"perching above its shadow..."
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["...on the piling up darkened, broken old husks of itself." Subject line from Wendell Berry's "The Broken Ground," which was set to music a couple years ago by Malcolm Dalglish. It's one of the pieces I'm currently practicing for next Sunday.
Dalglish's website is intriguing - his bio includes the declaration "I like to bake pie," and the camp application includes this question:
I'd put out an APB for my mojo, but I'm reasonably sure it'll come fandango-ing back once I sleep another 48 hours, get my allergies back under control, and clear enough items off my to-do lists to reclaim some breathing room. Fortunately, many of them don't require style or finesse or speed on my part - just good old stubborn "this needs to be done, so I'll do it." I have plenty of stubborn on hand (and coffee, too).
One of the things I did finish up last week was sorting out my mother's sewing box one last time (an activity I adored as a small girl)...
...and boxing up it + fabrics + other craft supplies to send to Stitch for a Cause. I also boxed up old trophies (some stores are willing to rework them and then give them to nonprofits; the supplier in town isn't one of them, but I found a vendor in PA who does so); eight pairs of old eyeglasses to send to the Lions Club; assorted hygiene supplies to a Nashville group that aids the homeless; more books and keepsakes to various family members and friends...
This photo's of the stack in progress. I decided I needed a break when I managed to give myself strapping-tape burn. *sheepish*
Some recent pleasures in reading:
* Finding out that Ted Sorensen considers himself a Unitarian.
* Another interesting guy: Joe Clark, tech director at the Met (1980-2008), who's retiring to resume studying beer-brewing. According to Daniel J. Wakin, "he said brewing beer was 'remarkably like opera in many ways: art, science and technology put together in some kind of strange combination.'"
* Gorgeous Elaine Sexton poem at Poetry Daily.
* Debi Gliori's Deep Fear.
* Rachel Donadio's "You're An Author? Me Too!" in the NYT Book Review. (Granted, it's not really good news, and plays right into one of my deeper insecurities - who am I to add to the burgeoning tides of sound and fury, wouldn't I be just as well off devoting my days just to reading, etceteracakes? The ending of the essay will rub many the wrong way - hell, it goes against my general raison d'ecrire - but it clicked with me nonetheless.)
(Mind, I can't not write. I do like encouragement and sales - very much so - but there would be sonnets and stories regardless. But I will be glad when (unlike tonight) I'm back in my groove and matching the right words to the right cadences isn't so bloody dance-a-mazurka-on-fishhooks hard...)
Dalglish's website is intriguing - his bio includes the declaration "I like to bake pie," and the camp application includes this question:
b.) