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Friday, June 14, 2013

News from the Little Office

I never did exactly get around to creating a room to call my own -- a door to close, a screen with bamboo accents to hide behind -- but nonetheless things have been quite busy as usual here at The Little Office, where I have returned to researching saints. This week the focus has been on Teresa of Avila, a woman of great creative powers, as well as a love for Jesus, and also did you know she was a forerunner of mental prayer? A brillant lady full of strong feelings about the need to restore order (and weekly flagellation) to the convents, along with decalceation (a fancy word for the taking off of one's shoes--who knew?). She also was known to levitate during mass, and she often communed with angels, along with her very own beloved invisible Jesus (sort of like a transparent blow-up doll Savior), which from the sound of it she was having rather deep interpersonal connections with.

She was also a writer, at one point heading off in solitude with quill pen in hand for five years. Imagine! And I was feeling guilty for leaving my husband/children for a few weeks to cloister myself from the slings and arrows of sunbutter sandwiches, Chex Party Mix, and the ever-present for a spot (back handspring... Mom?). But since of course Teresa had no husband or children, five years of cranking out the pages was a piece of cake, or make that a golden lance with a spearpoint an angel jabbed into her so many times she began ecstatically moaning (just what is it about saints and self-mutilation, anorexia, and torture?). 

As you can see, there's been a party going on this week in the inner sanctum, and that's only the half of it. Stay tuned for some new poems that will leave you with a keen understanding of why the smartest women of the 15th century headed straight for the convent.

In the meantime, I leave you with some words from the great Teresa herself:

To reach something good it is useful to have gone astray.

Accustom yourself continually to make many acts of love, for they enkindle and melt the soul.

I know the power obedience has of making things easy which seem impossible. 



Thursday, June 13, 2013

Spellbinding Reading with Kelly Davio & Caleb Barber

Kelly Davio, reading from Burn This House

Caleb Barber, reading from Beasts & Violins

I always know it's going to be an especially great night of poetry when I arrive at The Station to the melodious notes of a whistling-over-time espresso machine, Waylon or Luis working the counter like a dervish, my right hand gal Betty Jean running to the back room to grab more (and more) folding chairs for the spill-over-into-the-street crowd. They come from all over the city, and always they come ready to listen closely, laugh, sigh, and knowingly nod. There are so many great things about bringing people together for a common appreciation, but when it's a do in the name of poetry, gawd help me.

Since Beacon Bards launched in September 2012, every reading/open mic has been special in its own way; last night was the same - though something about it still being LIGHT at 8:30 pm, light, light, and more light all through the reading, coupled with the illuminating words of both Kelly Davio and Caleb Barber, made the night particularly luscent. These two rising stars are definitely ones to watch. Kelly and Caleb both have recently-released collections from Red Hen Press - I picked up copies last night, and can't wait to dive into more of their fine work. Here's just a sampling of what we were graced with:

From "In a Twilight Town," by Caleb Barber:

I'd like to hear about all those goldfish
that never survived through winter
on her parents' porch. I'd like to know how
the couch felt when it froze through.
But the plane for the mail route is spinning on
and this place will always be his stop.
The night makes us all older, and just walking
toward it, she covers her thighs with the dark.

From "Children's Art is Asylum Art," by Kelly Davio:

At recess, children work with a diligence
of bowed heads, use mirrors to burn flags
for invented nations into patchy grass.
They wait for blue sparks from heaven,
for emancipation, the loosening of sky,
the bus home, the family dog--hallelujah 
and hallucination imitating one another
from the eye's corner. 

Poems like these remind me that poetry can be a savior, a redeemer, and a balm, but also a way into a more sharpened notion of who we are and how we live.

Monday, June 3, 2013

Ten Reasons You Should Write Most Days: a Funnel Cloud of Fruition

Long hand draft: May 22
10 Reasons Why You Should Write Most Days

10. It keeps you honest.
9. It feels good.
8. It gives your life a sense of purpose.
7. Instead of making lists of what you want to write, you can skip that step and go straight to writing.
6. It feels wholesome.
5. Because that which is in you which is not brought outward will destroy you.
4. Because it's better than bitching about not having time to write.
3. Because when you are writing you are not wishing you were writing.
2. You were given to write. Write!
1. Because it's important to be caught up in a funnel cloud of fruition.