California Fever

yes, you

Anyone wanna join me in an August poem-a-day fest?  I'm writing these in the spirit of what Natalie Goldberg describes in Writing Down the Bones when she talks about spontaneous writing booths.  These are quick-hit, first draft poems.  And in the spirit of a spontaneous writing booth, if anyone wants to leave a one-word prompt they'd like to have a poem for, leave it in the comments.

My August poem #2 is here. 

Tomales Bay

Because he's a good sport, Jeffrey agreed to ride to West Marin with me yesterday afternoon when he was done with work.  It's been hot.  We love the heat, but I was craving some cool coastal air.  But because we got a late start, by the time we neared the coast the fog was already rolling back in (all clumpy, like a smoke machine), so we stopped at Heart's Desire Beach on Tomales Bay where there was still sun and had our late afternoon picnic there.

The real truth (and J would tell you this) is that I've been a tad "mopey" (his word) the past couple of days over having to go back to work today.  He knew I needed a change of scenery on my last vacation day.  He typically drives when we ride somewhere together.  It's not that he doesn't think I'm a good driver, but he actually enjoys driving and I much prefer being a passenger.  But I drove yesterday and once we hopped off 101, I enjoyed it.  I grew up driving windy roads through redwood groves and river canyons, so driving some of the windy roads in West Marin County is a joy for me. 

Although he's spent time in Marin, he'd never been to the western part of the county.  Sitting at Tomales Bay, he was struck by how the view from Heart's Desire Beach seemed so similar to our old neighborhood beach on St. Thomas, Magens Bay.  I could sort of see it--Tomales Bay being sort of a breezy, Northern California version of that tropical beach.  But just now, when I looked at one of the photos, I realized what he meant.  You be the judge.

Here's Magens Bay taken from what was our typical weekend perch:

Here's Tomales Bay yesterday:

**********************

In Twyla Tharp's book, The Creative Habit, she talks about the power of ritual.  She says, "It's vital to establish some rituals...at the beginning of the creative process, when you are most at peril of turning back, chickening out, giving up, or going the wrong way."  And:  "Turning something into a ritual eliminates the question, Why am I doing this?"

That said, as I mentioned in the previous post, I've decided my morning ritual this August will be to write a daily poem.  I make no promises that they'll be good or interesting or well-crafted.  (The latter because I wouldn't even know how to do that.  Literally.)   They may vary greatly in length.  I have no idea what they'll be like or about--I never do until I sit down to write one.  I'm going to partake of this ritual so that I don't "go the wrong way" this month when I return to my present job.  And because I don't really care to ask myself "Why am I doing this?" about writing poetry.  I just know I like to do it.  August poem #1 is here.

new Darfur projects

(Photo by Maura Lanahan - Courtesy of IFC)

Actor Don Cheadle, who has written with John Prendergast the book Not On Our Watch, will be the guest on IFC's The Henry Rollins Show this Friday, June 8th, at 11 pm EDT.  Cheadle will be talking about how he came to be involved in Darfur and what he's doing to fight the genocide there.  He'll also be talking about his book which details not only his and Prendergast's involvement in Darfur, but also the involvement of others and how each of us can take action.  Cheadle is also a partner in the group, Not On Our Watch, which is working to raise awareness of the situation in Darfur and to raise funds for International Rescue Committee for its work there. 

On June 6th, Amnesty International launched Eyes on Darfur which contains satellite imagery of Darfur.  Now each of us can be a witness to the horrors and devastation in Darfur through Eyes on Darfur's satellite images, first-hand accounts and videos.  Don't wait for mainstream media to pick up a story on the genocide in Darfur--SEE FOR YOURSELF what's happening there RIGHT NOW.

And on June 12th, Warner Brothers will release a 2-disc CD, Instant Karma: The Campaign to Save Darfur featuring the music of John Lennon.  Proceeds will benefit Amnesty International and the fight to stop the genocide in Darfur.  The rights to Lennon's songs were donated by Yoko Ono who is donating publishing rights.  Listen to some of the tracks and pre-order it at MTV's The Leak here. If you're on MySpace, you can add this project as a friend here.  And Amnesty International lists some other ways you can get involved here.

6/8/07 - EDITED TO ADD:  BlogHer has unveiled BlogHers Act, a new community that will choose one global issue to focus on for the next year.  They'll also use the issues you speak up about to compile a voter manifesto that lets our candidates know what issues BlogHer members care about in the 2008 election.  So here's your chance--speak up!  Details are here. (You can either write a post on your blog and link to it or leave your issue choice in the comments.)  It will come as no surprise to you that the global issue I care most about is Darfur.  Britt Bravo shares that passion and her post about it is HERE.

