would be together in a sudden uneasiness.
The fishermen in the cold sea would do no harm to the whales and the peasant gathering salt would look at his torn hands.
Those who prepare green wars, wars of gas, wars of fire, victories without survivors, would put on clean clothing and would walk alongside their brothers in the shade, without doing a thing.
What I want shouldn't be confused with final inactivity: life alone is what matters, I want nothing to do with death.
If we weren't unanimous about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once, perhaps a great silence would interrupt this sadness, this never understanding ourselves and threatening ourselves with death, …
Rumi Strikes Again
Does sunset sometimes look like the sun is coming up?
Do you know what a faithful love is like?
You're crying; you say you've burned yourself.
But can you think of anyone who's not
hazy with smoke?
- Rumi
Do you know what a faithful love is like?
You're crying; you say you've burned yourself.
But can you think of anyone who's not
hazy with smoke?
- Rumi
Just Sharing Some Beauty Via Edna St. Vincent Millay
Bitterblue is one of Kirkus Reviews' Best Books of 2012. I am overwhelmed with blessings.
So, yesterday, while I was doing some financial organizing, I stumbled across two poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Possibly this highlights the key problem I have with my financial organizing, but anyway :). I just had to share them. The first is about death. The second is about love.
Dirge Without Music
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.
The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curle…
So, yesterday, while I was doing some financial organizing, I stumbled across two poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Possibly this highlights the key problem I have with my financial organizing, but anyway :). I just had to share them. The first is about death. The second is about love.
Dirge Without Music
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, --- but the best is lost.
The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curle…
An Important Reminder
For those mornings when you wake up and find yourself wondering, Hmm, what strange thing happened to me overnight? Weirdness and worry, you are welcome in my day: come on in.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door, laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door, laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
JonArno Lawson's New Book of Poetry; Plus, Some Randutiae
JonArno Lawson doesn't see the world the way other people do, THANK GOODNESS. His most recent book release is Down in the Bottom of the Bottom of the Box, surreal poems decorated with the paper cuts of artist Alec Dempster.
The Human Being
Bombard its brain with cosmic rays.
redden its eyes with Mars --
set its tiny heart ablaze
upon a heap of stars.
Burning Hot Banana
I bought a burning hot banana from a bin in Indiana
with a burning hot and sticky splitting freckly yellow skin --
splotchy-rotten overripe -- thick enough to clog a pipe --
when I think of it today I sweat and sicken from within.
Some of these poems actually had me howling. There's one called "A Coarse and Common Carrot" and another called "The Alleycat Alley-Allocator Acting like an Alligator." Others just left me wondering, thinking, smiling, like the series about solar bears, lunar foxes and moonwolves. This book is gorgeously published by The Porcupine's Quill in Ontario and would mak…
The Human Being
Bombard its brain with cosmic rays.
redden its eyes with Mars --
set its tiny heart ablaze
upon a heap of stars.
Burning Hot Banana
I bought a burning hot banana from a bin in Indiana
with a burning hot and sticky splitting freckly yellow skin --
splotchy-rotten overripe -- thick enough to clog a pipe --
when I think of it today I sweat and sicken from within.
Some of these poems actually had me howling. There's one called "A Coarse and Common Carrot" and another called "The Alleycat Alley-Allocator Acting like an Alligator." Others just left me wondering, thinking, smiling, like the series about solar bears, lunar foxes and moonwolves. This book is gorgeously published by The Porcupine's Quill in Ontario and would mak…
What I've Been Reading (and some music TV)
Okay, this is an even more random edition of What I've Been Reading (and Watching) than usual -- I hope some of it speaks to some of you out there!
1.
Colleges That Change Lives: 40 Schools That Will Change the Way You Think About Colleges (2006, 2nd revised edition), by Loren Pope. The college application thing is such a rat race, isn't it? So stressful, so depressing, so many assumptions about what's best (name-brand schools), so many messed-up notions about how to decide who is and isn't "smart." When I was choosing a college, I bought into all of that completely. I thought it was all about rankings and scores. I think differently now. And yeah, I'm happy with the path I took, not that it matters, because I wasn't really in a place then to take any other kind of path. But if I had to go to college now, knowing all I've learned, I might choose one of the colleges in this refreshing book I've been reading, called Colleges That Change Lives: 40 …
1.
