Newness

With my hours cut at the museum I’m getting back to things I wanted to be doing.  I made soup, I worked on poems, I read, and I drew.  Not a bad Wednesday, even if I wasn’t getting monetarily compensated for it.  

Collage with flower and wasp moth

It’s been a while since I’ve heard from a friend who moved off to England, but I’m still using a book I have on extended loan from him, Amazon Insects.  I could lie and say I don’t know why insects fascinate me so much, but I know.  Their joints are beautiful, and their bodies segment in such linear ways.  Against a water-brushed page ink blurs nicely into wings and antennae flare with a quick drag of a point.  I’m trying to put more thought into my collages, control my lines a bit better.  In college I was told I was impatient and took too little time with my art, and in retrospect I can see the truth in it.  I liked the spontaneity of splatters, but part of my blurred lines was to mask what I felt was an inability to draw precisely.  I think I like the addition of of sharp edges like stained glass into my work.  I started to work edges in when I came out to Seattle but they were cut with a blade and objects suspended within.  An easy edge.  I want to combine the easy and what I find more difficult; challenge my control.

The Lovely Kate Durbin

Water Tower

Sun Shadow

Black Hole Sun

A good friend from grad school came up to Seattle for a few days.  After a few misses, we were finally able to get together yesterday, and we ran around Capitol Hill and Seattle-at-large for a little bit.  She has two books coming out, The Ravenous Audience (on Black Goat Press) and Amelia Earhart: Fragments Found in a 1937 Aviator’s Boot (on Dancing Girl Press).  I’m going to bring a few copies of her chapbook to work and see if the museum is interested in selling them in the gift shop.  It’s an absolutely lovely series, and I hope they will.  Hopefully next time Kate comes we’ll be able to do a reading together.  

We went to Volunteer Park, and this time I got to see it in the sunlight as opposed to in the rain.  Beautiful day, wonderful people.  Now I have bread in the oven, I’m looking over my galleys for Letters Through Glass and we have a new president.  A president who had a poet read at his inauguration.  Despite the fog that rolled in this morning, it’s a sunny day.

Disappointments and misty lakes

It is amazing how a bit of exercise can get me in the greatest mood.  Though there was frost glittering on the grass, I pulled on my running gear and hit the roads this morning.  Not very early this morning, I’ll admit, but it felt so good.  The cold air burning my throat, my feet against the road.  When I got down to the lake the mist still hadn’t burned off and the water was completely shrouded.  Mist is a strange thing- you’re never within it but always looking at, approaching.  

When we were driving back from Oregon, the mist clung to everything.  Fog perhaps more than mist, and the fields seemed to belong more in Ireland than on the West Coast.  Maybe it’s over romanticism to assume fog belongs in Ireland, or along moors covered in heather, with crumbling stone houses and sheep.  I’ve never been somewhere like that, but I can imagine it.  And then I feel the need to travel, to pack everything into a bag and just depart.  

After my run I came home and sat down to my galleys, finally emailed by Finishing Line Press.  I am too controlling, and the low quality pdf, for ease of emailing, is frustrating for me.  I want to see the text as it will appear, the kerning issues sorted.  I should trust them at their job, but I’m worried.  I just want to craft something beautiful, and I think I need to find a way to make my own books.  I’m thankful for the publishing opportunity but I can’t say the path has been smooth.  I need too much control and I’m sure it’s as frustrating to work with me as it is for me to work with someone else.

Thursday: Pink

I did pretty poorly with the pink.  Though I have a lot of pink, and I saw a lot of pink, my little cell phone camera doesn’t work well in low lighting.  So here’s pink from my morning commute: a billboard in the Seattle University St Bus Tunnel.

Pink Billboard