Ten Zen Seconds

I think Eric Maisel's Ten Zen Seconds might be my new favorite thing...even though I haven't tried it yet.  Maisel is a prolific author and considered by many to be the Granddaddy of creativity coaching.  I've never read any of his books, but his most recent one sounds like a gem.  I discovered it via a comment Catherine left at Poetry Thursday in Liz Elayne's post here.  In that post, Liz offers a gentle reminder on how we can let go of self-judgment.  (Although, to be honest, I'd say I've probably spent more time lately sitting in judgment of others.  But I think I'm ready to hang up my robe, hand over my gavel and walk away from the bench...)

Catherine interviewed Maisel as part of his recent blog tour and you can read the interview here.

In that interview, Maisel says Ten Zen Seconds is:

"...a very simple but powerful technique for reducing your stress, getting yourself centered, and reminding yourself about how you want to live your life."

"You use a deep breath, five seconds on the inhale and five seconds on the exhale, as a container for important thoughts that aim you in the right direction in life..."

He's developed what he calls 12 "incantations," and in the blog interview he lists them divided by inhale and exhale.  You know how you read or come across something and it seems so simple that you start thinking it can't possibly work--it's too easy!  I suspect a lot of people might have the same initial reaction to Ten Zen Seconds.  Read some of the reviews here.  It sounds from those reviews like this simple little technique might lead to big shifts. 

"...reminding yourself about how you want to live your life."  And the idea of using our breath as a "container for important thoughts that aim you in the right direction in life."  If ever I needed a reminders about mindful breathing and right direction, it's lately.  I'm going give Ten Zen Seconds a try.

ripple

I'm tired...tired of all of this extra work at my job.  I have about another week of it, and the worst part of it is over.  We have late start on Wednesday mornings at school, and I think as soon as I arrive this morning I'm going to grab all of those scattered emails cluttering my desk and fling them on the floor in my work area and sort them to figure out what the hell I'm not getting done while I'm devoting my days to test coordination.  I didn't sleep much or well Monday night, and as a result, my ass was dragging yesterday.  J had a gig in San Jose and was gone by the time I got home.  All I wanted to do was put on my jammies, eat some comfort food and watch a little TV.  I did the first two, but fell asleep before 7, missing the latter.  Woke up about 10:30 and ended up watching most of A Streetcar Named Desire on cable.  I'd never seen it...even though I can recall as a youngster occasionally putting a hand to my forehead and in the worst Southern accent possible saying, "I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers."  Clearly someone somewhere had told me about Blanche.  Although I don't know where I got the forehead move, since Blanche doesn't do that.  Maybe I thought it was a move utilized by fragile Southern women.

When that was over, Guys and Dolls came on.  I thought about watching it--haven't seen that one either--but opted instead to return to my novel, The Thin Place by Kathryn Davis.  (Grabbed on a whim at the thrift store over the weekend.)  I'm loving it, and I'd love nothing more than to stay in bed this morning and finish it.  But, alas...

Had hoped to maybe write a poem this morning using PT's random prompt generator.  I got "ripple."  Time is short and my energy is low...maybe a quick haiku...

the ripple's circles
connect us yes, but more so
draw me back to self

absolution

The prompt at Sunday Scribblings today is "deepest, darkest."  With April being National Poetry Month, Poetry Thursday has launched their prompt-a-day feature for April.  Today's prompt is "absolve."  I'm going to see if I can somehow merge the two...

how can i heal that
broken place still inside
me the place that knows
what's right and still
often doesn't do it
the place that keeps
me in avoidance about
stillness and quiet where
the hamsters in my
mind break world sprint
records on their wheels
it's like there are
wires jiggled loose
from lurching about
all those years it's the
place where my shame
lives in a cluttered
basement the place
you want to scream out
"don't go down the stairs!"
where vendors line the
streets peddling jealousy
and meanness and
resentment and revenge
they lure me in with sale
signs promising a 50%
discount on karma
where shortcuts are the
norm and self-servingness
lives in the mirror where
everyone dances one
step forward and two
back

i beat myself up over all
that i still do and all
that i am not until i
realize that absolution
is a minute by minute
business and i turn off
the play-by-play running
in my head and look out
at the horizon as a new
day dawns to breathe in
the knowledge yet again
that to quiet the darkness
i need only to kiss the
light

I don't even know what that means--soul.  Traditionally it is believed to be the component of ourselves that survives physical death; a reflection of the Holy, made up of light and breath and silence and love, of everything ancient and of babies about to be born.  C. S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul.  You are a soul.  You have a body."  If this is right, we have a purpose, which is to shine, like the moon shining in the sky; or to paraphrase the old bumper sticker:  Think globally, shine locally.

