Local Poet Alert!!
First Friday in January at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts you will have the opportunity to meet and hear four WONDERFUL poets reading- Deborah Ager, Bernadette Geyer, Anna Claire Hodge, and John Hoppenthaler. They will read 25 minutes each from 6pm to 8pm in the atrium. Free.
Click here for more info- I'll be posting individual pages for each poet soon!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
30 Things to Stop Doing to Yourself!
There are mornings when my web reading while I breakfast is a terrible waste-
not this morning.
I wish the list were shorter so I could carry it around, some of the thoughts are repetitive, but whatever-
Go Here and Free yourself
then get back to whatever you were doing before you read this. Did it make any difference?
not this morning.
I wish the list were shorter so I could carry it around, some of the thoughts are repetitive, but whatever-
Go Here and Free yourself
then get back to whatever you were doing before you read this. Did it make any difference?
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
If you're looking for my poem-a-day entries
If you're looking for my poem-a-day entries-
you won't find them here anymore. They were all drafts, unformed, unfinished poem starts- and I will be fiddling with them for awhile.
I miss writing a whole poem each day, I feel a little lost, aimless. January- I'm looking forward to getting serious again.
Got a couple of no's from my submissions, both with nice comments and please send more, it's a good kind of rejection, I suppose.
I've had two wonderful opportunities to write, one at The Porches (if you look at the photo on the webpage, my room was second floor with the chimney- the blue room- see below). The other time "away" was house sitting for a friend west of Richmond, where I slept a lot and made some clay doodads. It was good to clear my head, but home is still somewhat chaotic, what with four adults in a small house (and we all have different schedules).
Writing is a solitary ordeal. When I was in college, music was a solitary ordeal. Creativity, for me, is primarily solitary. The older I get, the more I crave silence and empty rooms. I was to get rid of the excess around me, pare down, uncomplicate.
I sense some new directions for the winter. Come with me.
you won't find them here anymore. They were all drafts, unformed, unfinished poem starts- and I will be fiddling with them for awhile.
I miss writing a whole poem each day, I feel a little lost, aimless. January- I'm looking forward to getting serious again.
Got a couple of no's from my submissions, both with nice comments and please send more, it's a good kind of rejection, I suppose.
I've had two wonderful opportunities to write, one at The Porches (if you look at the photo on the webpage, my room was second floor with the chimney- the blue room- see below). The other time "away" was house sitting for a friend west of Richmond, where I slept a lot and made some clay doodads. It was good to clear my head, but home is still somewhat chaotic, what with four adults in a small house (and we all have different schedules).
Writing is a solitary ordeal. When I was in college, music was a solitary ordeal. Creativity, for me, is primarily solitary. The older I get, the more I crave silence and empty rooms. I was to get rid of the excess around me, pare down, uncomplicate.
I sense some new directions for the winter. Come with me.
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