Last night, after traipsing around the Museum of Natural History and Central Park, Laurie and I took the train down to the Village.
It was a good time–an enthusiastic audience and a whole lotta wonderful poems. And my friends Billy and Maureen came–so good to catch up, if only for an hour or two and only part way.
Then we all went to dinner and shared stories of Austen, Paris, Rotterdam, and Patterson.
In Queens, listening to this El rumble by outside.
I’m thankful for the ride my husband gave me to the airport early, early. I’m thankful to be here and for uneventful flights and the cab that got me here. (Even though the train is half a block away, it isn’t running on weekends.)
I’m thankful for time to spend with my friend Laurie.
I’m thankful my new shoes aren’t killing my feet.
I’m thankful for my chance to read at Cornelia Street tonight.
And I’m blogging with my phone, so we’ll see whether any of this works.
This is the window where I’m staying.
Open the door. Open my heart.
My daughter tells me about her friend–how he uses Facebook to get the word out about his upcoming spoken word performances.
He creates a new Facebook profile picture and he asks his friends to use it for their profile pictures. The idea is that it starts to show up a lot–and when other friends ask about it, they get a link to the event.
Does this work? Is it annoying?
I don’t know, but my daughter says I should try it, and this seems like a prime time. If you have friends in the New York area, can you help me get the word out? (And help with this experiment? It could be brilliant–or it could be the fastest way to lose Facebook friends ever.)
Here (again) is the picture:
Here is the link: http://on.fb.me/yGugPH
(In the best interests of the Department of Redundancy Department, I’ve posted a Facebook note, too.)
Countdown to NYC: 2 days
Countdown to The Cornelia Street Café: 3 days
Countdown to Cornelia Street: 4 days.
What to wear: Not yet.
New shoes: Nope, not yet. (All my shoes are clunky, old, and not good for long walks–a triple whammy. I need style plus comfort if I’m going to Gotham.)
And the ups and downs: Today I found out that one of the papers I’d sent p.r. didn’t, in the end, have room to fit us into their calendar. On the one hand (always that one hand!), I was glad they at least showed an interest. But it was still disappointing.
I’ve been trying to stay philosophical. Lately, disappointments seem to be followed (even at a length) by… what’s the antonym of “disappointment”? It seems to even out.
And another sneak preview–Sarah Sarai’s poem “Like Wings”:
What can be said. Speed is
a calling. Desire is a bidding.
Judgment rises from steam
and then where?
Fortune is the heart of
two chambers like wings
and the instinct to soar,
migrate, see the world
and its topographical
gestures. Topography is
the back of a woman seen as
desert or a reptile’s spine
seen as disco hall of mirrors
as glitter and gold lamé.
You have not learned to trust
(the muted instinct).
Fixed stars are lighting
your dance floor. Risk.