Had a little time to work on a poem today before going to dinner with a good friend. I'm pretty happy with how it is coming, but I wonder if it will become what I want it to; I feel like it's a terrible struggle to get poetry to flow these days. I started reading the Elk in Winter poetry book I bought recently, and although I like the images and phrasing, the poems so far have been structured and form, which is unlike how I approach my work these days, so I stopped reading for now; it wasn't as helpful as some other books may be. I'll pick up the Urban Nature collection next and see how far that goes in relating to my writing currently.
My friend and I talked about poetry and publishing our work. She's not been writing of late ... been busy with other things, not had the inspiration or inclination. She's incredibly talented and was so involved in local poetry in the past. In getting her MFA she was made aware of what it takes to be in that accepted, published, elbow-rubbing poetry crowd and she's not willing to do what it takes. I don't blame her because I'm not either. But I do hope she writes and sends her work out again. Although I know we (probably) won't be churning out books and on the poetry circuit, I think we can both reach people with our work, and to me that's what matters really -- connecting with someone, giving someone a look at something beautiful or important or meaningful that may not have happened otherwise. You don't need to be a sassy NYC poet for that.
She also talked with me about some opportunities in NYC for my evening business, so I'll be eager to connect with her on those when I return from my vacation.
It was a great night to be sitting in the park, warm coffee in hand and a cool breeze coming through. The moon was a golden yellow, rising too fast. Teenagers were stretched out on the grass, hanging over benches, trying to build some memories before school comes round again. I wanted to stay out, feel the temperature drop as night fell. It's been too long since I sat outside, catching up with a friend, no pressure to run anywhere or get anything done. If I can just put myself there more often, out in the dusk, in the present moment, letting go, I think I can get back to where I want to be.
My friend and I talked about poetry and publishing our work. She's not been writing of late ... been busy with other things, not had the inspiration or inclination. She's incredibly talented and was so involved in local poetry in the past. In getting her MFA she was made aware of what it takes to be in that accepted, published, elbow-rubbing poetry crowd and she's not willing to do what it takes. I don't blame her because I'm not either. But I do hope she writes and sends her work out again. Although I know we (probably) won't be churning out books and on the poetry circuit, I think we can both reach people with our work, and to me that's what matters really -- connecting with someone, giving someone a look at something beautiful or important or meaningful that may not have happened otherwise. You don't need to be a sassy NYC poet for that.
She also talked with me about some opportunities in NYC for my evening business, so I'll be eager to connect with her on those when I return from my vacation.
It was a great night to be sitting in the park, warm coffee in hand and a cool breeze coming through. The moon was a golden yellow, rising too fast. Teenagers were stretched out on the grass, hanging over benches, trying to build some memories before school comes round again. I wanted to stay out, feel the temperature drop as night fell. It's been too long since I sat outside, catching up with a friend, no pressure to run anywhere or get anything done. If I can just put myself there more often, out in the dusk, in the present moment, letting go, I think I can get back to where I want to be.
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