Today I was going to go to an open studio event (local artists opening up their studios to the public), but I feel a sickness coming on. It’s that scratchy nasal feeling. I feel like I’ve gotten sick more often in my year-and-a-half out here in San Francisco than I have in other places and…
Category: Writing
A Grateful Pause to Start the Day
From the corner of my charcoal gray sofa in the not yet nine am sunlight, I pause my reading and writing to answer a text. We’ll meet at the Polk thing at 1. The we being one of my friends and I and the Polk thing being a street fair with music and beer and…
Mornings Like This
This morning, Saturday morning, sunlight filters through the leaves of the magnolia tree outside of my living room window. Sitting on my sofa with my legs propped up on a makeshift ottoman (a throw pillow on top of a hard, square storage cabinet), I’m awash in a mix of feelings: guilt for not dedicating myself…
Reason Number 27 on Why I’m Not a Better Writer
Among the things that hold me back as a writer/poet (besides talent, practice, and perseverance) is this pesky adherence to or proximity to the truth. I suppose it’s a little more complicated than that… but in a nutshell, when I write a poem, the you or the he or the she tends to be based…
Why Bother…?
The small, oscillating space heater makes a grinding sound when it changes direction. It’s chilly and dark. 6am and I’m bogged down with a case of the “why bothers?” The why bothers make it difficult to write. Daily practice, which I have forsaken, tends to keep the why bothers at bay. Heavily afflicted, as I…
Writing Struggles No. 48
I feel years, if not decades, behind where I could have been as a writer had I only been paying attention. I feel as though thirty or forty years have gone by and, somehow, I missed them. For most of us, creating any type of art (writing, painting, music) requires being present in the world….
Lacks Inner Resources
In the middle of reading some poems by one of my favorite poets, Stephen Dunn, I pause to think about the book as though I might have the skill or ambition to comment on it. I possess neither. I bought the book a few weeks ago when my father and I visited City Lights on…
Frivolous Pursuits?
It’s 8am. I woke up early. I’ve already finished reading a chapbook of poetry. I’ve already written three or four poems. This is a nice change of pace. Mentally, my wheels are spinning as I’m contemplating my tastes in and talent for poetry. What makes a poem good, or at least good to me? The…
Stop Following Me
Not long ago, I logged into my healthcare account to see what I needed to do to get a routine check up, an eye exam, and maybe start the process of getting my shoulder looked at. I’ve been putting these things off. Being the optimist that I am, I had expected to be employed by…
Making It Up As I Go
In my more writerly or creative moods, lots of different things serve as jumping off points for mental exploration. Among the things I’d like to get better at are: turning narrative into poetry, and allowing myself the freedom to play more frequently with words, stories, fact, and fiction. This morning I read the poem “At…
Sluggish Hearts and Swagger: A Breaking Through?
Sunday I wrote. Yesterday I wrote. I wrote a lot. The blog post about the sluggishness of the heart was one of the many attempts I’ve made to stare down the multi-headed and complicated beast of unrequited love, generosity, poetry, waiting, and urgency. It was an admission and a surrender; a breaking down and a…
Writing This Is Boring
This morning I woke up early-ish. Not when my alarm went off, but shortly after. Honestly, I’m not sure I set my alarm. I’m trying to re-establish routines and habits that will facilitate writing or reading or whatever. This is me trying to be a bit more serious about my “craft” and also trying not…