I am thankful for Mom, and for getting to celebrate her 80th birthday! I’m thankful my sister and I were able to throw her a party–and that her brother and his wife were able to make it over from Eastern Washington. Man, it was fun!
Really, what can I say after that?
I’m also thankful for the opportunity to read at fogdog gallery. It was a fun evening, with a good crowd and many beautiful paintings, photographs and sculptures in the gallery. A visual feast!
I’m also thankful that I found the gallery–being navigationally challenged–and that it didn’t rain. I’ve learned that I’m not so good at driving on I-5 in the dark in the rain.
I’m thankful for a safe ride up to Bellingham and back–in the rain–and light out most of the way. I’m thankful for the longer days.
Looking back, it mostly hasn’t been an easy week (except for the reading and the party), but a week of gratitude for small things–coffee, warmth, getting things done.
I’ve been reading Breach, by Nicole Cooley, and I get the feeling that maybe she had to write those poems. They have that kind of urgency.
But not every path I start down pulls me that fiercely. Or maybe I’m practicing, trying to learn something new. Even deliberate practice is still practice. Exercises. And can exercises be poems? Sometimes, but they still become isolated as one-offs, not fitting into any bigger picture. (Yes, even though I’m a messy person, I like all my poems to fit in somewhere.)
I know writing consistently is important–the practice, the habit. Learning all the time helps me to be ready when I do trip into that next compelling trail to follow. And late this afternoon I realized that I could maybe find that next project by exploring those one-off poems. Maybe one of them is the key to the door to the next adventure.
But for now, I’m going back to the three (!) projects I thought I’d finished–a combination of much self-doubt and wanting poems to work on. I’m writing new poems for those used-to-be-old projects or I’m diving into deep revision on existing poems–trying to keep my voice limber and my skills sharpening. It gives me the comfort of a project and some open space to explore. Which means I never finish anything. And my mom could have told you that.
Do you like to work on long projects? How do you discover your projects?
Or do like your poems one at a time?
Have you worked on a book-length poem? (That might be the best of both worlds, but I haven’t tried to light that fire yet.)
And now that it’s melting, I’m thankful for the wet/dry vac Tom brought home from the shop. I’m thankful the roads down the hill are clearing–and we still have power!
I’m thankful for yesterday’s sun so bright I needed my shades! The whole week was supposed to be like today: rain rain rain rain rain. And then a little sun. But yesterday was blue and bright and gorgeous. It was a beautiful day for my second cousin’s Bar Mitvah service.
I’m thankful for him and his journey and for a chance to gather with our family and share in that passage.
Thankful for a poem acceptance this week. This morning, I received two rejections in less than half an hour (wow!), so I keep reminding myself of the acceptance that came on Wednesday.
I’m thankful for the hummingbirds.
I’m thankful for hearing Suzanne Vega on the radio this morning talking about Carson McCullers. Back in 1985, I was reading The Lonely Hunter and Carson McCullers’s stories and novels. And in the early fall of that year, at the Folk City 25th Anniversary concert, I heard Suzanne Vega for the first time. Two big influences in one Sunday morning, before coffee.
Yes, we have snow! And yes, it’s lovely. Crunch walking, and all the branches limned in white, trees looking fluffy.
And the power was out only for about three hours. It wasn’t even dark out, although the light was getting mighty gray. Then just as Tom built a fire in the fireplace, juice! Light, heat, and an oven–what’s easy to take for granted until it’s gone, even for a little while.
I’m thankful for the chance to read at The Elliott Bay Book Company yesterday, and thankful the reading went well. John had his harmonica and shakers, Stephen had his kids’ megaphone. And we all had poems.
I’m thankful for my book club and another fabulous meeting plus discussion on Saturday. (We’d read The Submission, by Amy Waldman.)
I’m thankful for waking up on Tuesday and hearing a song by Penguin Café Orchestra on the radio. It was a piece I choreographed to back in the ’80s. A tender nostalgia to start the day.
I’m thankful for all the ideas and inspirations, no matter how quick or small. And persistence. I could work on that more, but I am thankful.
Finally I’m thankful that my cold is slowly going away. Good-bye!
And as I look out at the snow glittering under the streetlights, I’m thankful for the City Light workers and shelters and blankets and everyone who works to keep everyone warm.