Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. This morning I found myself behind the wheel of an old pickup truck, towing a vintage, broken-down Land Rover through town and up a VERY, VERY steep hill. It was absolutely crazy. But its done. And now my husband thinks that I am even cooler than he did before.
I am in the middle of a redesign for my WHOSIEPIE site. Its very exciting as I have been wanting to take care of this for ages...years...nearly a decade, actually. When you are a DO-IT-YOURSELFer this comes in a big package. SO, check it out so far. I will alert you when its really groovin' but for now you can see that it's just a little prettier than before and not so template-ish.
We just received your LOVELY gift on our SNOWY doorstep! Thank you so much. WE LOVE THEM and can't wait to try the LAVA CAKES. Can't think of a better time than now? Snowed in by the Xmas Tree...
We especially loved the cards from the kids! Thanks guys!! Merry Christmas to all of you and we love and miss you!
Yesterday, I heard Elizabeth Alexander on NPR. She is the Inaugural Poet and a Professor of African-American Studies at Yale.
I loved this poem of hers that she'd read aloud on air - especially the part about "what you find in the dirt in the corner, overhear on the bus, God in the details...".
So inspiring. My eyes are wide open for inspiration as I venture into my new studio in 2009.
Here's her poem:
Ars Poetica #100: I Believe
Poetry, I tell my students,
is idiosyncratic. Poetry
is where we are ourselves,
(though Sterling Brown said
“Every ‘I’ is a dramatic ‘I’”)
digging in the clam flats
for the shell that snaps,
emptying the proverbial pocketbook.
Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,
overhear on the bus, God
in the details, the only way
to get from here to there.
Poetry (and now my voice is rising)
is not all love, love, love,
and I’m sorry the dog died.
Poetry (here I hear myself loudest)
is the human voice,
and are we not of interest to each other?