Sentences kick paragraphs' asses.
I remember reading Stein's How To Write--"a sentence is not emotional a paragraph is"--and disagreeing more than I usually do with her, not least because one of the most evocative sentences I've ever read was hers, when describing the interior of a house in "The Good Anna": And everywhere were little things that break.
Another favorite, from Vonnegut: Like so many Americans, she was trying to cobble together a life from things she had found in gift shops.
Yesterday, I stumbled on One Sentence, a blog that features "true stories, told in one sentence" (each from a different author). While some read like PostSecrets without the art ("He threw the condom out the car door when we were finished over a year ago, but I still feel guilty that I didn't stop him from littering"--can't you just see the postcard?), others are interesting as sentences-in-themselves:
The man's face was so badly decomposed that the cop asked me, "Well, does this look like something he would have done with his hair?"
I sat by a peat fire in Ireland and picked fat ticks off an orange cat with heated tweezers for three hours while reading Joyce. (ok, stopped believing at "Joyce"--but still fun)
It's the emptiest feeling in the world when you know your friends are out having fun, and you are at your dining room table, weeping and scrapbooking. (the "scrapbooking" seals it for me)
I was closing a cereal box one night when I became very aware of my height.
So I told her "When you go to college try to send me a letter."
I realized it was Sunday when I drove up to Chick-fil-a and it was closed.
Worth adding to your feeds, I think.
6.14.2007
6.13.2007
challenge
Nina Katchadourian exhibits a great way to stack your books. Given the time, it'd be fun to do this before having guests of the kind that go straight to your bookshelves over (I'm one such guest). Can't wait to get home and see what my shelves yield. And yours?
Best library outreach I've seen in a while: smack in the middle of the Midtown Farmer's Market last week in Minneapolis, East Lake Library (located about 10 blocks from the market--a Minneapolis, not Hennepin County, library) was holding a storytime and will weekly. Clearly posted was info about other storytimes and summer offerings available at the branch. Bravissimo!
6.07.2007
how would you kiss you?
Via Kottke, a Photoshopped series of people kissing themselves. What's fascinating are not the images so much as seeing how people chose to approach themselves: some erotically, some tenderly, some shyly, some matter-of-factly. There's a whiff of "consciousness raising exercise" here, and I think how much easier (and more natural-feeling) it would be to pose slapping myself or shaking myself by the shoulders. There are 27 photos in the series--take a look.
5.26.2007
5.08.2007
What a great coffee-table (and identity studies) book idea: Alter Ego: Avatars and Their Creators, by Robbie Cooper (via BoingBoing).
More images from the book:
Gallery One
Gallery Two
5.04.2007
Brilliant! A small grocery store in Emo, Ontario is beating the prices of a nearby Wal-Mart by buying bulk items at Sam's Club [owned by Wal-Mart, and on the US border, like Emo], then selling them for lower-than-Wal-Mart (but higher than Sam's Club) prices. Signs on their shelves advertise that their prices are lower than Wal-Mart's.
"It's been good business," says Cloverleaf Grocery co-owner Dan Loney, "Our sales are way up since Wal-Mart came."
"It's been good business," says Cloverleaf Grocery co-owner Dan Loney, "Our sales are way up since Wal-Mart came."
5.02.2007
"5 books of poetry that haven't really been hugely in the spotlight but that you highly recommend" cont.
4. Lara Glenum's The Hounds of No (Action Books, 2005)
The news that there's an excellent-looking new issue of ACTION YES out that includes Glenum's AWP panel paper "Notes on Women & the Grotesque" (haven't gotten to read it yet) reminded me that I wanted to add The Hounds of No to my list.
I first encountered Glenum's work in POM2 and I absolutely flipped for it. I ended up writing a poem for POM2 that incorporated phrases from her piece. Expressions like "one of our finest poets" or "among the best of her generation" make me puke, but...Hounds is an important book. And brilliant and meaty and bloody and only ten dollars--!
