Friday, June 27, 2008

me in pictures

Created with Flickr and Mosaic Maker. . . (I borrowed this from my cousin, who borrowed it from someone else, etc.)
1. first name; 2. favorite food; 3. high school; 4. favorite color; 5. celebrity crush; 6. favorite drink; 7. dream vacation; 8. favorite dessert; 9. when I grow up; 10. what you love most; 11. one word to describe you; 12. your online nym

Saturday, June 21, 2008

in joy / intellectual communities / in two parts

Just returned from celebrating the birth of my favorite K. She's not actually old until Sunday, but I convinced her we should wine and dine tonight. We found ourselves at Sushi in Joy, then at Target for pomegranate ice cream, and finally in front of K's TV watching some movie with Hugh Jackman. Considering how much of the night was exactly what I needed after a crazy work week, I'm not sure if I should be allowed to count it as the celebration of K. Although the cute server at inJoy did give (both of) us free ice cream.


I've meant to post this week in response to last Friday's post and the comments it generated. Well, that post and AA's chat comment to me about my need for intellectual communities.

I didn't mean to imply that April or FOB or Poetasters were dead to me. I live for emails and blog posts and IMs and the occasional visit, like the one I just wrote about. K keeps me on my toes aesthetically; Ginsberg offers careful consideration of what I'm doing in my writing which almost always leads to stronger drafts and new poems; Anna and Brooke are two of my best cheerleaders; TB will let me bitch about how pathetic I am without making me believe it; Theric pushes me to send out my writing; etc., etc., etc. There is no end to the support I have in writing, and in my life. The only drawback is that you (collectively and individually) are not here. We don't meet once a week to discuss, in person, what we're working on. I miss that. I miss the back and forth that those writing groups allowed me. And I miss having people I can sit down with to talk about line breaks or narrative structure or. . .

I'm not sure how much longer either of us can read this post. I just wanted to let you all know how much I appreciate who you are and what you have been and are in my life--writing and otherwise.

P.S. Ginsberg: I'm giving myself five more years.

Friday, June 13, 2008

plural / validation

That night . . . I try again to work on the self-portrait. I position the easel in my symbolically-cluttered apartment just so, . . . , trying to get the angle of my head right. There's something in my eyes when I look at them in the mirror, what is that? Not doubt. More like insecurity. I want to convey an expression of what it's like to be twenty-eight, knowing you're a grown-up but wondering what you're supposed to be when you grow up. I want to capture what it looks like when you start to realize you have to let go of your dreams. I want the pain of my own artistic yearning to appear there, on the canvas.

As I paint, I lose myself in the joy of the work. Later, I'm overcome by an old familiar feeling of faint hope, that maybe I'm capturing something there on the canvas, some essence of what's in my mind's eye. Is this what Jeffrey meant, about meeting God? God, is that you?

In the cold light of morning, of course, there's another old familiar feeling. Dread. What I imagined as a kind of questioning look is more like a primitive muddle of ugly brown paint, in the vague shape of an eyeball.

from Lulu Meets God and Doubts Him


I am always reciting James Dewey's reading quote--something about how poets are failed musicians or failed painters. I would add failed dancer. There's something validating in that thought; then again, I somehow find validation in James Dewey, the way he carried himself, the way he presented his thoughts, the way he approached what he did, does. And of course, there's the fact that you can't separate one name from the other: James Dewey.

This is not a post about James Dewey.

I was considering the similarities between the art forms, between the frustrations the art forms present the artist. I was relating with this book which will end with Mia finding herself as an artist as well as falling in love, and I suddenly won't want to believe in a fictional contemporary painting titled Lulu Meets God and Doubts Him, although I writhe in envy over the title.


The poem I posted last night, and then pulled. . . I don't know what it is. I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore. I don't have the sounding boards in place anymore, not the immediacy of weekly validation and applause and critique. I guess I need to emerge from my new basement room and find a writing group. I just know how much I commit myself to those groups. We talked about how there could never be april again, and there can't. But there were Fob and Poetasters. As I write this, it's what I've been missing. I have no idea how to find one, or if there is such a thing in Bountiful.


I keep trying to explain what it is that happens for me in a writing group. I can't do it without a trip to Hallmark, so I'll leave it alone. But at least I know what I need.

Thursday, June 12, 2008


usually i love the days when nothing is really happening at work--just a few things to attend to here and there. today i'm going batty. batty and cranky. within the first twenty minutes here i had dropped my portable-phone-i-have-to-carry-whenever-i-leave-my-desk, not once or twice but three times, and never on carpet; ran into the recycling bin, almost tipping it and myself over; and dropped a tray of water bottles twice. Half an hour later, I had a bloody nose--a bloody nose that still isn't completely gone.

First half of the day down. I'm not sure I'll survive the rest.

And yes, I realize I went from no-caps to caps, but that's the kind of day it's been.


Wednesday, June 11, 2008


I know it's, as mlh put it, p*nk, but it was time for a change. And I just happened to find this template, complete with the Plath quote. Still not a huge fan of Plath, but I like the quote. I'll continue editing and adding back in links, etc., when I have time, and eventually I'll have the deskset of my dreams.

P.S. Did no one notice that the old deskset was also pink? I tried to find one in a different color, but no real luck. Maybe I'll keep looking. . . but this one is so pretty. . .

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

smart(e) cart(e)

So true to form, I am blogging the beginning and end of my vacation. This is the end.

1. In a fit of annoyance, I buy The Bell Jar, a book I have avoided up to this point in my life. Me reading a book about a depressed, suicidal writer (does not equal) anything good. I'm surprisingly taken with Plath's prose--mostly the way she doesn't signal "I'm about to enter a poetic turn of phrase to describe my madness." She just does it, moving back and forth with a straight-forwardness that defines her madness. I didn't finish it until we got home (on Saturday), but there are some interesting ideas there. That, and now I can say that I've read it.

2. My family has a thing for aquariums, and so, instead of visiting Disneyland or LegoLand, we went to the Aquarium of the Pacific, which isn't as big as it thinks it is, but is still very very cool. Seth and I both have a thing for otters; Lauren got to introduce Abby to all sorts of creepy looking creatures; and I got some cool shots of crystal jellyfish. . . there's something really bizarre and cool and terrifying about jellyfish.

3. In a moment of family bonding, I carted Seth from the parking lot of the airport to the curb where the rest of the family (and massive amounts of luggage) were being delivered. This involved crossing a few streets, as well as the rental car lot. Quite possibly the best moment of the vacation.

4. Returned to Utah, Bountiful, and waking up at 6:15 a.m. I hate 6:15 a.m. But I'm reading Lulu Meets God and Doubts Him (which is, unfortunately, not nearly as cool as the title suggests), and bracing myself for an onslaught of theorists as my favorite professor attempts once again to teach me theory.

Sunday, June 01, 2008

the more we get together

the crazier I'll be.

Jenkins Family Vacation 2008
Newport Beach, CA

We're here for the next week. Sea, sand, sky. Everything you need for a great week. (Well, sea, sand, sky, and H&M, which is close enough for at least one good shopping trip.) Here are a few pics of Day One. Please to note the cute bow on Abby's cute head, courtesy of my genius of a cousin Meghan and her new business. (What product placement?)


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