~ Anne Lamott, Grace (Eventually) - Thoughts on Faith

Taylor's birthday

THANK YOU for all of your very kind and supportive comments.  I truly appreciate it.  I'm going to carry all of you with me as I head out on what will surely be quite a road trip...

Shadow #7 is here.  I ran errands after work and by the time I took this photo, Jeffrey was cooking a take-n-bake pizza and getting ready to head to a gig.  I walked to the park around the corner trying to find a slice of light in the setting sun.  Plopped my butt on the curb at the park and snapped--didn't even care what it looked like.  I was tired.  I am tired.  I'd made sure to cover anything that might come up next week at work, and my coworkers are all being very gracious in offering to help out any way they can.  I learned today that we not only get bereavement leave--we get up to 5 days for out-of-state travel for it.  So I'm able to take all of next week off with pay.  Even better, Spring Break is the week of April 9th.  That means that I'm off work for the next 16 days.  Just typing that almost makes me cry.  I've been really ready for a break--I just could have never expected my break would double in length because of a family loss.

The viewing is Wednesday night in Phoenix; the service is Thursday morning.  It looks like we'll hit the road sometime on Monday.  I'll keep you posted.  I'm hoping Marty and Chelle will bring their laptop--we'll see.

With everything that's happened, I completely forgot to mention here that TODAY is Taylor's 6th birthday.  I thought some of you might want to pop over to her blog to wish her a Happy Birthday.  I'm going to do that right now...

And then I'm going to put on my PJ's, grab the new Annie* and curl up in bed.  I might even have another good cry.

(*Hey, look, she's in Portland on Tuesday night.  The Bagdad is where they shot some of this film.  That Hawthorne neighborhood is my old stomping grounds.)

"We're all telepathically sharing our experiences."

I watched this movie today.  It's called Waking Life and it was written and directed by Richard Linklater.  It's pretty darn brilliant.  Stunning visually.  Innovative in its animation techniques.  And packing a powerful message.  In another scene, a guy in overalls playing a ukelele tells the protagonist, Wiley, that:  "The trick is to combine your waking, rational abilities with the infinite possibilities of your dreams.  Because if you can do that, you can do anything."  I can't tell you how many times in my life (since I dream like crazy and always remember them upon waking) that I've thought something I dreamed was really clever or creative or intense or riotously funny or amazing.  And then it'll hit me:  whatever was knocking my socks off was a product of my own mind in its most relaxed state.  It always make me wonder how I can tap into that place in my waking life.  I started to say my "awake life," but how awake can I be if my conscious self is blocking the entrance to that super-creative place?

In the Julie Delpy-Ethan Hawke exchange in that YouTube video, he says that line I used as the title of this post:  "We're all telepathically sharing our experiences."  Sometimes I wonder if this is what synchronicity really is--moments of us breaking through the mental and emotional membranes we surround ourselves with to tap into a collective consciousness. 

On Tuesday, I got a friend request from a guy named Brad Listi at MySpace.  I'd never heard of him and have no idea how he found me, but as I always do, I checked out his profile before deciding whether or not to approve his request.  Turns out he's a writer in L.A.  Wrote a novel called Attention. Deficit. Disorder.  And it's not just any novel either--it's a great fucking book.  But I'll get to that in a minute.  The book has its own MySpace page. And after reading several of the blog entries at the book's page, I 'friended' both the author's and the book's pages.  This guy's not only written a kick-ass first novel, he also writes a great fucking blog.  (Sorry for all the cursing, but that's how I talk in 'real life.')  Read his blog.  You'll see.  You know how many blogs I read, right?  (Way too many.)  It's a great blog.

