I’m thankful for sun.
I’m thankful for poetry month, and for a chance to catch my breath now that it’s over.
I’m grateful for the chance to see The Art of Racing in the Rain at Book-It Thursday night. (It was pouring when we left the theatre, so we walked in the rain to the car and got pretty wet and talked about how it could be romantic and really it was.)
I’m thankful for making progress on writing copy for the Cloudlift Cellars website and for the acceptance that this is iterative–I’m not going to nail it on the first draft (I might not even be close), so I just need to write something and know that I’ll have plenty of time to revise or even rewrite it. It helps me to remember this for poetry, too.
I’m thankful for friends.
I’m thankful for PLUME, Kathleen Flenniken’s new book–for her unflinching look at the Hanford nuclear program and its aftereffects in these poems that are taut, restrained, and generous all at the same time. (And check out the redactions.)
I’m thankful for ideas–lots of ideas! I’m trying to learn that it’s okay to have ideas that don’t pan out in the end, and that it’s good to find other people who can help you with ideas. My latest idea came out of thinking about the difference between music’s place in our culture and poetry’s place–and I think it has something to do with poetry generally being fenced in by a page or an event. That’s where it exists, and it’s a contained experience. I’m not saying this right. And poetry on the page is kind of a meta experience–poems traffic in images that evoke sensory memories (what this looks like, what this sounds like), but music is hearing, listening, directly engaging that sense. And music becomes a soundtrack. Songs intersect with moments in our lives, interweave with memories, so that hearing a song transcends the immediate and gives us this rich sensory experience. Am I sounding a little crazy yet? So can poetry be a soundtrack? How?
Did I mention sun?
And I’m thankful for my husband’s great idea today to drive up and see the tulips!
Open the door. Open my heart.