And thanks to T. for sharing this poem by William Stafford. I, too, am floored by the line “and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.”

Finally, Jeannine Hall Gailey shares some helpful survival tips for everyone who isn’t in Boston at the AWP conference. Her positive perspective inspires me.

A light. A life lived well. And shared beautifully. An inspiration.

I first remembered meeting Jack on a magical night when he and Martha Silano and I read at Edmonds Bookshop. I remember he read this:

But this past spring, again reading together at Edmonds Bookshop, Jack reminded me of the time we’d met years before that, at Scott’s in Mount Vernon. I don’t think he introduced himself. We just talked about short and long poems.

Recently, on a sunny Sunday afternoon when I turned on the car radio, I heard this wonderful, soothing, familiar voice–and it was Jack! On Snap Judgment.

I feel grateful for the times I got to hear him read. I’d been thinking about him, hoping to hear him again.

My heart goes out to his wife, to all his family.

To Jack McCarthy, thank you.

A song on a sunny morning

Take Up Your Spade, by Sara Watkins

Tools for resolutions

Kelli Russell Agodon posted an article about successful resolutions. This was my favorite part:

“What is the outcome you want? What stands in your way? How do you overcome these obstacles? These three simple questions will keep you from being victimized by any situation. Creators change the world. Victims just bitch about stuff.”

A look at creativity

I love it when people write about creativity. I devour it.

Copyblogger posts about 5 Lessons in Creativity from
the Return of Ze Frank. And when Ze Frank talks about creativity…

Another look at happiness

People are working on a new way to measure happiness–the wealth of well-being beyond the GDP.

One way to learn

Penelope Trunk talks about self-awareness:

“I wonder, what is the thing I don’t understand about myself today? I don’t want to take twenty years to figure it out every time. So I started looking for areas where I look like I don’t belong.”

And from the Dream Department

Last night, I dreamed I was running. Ever since I ran the 5K in October, I sometimes dream I’m running. Last night, I was running another 5K–and I felt good! I realized I wasn’t panting, crazy out of breath. But the course was twice around a loop and the second time was boring, plus I kept having to stop to get rid of a jacket or some other detail, and I realized my time would be worse than the last. But then I bumped into Pat Nixon, who was wearing a bright red silk blouse. And I excused myself and kept running, but I ended up at someone’s house (it wasn’t the Nixons’) and while the husband was asking if people wanted a cocktail (something that started with “s” but didn’t sound like Sazarac), I called Betty Ford on the phone. She asked why I was calling her, and I said I wanted to thank her. She still wasn’t sure… Then we sat down in the parlor, and a tiny dog (think of the smallest poodle you’ve ever seen) brought me a toy to throw, but the husband said he didn’t like that toy because it got all over the house and he handed me chew-toy bone and I threw the dog a bone.

The inspiration?

Running and Betty Ford.

Happy Friday!

This was butt-in-chair time, luxuriously.

This past week, with the next grapes still ripening on their vines, my husband and I splurged and dashed down to Palm Springs. Three nights at our favorite hotel, the Viceroy.

We were going to take the tram and go hiking, but it was closed for maintenance. And at desert-level it was much too hot for us fragile northerners.

That left us with two and a half days in the heat by the pool with a manuscript and a stack of books.

Here was the menu:

• Virginia Woolf and her World, by John Lehmann
• Four books of by Fanny Howe (Robeson Street, The Vineyard, One Crossed Out, and The Lyrics)
• The Winter Sun, by Fanny Howe
• My sequences manuscript

I started the manuscript almost a year ago, and many of the poems are inspired by the rooms and the gardens and the general ahh-ness at the Viceroy. Revisiting the manuscript there felt perfect! (Even when the manuscript didn’t…)

And the irony (?) of reading Fanny Howe while nesting in luxury’s lap did not escape me. But this is when I have the time.

This was my way to have a writing or studying residency and a vacation with my husband–with sun and lemons.

Now we’re north again and it’s still hot out–just like summer–but I’m back on the bus, I started my three weeks of Plath immersion.

From the site:

3 guys, 44 days, 11 countries, 18 flights, 38 thousand miles, an exploding volcano, 2 cameras and almost a terabyte of footage… all to turn 3 ambitious linear concepts based on movement, learning and food ….into 3 beautiful and hopefully compelling short films…..

= a trip of a lifetime.

move, eat, learn