Here's a poem from the book, previously published in DIAGRAM:
"Medea and the Snow-Angels"
4. Lara Glenum's The Hounds of No (Action Books, 2005)
The news that there's an excellent-looking new issue of ACTION YES out that includes Glenum's AWP panel paper "Notes on Women & the Grotesque" (haven't gotten to read it yet) reminded me that I wanted to add The Hounds of No to my list.
I first encountered Glenum's work in POM2 and I absolutely flipped for it. I ended up writing a poem for POM2 that incorporated phrases from her piece. Expressions like "one of our finest poets" or "among the best of her generation" make me puke, but...Hounds is an important book. And brilliant and meaty and bloody and only ten dollars--!
Here's a poem from the book, previously published in DIAGRAM:
"Medea and the Snow-Angels"
4.27.2007
epigraphs
I opened up Gail Godwin's 2006 novel Queen of the Underworld--a "scantily-clad autobiographical novel set in 1950s Miami," according to Publisher's Weekly--to find this epigraph:
Caminante, no hay camino.
Se hace camino al andar.
--Antonio Machado
which I recognized as the epigraph to another book, Carolyn Forche's 1976 Gathering the Tribes. A list of books or poems that share the same epigraph might be fascinating. Anyone know off-hand of any others?
Caminante, no hay camino.
Se hace camino al andar.
--Antonio Machado
which I recognized as the epigraph to another book, Carolyn Forche's 1976 Gathering the Tribes. A list of books or poems that share the same epigraph might be fascinating. Anyone know off-hand of any others?
4.21.2007
"5 books of poetry"--#3
Catherine Wagner's Macular Hole (Fence Books, 2004). Here are one and a half poems for a sample--first, the half (the second half of the poem's formatting is beyond my capabilities):
I walked in the house
--Catherine Wagner
I walked in the house
on the flat aspect of the wood
I took rectangular instruction of the wood
when I walked I turned at the wall
and on the flat I moved steadily
unimpeded, not tumbling, climbing, or short of breath.
I walked in ease on the flat.
Something electric charged into our account
and zinged out of it, pre-instructed
and paid for the house. I felt
house on my heel then instep and toe.
I had a bad foot and I paid
to get it fixed so I could walk here.
I paid for the house and I paid for the
foot that touches it. I paid to be
directed rectangularly and down a hall.
I curved my body to direct
my waste through a hole. I am helped
and paying for it.
[next poem]
Kill so we feel safe and comfortable
--Catherine Wagner
This is called Mississippi mash, this kind of kick--leg up,
foot smashed against both sides opponent's head,
or spinneret, foot comes round your body
turning backward fast, and hooks 'em.
Squeezed tight between my legs
so we feel safe and comfortable.
Who's my fucker? Who will be my special fucker?
Catherine Wagner's Macular Hole (Fence Books, 2004). Here are one and a half poems for a sample--first, the half (the second half of the poem's formatting is beyond my capabilities):
I walked in the house
--Catherine Wagner
I walked in the house
on the flat aspect of the wood
I took rectangular instruction of the wood
when I walked I turned at the wall
and on the flat I moved steadily
unimpeded, not tumbling, climbing, or short of breath.
I walked in ease on the flat.
Something electric charged into our account
and zinged out of it, pre-instructed
and paid for the house. I felt
house on my heel then instep and toe.
I had a bad foot and I paid
to get it fixed so I could walk here.
I paid for the house and I paid for the
foot that touches it. I paid to be
directed rectangularly and down a hall.
I curved my body to direct
my waste through a hole. I am helped
and paying for it.
[next poem]
Kill so we feel safe and comfortable
--Catherine Wagner
This is called Mississippi mash, this kind of kick--leg up,
foot smashed against both sides opponent's head,
or spinneret, foot comes round your body
turning backward fast, and hooks 'em.
Squeezed tight between my legs
so we feel safe and comfortable.
Who's my fucker? Who will be my special fucker?