Colleges That Change Lives: 40 Schools That Will Change the Way You Think About Colleges (2006, 2nd revised edition), by Loren Pope. The college application thing is such a rat race, isn't it? So stressful, so depressing, so many assumptions about what's best (name-brand schools), so many messed-up notions about how to decide who is and isn't "smart." When I was choosing a college, I bought into all of that completely. I thought it was all about rankings and scores. I think differently now. And yeah, I'm happy with the path I took, not that it matters, because I wasn't really in a place then to take any other kind of path. But if I had to go to college now, knowing all I've learned, I might choose one of the colleges in this refreshing book I've been reading, called Colleges That Change Lives: 40 …
And Indeed There Will Be Time
If only it actually were true, as J. Alfred Prufrock says, that there will be time for a hundred visions and revisions before the taking of a toast and tea. In my experience, a single revision can take months. :o)
As I recently promised I would do, I have been dictating *everything* with my voice recognition software, rather than typing, in order to be kind to my arms. It's made a huge difference. But there are certain frequent errors that are making me crazy and even, on occasion, worrying me deeply. My VRS frequently mistakes "will" for "won't" and "won't" for "will." It also mistakes "ever" for "forever," and vice versa. This means that I could say to someone, "I will love you forever," but my VRS could write, "I WON'T love you EVER." Luckily (?), another common mistake is the misrecognition of "loathe" for "love," so maybe what the VRS would actually write is, "…
As I recently promised I would do, I have been dictating *everything* with my voice recognition software, rather than typing, in order to be kind to my arms. It's made a huge difference. But there are certain frequent errors that are making me crazy and even, on occasion, worrying me deeply. My VRS frequently mistakes "will" for "won't" and "won't" for "will." It also mistakes "ever" for "forever," and vice versa. This means that I could say to someone, "I will love you forever," but my VRS could write, "I WON'T love you EVER." Luckily (?), another common mistake is the misrecognition of "loathe" for "love," so maybe what the VRS would actually write is, "…
Some Nights Stay Up Till Dawn
Sometimes, my writing does disruptive things to my daily schedule and I end up staying up until 4 or 5am, for days on end. That's been happening a lot in the last few weeks. It can make life kind of messy, but I just try to go with it and be grateful for a job that allows me to live in all parts of the day. I always think of this gorgeous poem, ganked from the blog of my friend and fellow writer, Sarah Miller:
Some nights stay up till dawn,
as the moon sometimes does for the sun.
Be a full bucket pulled up the dark way
of a well, then lifted out into the light.
-Rumi
Speaking of delightful things: this evening, as I walked the footbridge over the Charles River, a man wearing swimming trunks and a Spanish flag as a cape climbed up onto the edge, yelled "For España!," and jumped into the river. :0) Congratulations to Spain, and I hope people aren't too sad in the Netherlands. It was impossible for me to decide which team to support, because I love people in both places.
Some nights stay up till dawn,
as the moon sometimes does for the sun.
Be a full bucket pulled up the dark way
of a well, then lifted out into the light.
-Rumi
Speaking of delightful things: this evening, as I walked the footbridge over the Charles River, a man wearing swimming trunks and a Spanish flag as a cape climbed up onto the edge, yelled "For España!," and jumped into the river. :0) Congratulations to Spain, and I hope people aren't too sad in the Netherlands. It was impossible for me to decide which team to support, because I love people in both places.
For Thursday, a Favorite Poem
Here's some exceptional fiction I've read recently:
The Piper's Son, by Melina Marchetta. Realism, 328 pages. Told from the alternating perspectives of Tom Mackee and his aunt Georgie. (Tom was one of Frankie's friends in the book Saving Francesca, and if you haven't read Saving Francesca, well, I couldn't recommend it more highly; it's one of my all-time favorite books.) The Piper's Son comes out in Australia in March; I don't know when it's coming out elsewhere, but if I find out, I'll tell you. (Here's a little more info about the book, from Marchetta's site.) ETA 3/10/10: It's coming out in the USA in March of 2011. Yeesh! That's far away!