Now, I'm broke as broke can be right now, so I'm afraid ol' Brad's not gonna make any money off me this week, but I did want to read his book.  I went to my library's online catalog and found there was a copy of his book available.  I'd gotten an email from the library that a book I'd requested, Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist (which I've been meaning to read for years) was in.  So Thursday after work, I swung by the library on my way home to pick up both books.  I'd already gone through the checkout line when I remembered that we were in between Netflix movies, so I went back in to the DVD racks and in about 90 seconds of quick flipping (it's not a huge selection, obviously) I grabbed three DVD's.  One of those was Waking Life.  I recognized it as a Linklater film, but in that moment, the only Linklater film I could recall was Dazed and Confused (and I think I've only seen a few minutes of that film).

When I got home I checked my email and found a message that Rosa had left a comment on a blog post I'd written over on my Ning network about found art--something Rosa does beautifully. I'd written that visual art (outside of photography) isn't something that comes easily to me--I don't experience any sort of creative flow in those mediums.  But I'm intrigued by and drawn to the concept of found art and was trying to think how I could reshape that concept into something that would work for me.  Rosa's comment was to suggest that I try found poems.  (An idea I love, by the way.)

When I first started the Ning network, I'd linked in a post there to Evelyn Rodriguez's blog, Crossroads Dispatches.  I've been reading her blog for years and think it's one of the best out there.  She'd just started a series she was calling "forty days of everyday inspiration" and I thought the Ning'ers would enjoy it.  And she was about embark on a trip to one of my favorite places in the world, New Orleans.  N'Awlins (as my bayou friend calls it) is one of the few places I've been that felt like home to me, even though I've never lived there.  In an ironic twist, I'm from a town called Crescent City, which is New Orleans' nickname.  Although Crescent City is my hometown, it's never felt like home--it just feels familiar.  And I hope you know what I mean by that distinction.

Right after reading Rosa's comment about found poetry, I read this post at Evelyn's where she talked about encountering a street poet in New Orleans.  He'd written a poem for her on the spot.  It reminded me of that scene in Before Sunrise or maybe Before Sunset (I couldn't remember which) where Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke encounter a poet along a river bank while they're out walking at night, and I included that in the comment I left on Evelyn's post.

Thursday night I began reading Attention. Deficit. Disorder. On page 188 he writes, "I remember we went to see a post-run showing of Before Sunrise, the Richard Linklater film..."  As I read that, I remember thinking, "Hey, I just left a comment on Evelyn's blog mentioning that film..." In response to her encounter with the New Orleans street poet...which had triggered something in me having read about it right after reading Rosa's comment that I might want to try leaving found poems. But the Linklater reference in the book escaped me in that moment. 

After work on Friday, I checked in at a few places online and saw that Leah had a new post up at Ning--talking about how she'd seen in her Bloglines that Evelyn had a new post...and that it featured her art.  Leah said in her post that things were starting to feel like dominoes.  I knew the feeling.

I continued reading Listi's book for two hours between the time I got home from work Friday night until I had to head back to school to chaperone the dance, and continued reading late that night after I got home.  My sleep patterns being what they are (irregular), I woke up about halfway through the night, grabbed the novel and took to the couch where I alternately read and dozed until I finished it early Saturday morning.  At one point I dreamed that I worked at a Catholic school (with a staff of nuns), but I slipped away at lunchtime one day to hear Curtis perform at a funky club across the street from the school.  I smoked a joint in the club's bathroom first and was higher than a kite.  I stayed for one set in the bar and then got paranoid that I probably reeked of pot and started spraying myself with perfume before heading back to work at the school.  And then I realized that SHIT!...I wasn't supposed to be smoking pot!  I'd just thrown away 17 years worth of sobriety!  I was relating that to a friend--how I'd fucked up and how bad I felt about it.  And how I shouldn't have left at lunchtime without telling anyone I was leaving to take a lunch break, but that my friend had recently recovered from liver cancer and I'd wanted to hear him sing.  After I woke I thought it was interesting that I was able to weave some truth into such a weird dream.  Because as most of you know, Curtis did recover from terminal liver cancer by getting a liver transplant last Fall.  But I was greatly relieved to realize that the pot had only happened in my dream life.  And last time I checked, that doesn't count at A.A.  But the part about telling the friend seemed so real--it didn't seem like I was still inside a dream layer.

Around mid-day on Saturday, I popped in the Waking Life DVD.  But because I'd had a super-busy week and had been up half the night reading, I kept nodding off.  It seemed kind of ironic that I kept dreaming in the middle of watching a film about the nature of our realities in our waking versus dream lives.  Wiley has a hard time waking in the film.  It wasn't until I saw the Julie Delpy-Ethan Hawke scene above that I remembered that Richard Linklater had done both Before Sunrise and Before Sunset (even though Listi had mentioned one of them in his book).