"5 books of poetry" cont.--
2. Kaia Sand's Interval (Edge, 2004). Edge is Rod Smith's press, and I like it. They also published Heather Fuller's perhaps this is a rescue fantasy (if I had it, I'd probably put it on this list, too--"Sudden Clutter" from that book is one of my favorite poems)
Madrigal for Jules
--Kaia Sand
Who are the egrets we eyed
as we feel searchingly
as we reveal
or who is the egret we mark
as we overturn pages
as we learn
how bookcliff's wonder to be fierce
now we lip salute without loss
gesture struck as we are
as red bougainvillea is kisses
of you [operatic bellows]
and redwood stout redwood sorrow
---
What is the bookcliff you climbed
as you forage for food
as you store
or what is the bookcliff you left
as you corral the simple
as you touch
how anthelion's seabright to be heard
now you pledge without restraint
aromatic lovely as you are
as a hand becomes a pocket
of you [harvest touch]
and sunflower strong sunflower equinox
--
When is the seabright we grace
as we daylight briskly
as we tithe
or when is the seabright we bash
as we river our worries
as we eclipse
how Utah's three gossips to be seen
now we candle without petals
barren stunned as we are
as the palimpsest is constructed
of you [farpost caress]
and ashen glovebox ashen beaches
--
Where are the three gossips they became
as they sigh for you
as they sacrifice
or where are the three gossips they burn
as they shed dominion
as they erode
how cave's mountain to be found
now it's luminous without sunlight
hidden faces as they are
as a candle wills a match
of you [voice of sun]
and trillium tongue trillium open
--
Why is the mountain we see
as we abacus click
as we arrive
or why is the mountain beyond
as we believe each other
as we disbelieve
how marsh's egrets depart
now we promenade without a stumble
certain as we are
as mesas are an arm's length
of you [aspen quivering]
and sidereal year sidereal awe
2. Kaia Sand's Interval (Edge, 2004). Edge is Rod Smith's press, and I like it. They also published Heather Fuller's perhaps this is a rescue fantasy (if I had it, I'd probably put it on this list, too--"Sudden Clutter" from that book is one of my favorite poems)
Madrigal for Jules
--Kaia Sand
Who are the egrets we eyed
as we feel searchingly
as we reveal
or who is the egret we mark
as we overturn pages
as we learn
how bookcliff's wonder to be fierce
now we lip salute without loss
gesture struck as we are
as red bougainvillea is kisses
of you [operatic bellows]
and redwood stout redwood sorrow
---
What is the bookcliff you climbed
as you forage for food
as you store
or what is the bookcliff you left
as you corral the simple
as you touch
how anthelion's seabright to be heard
now you pledge without restraint
aromatic lovely as you are
as a hand becomes a pocket
of you [harvest touch]
and sunflower strong sunflower equinox
--
When is the seabright we grace
as we daylight briskly
as we tithe
or when is the seabright we bash
as we river our worries
as we eclipse
how Utah's three gossips to be seen
now we candle without petals
barren stunned as we are
as the palimpsest is constructed
of you [farpost caress]
and ashen glovebox ashen beaches
--
Where are the three gossips they became
as they sigh for you
as they sacrifice
or where are the three gossips they burn
as they shed dominion
as they erode
how cave's mountain to be found
now it's luminous without sunlight
hidden faces as they are
as a candle wills a match
of you [voice of sun]
and trillium tongue trillium open
--
Why is the mountain we see
as we abacus click
as we arrive
or why is the mountain beyond
as we believe each other
as we disbelieve
how marsh's egrets depart
now we promenade without a stumble
certain as we are
as mesas are an arm's length
of you [aspen quivering]
and sidereal year sidereal awe
There's a "5 books of poetry that haven't really been hugely in the spotlight but that you highly recommend" thing going around. I'll post my 5 over the next day or so, with a representative poem from each. Here's one for tonight:
1. Kathleen Ossip's The Search Engine (APR, 2002)
Here's one asskicking poem--go on, send it to Ma on Mother's Day:
My 20th Century
--Kathleen Ossip
We are having tea and
dobosh torte, my mother
and I, dressed in hobble
skirts and buttoned boots,
in Peacock Alley of the
old Waldorf (She thrives on
luxury.) Hey, Ma, I say,
this Sigmund Freud says neuroses
arise from repressed sexual
fantasies! She clatters her cup
in a kind of trance.