Lyra's Oxford, by Philip Pullman. Fantasy, 64 pages. A story about Lyra and Pan which takes place in Lyra's Oxford not too long after the events of the His Dark Materials trilogy; plus, other things. (If you haven't read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy…
The Piper's Son, by Melina Marchetta. Realism, 328 pages. Told from the alternating perspectives of Tom Mackee and his aunt Georgie. (Tom was one of Frankie's friends in the book Saving Francesca, and if you haven't read Saving Francesca, well, I couldn't recommend it more highly; it's one of my all-time favorite books.) The Piper's Son comes out in Australia in March; I don't know when it's coming out elsewhere, but if I find out, I'll tell you. (Here's a little more info about the book, from Marchetta's site.) ETA 3/10/10: It's coming out in the USA in March of 2011. Yeesh! That's far away!
Lyra's Oxford, by Philip Pullman. Fantasy, 64 pages. A story about Lyra and Pan which takes place in Lyra's Oxford not too long after the events of the His Dark Materials trilogy; plus, other things. (If you haven't read Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy…
In Which I ♥ My New Year's Routine
Slovak cover of Graceling ------------>
So, one of my favorite tasks this time of year is The Changing of the Daily Planner (henceforth, ∆DP). ∆DP involves putting last year's and this year's planners side by side; going through last year's; and writing into this year's, in ink of significant colors, the things that happen every year (birthdays, bill-paying days, tax-paying days, etc.). It also involves writing into this year's planner all the plans for 2010 that I've already made.
I LOVE THIS TASK. This is partly because my daily planner is the Women Artists Datebook, which contains quotes at the bottom of every page, artwork every few pages, and poems here and there. While moving from the old planner to the new one, I get to review last year's favorite quotes and poems and peek ahead to this year's.
Today I'm going to share some of the joy of ∆DP 2010. :o)
A few favorite quotes from the old year:
... the job of the artist is not to resolve or bea…
So, one of my favorite tasks this time of year is The Changing of the Daily Planner (henceforth, ∆DP). ∆DP involves putting last year's and this year's planners side by side; going through last year's; and writing into this year's, in ink of significant colors, the things that happen every year (birthdays, bill-paying days, tax-paying days, etc.). It also involves writing into this year's planner all the plans for 2010 that I've already made.
I LOVE THIS TASK. This is partly because my daily planner is the Women Artists Datebook, which contains quotes at the bottom of every page, artwork every few pages, and poems here and there. While moving from the old planner to the new one, I get to review last year's favorite quotes and poems and peek ahead to this year's.
Today I'm going to share some of the joy of ∆DP 2010. :o)
A few favorite quotes from the old year:
... the job of the artist is not to resolve or bea…
Rethinking the Blog
So, the blog posts I like to write are the ones that don't have anything to do with news. They're the posts about random thoughts, the poetry or poll posts, the posts in which I answer FAQs or talk about writing and life. They are NOT the posts in which I say, guys, here's what's happening to my books in the world. And recently I've felt overwhelmed by news in my own posts.... and that's why I've decided to make a link on the left for news, and put all news there. If anything spectacular happens, of course I'll mention it in a blog post (I'll let you know if I win the Nobel Prize in physics, make the Olympic figure skating team, or sprout an extra head, all of which are equally likely), but from now on, any news will be recorded behind my News link, and not here. Make sense? We'll see how it works.
This leaves me free to talk about the three most recent books I've read and loved!
So, I'm really terrible at writing book reviews, and…
This leaves me free to talk about the three most recent books I've read and loved!