What does any of this have to do with inspiration, the prompt at Sunday Scribblings today?  Hell if I know.  All I know is that when things start seeming interconnected like this, I start paying closer attention.  And my dreams lately have been off the hook. 

I just looked up inspiration and in my dictionary it says:

1. inspiring
2. an inspiring influence
3. a sudden brilliant idea

The word below it is inspire:

1. to stimulate (a person) to creative or other activity or to express certain ideas
2. to fill with or instill a certain feeling
3. to communicate ideas, etc. by a divine agency

And the word after that is inspirit.  I'd completely forgotten about this, but I think I have a (unused) blog with that word in the title that I set up years ago.  It means:

1.  to put life into; animate (emphasis mine)
2.  to encourage

Now go read Brad Listi's book.  You won't be disappointed.  There's one scene that didn't quite work for me, but otherwise it's pitch perfect. 

loving the written word

I haven't been a terribly consistent blogger the past couple of weeks, but it's because things are really getting busy at work.  Like now.  I'm home for a couple of hours before heading back to school for one of our parent information nights.  So in lieu of a real post, I'll offer up a few links.

First and foremost, I hope those of you who participate have been by the fabulous new POETRY THURSDAY site--fabulous!

One of my new favorite bloggers is Rosa Murillo.  She does a thing called "Found Art" on Tuesdays.  Today's post is about superheroes.  She asks what kind of superhero you'd like to be.  She mentions patience in her post.  Lord knows I need to increase my superhero powers in that area.  ;)  But what I really loved was what she did for Found Art last Tuesday--she made a fake iPod out of an Altoids tin and the inner workings of a cassette tape.  Maybe it's because I'm old-school and a bit of a Luddite, but I loved it!  (Scroll down to her January 30th post to see it.)

Natalie D'Arbeloff, she of the "Conversations with God" cartoons, has published The God Interviews at Lulu.  You can check it out here.  For those of you unfamiliar with Natalie's thought-provoking and delightful work, more info is here.

Patti Digh's pal, Sebastian Matthews, has published a book of poetry entitled We Generous. Patti's imaginary poetry boyfriend, Billy Collins, has praised Matthews' work.  I know that's probably endorsement enough for Patti...which means it's more than enough for me.  ;)

I'm positively thrilled to say that I'll be hosting a "Liar's Party" on March 13th for Patry Francis as part of her The Liar's Diary WEST COAST BOOK TOUR.  Yes, you read that right--she's coming to OUR SIDE OF THE COUNTRY!   It won't be at our place (it's way too tiny), but at the home of one of my coworkers.  We've already got our guest list and, well, let's just say we're quite excited to meet Patry.  :)

Jeffrey just told me that he spoke to my sister-in-law today and we're on for Family Night at my brother's on Friday night.  We'll be celebrating 12 (unwed) years for Jeffrey and me (on Friday) and my nephew Zak's 16th birthday (on Saturday).  Jeffrey's agreed to try his first batch of crock pot spaghetti sauce for the occasion.  Did I ever post the recipe here?  If not, let me know and I will.

If I seem absent from your blogs, just know I'll try to get caught up on the weekends.  I've got two back-to-back three-day weekends coming up...and boy, am I ready! 

The Liar's Diary

I'm kinda crazy busy at work this week, so I'm afraid I don't have a poem for Poetry Thursday today.  The truth is I had no clue how to incorporate mathemetical terms into one (see the prompt post if you don't know what I'm referring to).  I LOATHE math.  :)  But that's okay, because there are more pressing matters at hand...

Patry's novel is being released today!  Run, speedwalk, crawl to your nearest bookstore and check it out!  Getting a book published in this day and age is no easy feat, so you know it has to be good.  I thought about pre-ordering a copy through Amazon, but I wanted the satisfaction of walking into Borders (just a few blocks from our house) after work today and seeing (hopefully) a whole bunch of copies on the shelf and purchasing one in person. 

From the Amazon site:

About the Author
Patry Francis’s poetry and short stories have appeared in the Ontario Review, The Massachusetts Review, the Tampa Review, and The American Poetry Review, among other publications. She is a three-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize and has twice been the recipient of the Massachusetts Cultural Council grant. The Liar’s Diary is her first novel.  

And you thought she was just a lovely, super-nice, creative blogger.  ;) 

Best wishes to Patry today (I'm so excited for her!)  I hope The Liar's Diary is a big, big success!