We're having tea and Ritz
crackers, my mother and I,
dressed in chemises, shingled and
bobbed, in the sitting room
of my first apartment. (She's
a little jealous.) Hey,
Ma, I say, Susan Anthony
won! We're getting the vote!
She moves like a brown
bird on a brown branch.
We're having tea--the sugar
is rationed--my mother and
I, wearing trousers and snoods,
in a soldier's canteen. (I'm
her supervisor.) Hey, Ma, I
say, have you seen that
movie about Scarlett O'Hara, the
heroine who proves, once and
for all, that a woman
can be hard as nails
yet loved by millions? She
hefts a widget, not too friendly.
We're having drinks in the
Sputnik Lounge, in daydresses and
ballerina slippers. (She's dating a
pilot.) Hey, Ma, I say,
y'know Rock Hudson, that
actor you like? Well, I just
read in Tittle-Tattle... She
hits a high note like
a wigged castrato.
We're taking spoonfuls of blue-
green algae in the solarium
of the nursing home (I'm
getting tired; her joints are
sprightly.) We're dressed in
leopardskin aerobicwear. Hey,
Ma, I say, there's this
guy who says all religions
derive from a shared mythology.
What do you think? She
swivels and rides
away on her trike.
I'm eating bread and water
alone, naked as the day
I was born. Hey, Ma,
I say, though she's not
around, you won't believe this.
Physicists say that in
addition to a yes and a
no, the universe contains a maybe.
Off in the distance, under the stars,
she moves like a platypus,
neither here nor there.
1. Kathleen Ossip's The Search Engine (APR, 2002)
Here's one asskicking poem--go on, send it to Ma on Mother's Day:
My 20th Century
--Kathleen Ossip
We are having tea and
dobosh torte, my mother
and I, dressed in hobble
skirts and buttoned boots,
in Peacock Alley of the
old Waldorf (She thrives on
luxury.) Hey, Ma, I say,
this Sigmund Freud says neuroses
arise from repressed sexual
fantasies! She clatters her cup
in a kind of trance.
We're having tea and Ritz
crackers, my mother and I,
dressed in chemises, shingled and
bobbed, in the sitting room
of my first apartment. (She's
a little jealous.) Hey,
Ma, I say, Susan Anthony
won! We're getting the vote!
She moves like a brown
bird on a brown branch.
We're having tea--the sugar
is rationed--my mother and
I, wearing trousers and snoods,
in a soldier's canteen. (I'm
her supervisor.) Hey, Ma, I
say, have you seen that
movie about Scarlett O'Hara, the
heroine who proves, once and
for all, that a woman
can be hard as nails
yet loved by millions? She
hefts a widget, not too friendly.
We're having drinks in the
Sputnik Lounge, in daydresses and
ballerina slippers. (She's dating a
pilot.) Hey, Ma, I say,
y'know Rock Hudson, that
actor you like? Well, I just
read in Tittle-Tattle... She
hits a high note like
a wigged castrato.
We're taking spoonfuls of blue-
green algae in the solarium
of the nursing home (I'm
getting tired; her joints are
sprightly.) We're dressed in
leopardskin aerobicwear. Hey,
Ma, I say, there's this
guy who says all religions
derive from a shared mythology.
What do you think? She
swivels and rides
away on her trike.
I'm eating bread and water
alone, naked as the day
I was born. Hey, Ma,
I say, though she's not
around, you won't believe this.