So, I'm really terrible at writing book reviews, and…
This Being Human Is a Guest House
Sarah Miller posted this poem on her lovely blog last January and it wowed me so much that I printed it out and stuck it on my wall. Sarah, thanks for introducing me to a poem that I love every single day.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door, laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
****
Feel free to leave a favorite poem in the comments. :)
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door, laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
- Rumi
****
Feel free to leave a favorite poem in the comments. :)
A Palamino Poem for Winter
I subscribed recently to NPR's Writer's Almanac, and have been enjoying reading one poem a day. I haven't posted a poem in a while, so here's a recent favorite:
The Palamino Stallion by Alden Nowlan
Though the barn is so warm
that the oats in his manger,
the straw in his bed
seem to give off smoke —
though the wind is so cold,
the snow in the pasture
so deep he'd fall down
and freeze in an hour —
the eleven-month-old
palomino stallion
has gone almost crazy
fighting and pleading
to be let out.
****** Have a poem to share? Go for it :o)
The Palamino Stallion by Alden Nowlan
Though the barn is so warm
that the oats in his manger,
the straw in his bed
seem to give off smoke —
though the wind is so cold,
the snow in the pasture
so deep he'd fall down
and freeze in an hour —
the eleven-month-old
palomino stallion
has gone almost crazy
fighting and pleading
to be let out.
****** Have a poem to share? Go for it :o)
A Favorite Poem of 2008
I use the Women Artists Datebook, and one of my quiet January pleasures is closing up last year's datebook and opening my new one. I transfer birthdays; I fill in travel plans; I take stock of the things I know about the year ahead. I also look over all the art and quotes and poems in the old datebook. I never love all the poems, but there's always one that knocks my socks off. Here's the poem I loved most in my datebook in 2008:
Soup and Bread
by Diane Swan
Christopher's girlfriend
has a green cockatiel
and he tells the family at dinner
that cuttlebone-- what the bird
sharpens its beak on--
comes from a squid.
I am startled. He knows more
than I have told him.
One lunchtime years ago
he called me an instructicon
and often I did talk
as if my children were tall glass vases
formed to contain my twigs of trivia,
long branches of perennial wisdom.
What I wanted, though I didn't know it then,
was that clean clothes, knowledge,
bread, everything good
would come to them through me.
Now t…
Soup and Bread
by Diane Swan
Christopher's girlfriend
has a green cockatiel
and he tells the family at dinner
that cuttlebone-- what the bird
sharpens its beak on--
comes from a squid.
I am startled. He knows more
than I have told him.
One lunchtime years ago
he called me an instructicon
and often I did talk
as if my children were tall glass vases
formed to contain my twigs of trivia,
long branches of perennial wisdom.
What I wanted, though I didn't know it then,
was that clean clothes, knowledge,
bread, everything good
would come to them through me.
Now t…
Race, Poems, and Knitted Cuppycakes
How happy am I that Mitali Perkins has blogged about the question of whether authors should describe a character's race? And that Roger Sutton and The Longstockings are joining in? This is an issue I think about a lot, generally coming to no useful conclusions, so it's nice to see what other people think. Check it out -- join in -- ponder.
I've been taking a few days off, more or less. Recovering from Fire revisions and preparing myself to dive back into Book 3 -- waiting for it to call to me. Writing is partly about discipline, sure, but it's also about waiting, not forcing anything. Being patient; letting it come at its own pace.
I said this, or something like it, to my father once. Later that day, he came back to me and handed me this poem.
The Steps By Paul Valéry Translated by Donald Petersen
Your steps, children of my still hours, Solemnly and slowly placed Towards the bed of my wakefulness, Proceed now, cool and chaste.
Person most pure, saintly shade, How calm you…
I've been taking a few days off, more or less. Recovering from Fire revisions and preparing myself to dive back into Book 3 -- waiting for it to call to me. Writing is partly about discipline, sure, but it's also about waiting, not forcing anything. Being patient; letting it come at its own pace.
I said this, or something like it, to my father once. Later that day, he came back to me and handed me this poem.
The Steps By Paul Valéry Translated by Donald Petersen
Your steps, children of my still hours, Solemnly and slowly placed Towards the bed of my wakefulness, Proceed now, cool and chaste.
Person most pure, saintly shade, How calm you…