No Truer Words

I know God promises not to give me more than I can handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much.

--Mother Teresa



I'm surrounded by pengiuns... they keep creeping into my consciousness... ever since yesterday when I started looking for old Bloom County strips and where the most recent adventures of Opus could be found.

I have Happy Feet on the brain and the Penguin Lament in my inner ear. My co-worker is wearing socks with penguins on them. My husband has told fond stories of his long association with Opus-as-Personal-Mascot (both love the Tuba... both love Police... sing with me "every cake you bake..." ) to our daughters.

It shouldn't surprise me then that my friend/mentor Suzanne has had a personal essay published in the NYT which features her son's relationship with penguins. (thanks Kelli for the link!)

I love her words, always have. I learn so much from her writing and regret often that I didn't work with her while I was in graduate school. Our schedules never quite matched, and I believed at the time that I could not work with both fiction and poetry, even while I was sneaking in drinks of memoir in between.

Actually it doesn't surprise me that her work fits in with my current flightless fancy. I'm in one of those Search for Meaning phases, a time when I'm trying to organize all the disparate parts of myself into Something That Makes Sense.

Suzanne, though, points out that things don't always make sense to the outside world, not when the "I" firmly believes something special about the "I".

I admire Jin's courage to stand for himself and Suzanne's courage to love.

These are things a penguin's heart would know.


The Fountain

“When you read science fiction, after about 80 pages, the world comes into focus," said Darren Aronofsky about his film The Fountain.

And here I was all worried that people would get lost if I didn’t outline MC’s cosmology in the first chapter.

I hope I get a chance to see The Fountain while it's still in the theaters. I have a feeling that the DVD won't cut it when it comes to the panoramic shots.



The events may not have happened; still, the story is true. --R. Silvern

"I just get fascinated by people who assume that things that are imaginary have no relevance to their lives.” – Neil Gaiman



The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one. --Elbert Hubbard

Here's cheers to Sky who is attempting the neverbeforeblogged "My Make an Album Month," the musical variation on NaNoWriMo.

Here's to the craziness that only Chris Baty can create and to the loveliness of new sounds/experiences from one very original, very special guy.

Don't stop.

Remember: you can't stop the signal.


Mail Order Bride

Haruah: Breath of Heaven has published my poem Mail Order Bride.

My thanks to the wonderful folk at Haruah and to Meritage Press for featuring it in 2005.


Pause Mid-Flight

Two days late by one reckoning, nine days late by mine, but graciously accepted by the editor, I'm happy to say my review/response of the latest by (unnamed writer) is complete and submitted to (unnamed publisher).

(why the mystery? i haven't asked if it's okay to reveal details here *shrug*)

I wrote notes for myself during Christmas vacation and most of them made it into the review. The following, though, didn't fit into the max requested length, so I'm posting it here so's not to lose it in a pile of papers.


The beauty of the slinky as metaphor is simplicity.

Its circulinear shape lends itself to logical progression while illustrating the impulse to return, connect, come full circle, yet advance. At rest it is a humble circle, collapsed and dense. Each tangential concept touches directly or by association every other tangential concept along its edge.

Stretch the spiral, give it energy and it vibrates, oscillates, defines new spaces where none existed previously. To say the poetry series (unnamed) is a poetic slinky is reductive even as the two dimensional representation of the hypercube gives the view a false sense of understanding a universe with more than three dimensions, the illusion that time can be traced with a set of lines linked to a double parallelogram.

Yes, the images in this series build around a central narrative, yet also No because centrality is rendered irrelevant by the poems'recursive quality. There appear to be binaries present - the definition of one gender creating the role taken by the other. That is too easy, surface. Believing there is only one She and one He, like Adam and Eve, Land and Colonizer, Perpetrator and Victim. Power shifts with each turn confounding apparent meaning. The urge to create order and meaning strong, whereas relaxation and trust is called for to touch the coiled steel in motion. We look for the gravity, forgetting that it is always already, arbitrary but not meaningless.

But these are not questions. Wholeness, completeness begs the breaking open of questions.


The kite-eagle was really the wind
tired of moving between sky and sea.
Sie was the one who started the argument,
who made the sky hail stones upon the sea,
and the sea to throw forth mountains
toward the sky. Sie did not know jealousy
could be so strong even in those First Times.

But there was no going back
even after the islands were formed
and the sky withdrew, gathering up
the clouds like layers of crinoline
and the sea turned glassy and implacable.

The kite only meant to settle her talons
on something solid for once, instead
of sleeping unsteady dreams as the sun
chased the moon chased the sun through
day and star strewn night.

But even solid things change
and when sie heard the two banging
against the walls of their confinement
begging to be free, finally separate,
sie thought

Why not?

Sie questioned. Sie quested, no longer
sequestered. Strength and Beauty
emerged from that first breaking open
and with each query we do homage
to the wind for being impatient for change.


First Day

The first day of 2007 is nearly done...

2006 was a good year, big year of change, many more changes than I expected.

Events that float to the top:

1) Going to Victoria to receive Reiki training;
2) Getting on the local storytelling circuit, performing some, getting paid to perform, and training with EthNohTec and Gene Tagaban;
3) Writing the first start to finish draft of a novel;
4) Writing and publishing poetry online;
5) Lecturing at the CAPTIVATE conference at WSU;
6) Connecting with artist-geek-writers from around the world.

For 2007 I hope for more of the same, because it really was a good year, and all in all, despite my anxiety tonight, I'm feeling pretty happy.

I'll only add one more to the list - I'd like to get healthier this year, lose some weight, strengthen my body, and generally face the emotional issues that cause me to throw french fry-excessive chocolate-massive cookie binging-decafe grande extra hot mocha-tantrums in nearly regular intervals.

Currently I've got four writing projects in the works, two small, one medium, and one really gianormous (can you say second, third, and submission novel drafts?). I hanker for more, though, like the couple of children's books and the few poetry thingies.

But first things first - writing is a discipline. So is getting healthy.

Time to get conscious again.