Physicists say that in
addition to a yes and a
no, the universe contains a maybe.
Off in the distance, under the stars,
she moves like a platypus,
neither here nor there.
4.12.2007
4.11.2007
Reference Question of the Week (to date)
Man: I've been doing some genealogical research, and I found out there was a DIVORCE [shudders] in my family! It was the husband who registered the complaint, but I can't tell what it was for...can you find me a list of the grounds for divorce in 1810 in [state name]?
Me: [looking them up] Uh, adultery...
Man: Oh [looking worried]...I can't imagine she would have done that. No, I don't think so. [Remember, this is not someone he's ever met]
Me: Drunkenness for a period of one year...
Man: No. No, I can't imagine.
Me: Impotence...
Man: But we're talking about a woman.
Me: Says here that, in legal terms, "impotence" can apply to a man or a woman.
Man: Huh.
Me: ...and "felony cruelty."
Man: [looking relieved] I bet that's it! She was CRUEL! [leaves happy]
Me: [looking them up] Uh, adultery...
Man: Oh [looking worried]...I can't imagine she would have done that. No, I don't think so. [Remember, this is not someone he's ever met]
Me: Drunkenness for a period of one year...
Man: No. No, I can't imagine.
Me: Impotence...
Man: But we're talking about a woman.
Me: Says here that, in legal terms, "impotence" can apply to a man or a woman.
Man: Huh.
Me: ...and "felony cruelty."
Man: [looking relieved] I bet that's it! She was CRUEL! [leaves happy]
4.08.2007
3.16.2007
Good lord, 
someone censored the entire Vigeland Sculpture Park (one of the places I most want to visit someday) overnight--children's nipples included (more coverage here).
someone censored the entire Vigeland Sculpture Park (one of the places I most want to visit someday) overnight--children's nipples included (more coverage here).
3.03.2007
2.20.2007
Textorizer
Well, this is effing cool: upload a pic into Textorizer, and it replaces the strongest lines with lines of text you provide. To try it out, I fed it this picture, from when I was maid of honor in my sister's wedding:
and entered "maid of honor" as the text to repeat.
Result? This.
What fun: turn that snapshot of the relatives at Thanksgiving into the lyrics of "Head Like a Hole"--or graphics of different types of cells into poems/entries from Hejinian's The Cell--or--or--
(one problem: I can't figure out how to save the image, so I could post it here rather than linking--anyone?)
and entered "maid of honor" as the text to repeat.
Result? This.
What fun: turn that snapshot of the relatives at Thanksgiving into the lyrics of "Head Like a Hole"--or graphics of different types of cells into poems/entries from Hejinian's The Cell--or--or--
(one problem: I can't figure out how to save the image, so I could post it here rather than linking--anyone?)
2.16.2007
*cool idea: Tokyo's Eldercondos--keep mentally fit while aging by living in a kind of plastic hell. (I'd probably actually love living in one of these.)
*favorite recent Onion stories: "Touring Raffi Refuses To Play 'Shake My Sillies Out'," "Nation's Gays Demand Right To Library Cards"
*excitedly reading: The Long Tail by Chris Anderson and Smokes by Susan Wheeler
*and listening: Arctic Monkeys
*and can't wait to read: China Mieville's new novel--his first written for YAs!
*What's the most extreme sacrifice you made for love this Valentine's Day? I watched The Lake House.
*favorite recent Onion stories: "Touring Raffi Refuses To Play 'Shake My Sillies Out'," "Nation's Gays Demand Right To Library Cards"
*excitedly reading: The Long Tail by Chris Anderson and Smokes by Susan Wheeler
*and listening: Arctic Monkeys
*and can't wait to read: China Mieville's new novel--his first written for YAs!
*What's the most extreme sacrifice you made for love this Valentine's Day? I watched The Lake House.
2.06.2007
The Secondary Sins, from Jessica Hagy, via BoingBoing(I'm especially fond of the insight that quickies are sloth-based)
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