"Making poems -- or just say, Poetry -- has taught me something that no priest, no parent, no teacher, no friend, no counselor-in-any-guise has ever taught. How to meet disappointment head on, and not be brought to one's knees by it.
I don't quite know how this has come to be the effect. I want to say that it has something to do with how maintaining observance (what I've called practicing "lucidity poetics") paradoxically softens hard edges -- that you are able to see things in context in a way that makes the tough shit be not so shitty. Because you become ever-conscious that there is just so MUCH in the world and so any moment of pain is just one of so many things that you progress quickly to a state of thinking how silly it would be to be overcome by any one thing." - The Chatelaine
*...the lightbulb begins to glow above my head*
In other news, I got a lovely card and gifty from my writing buddy...complete with a nice big piece of bright green tape with bold black letters "CUSTOMS AND BORDER PATROL" holding it together and keeping the slice made to inspect the contents from spilling said gifty all over the place. *chagrin*
Which makes for all sorts of spinny thoughts like How did they know a couple of pinay writers were in contact with each other across an ocean? How many terrorists live in the Netherlands? What watch list am I on now (or have been on for a while)? Did the mail inspector think the gifty was sweet like I did? Did s/he like the card or think it too sentimental?
Oh come on...you can think of other questions...cause it's nearly too weird for words.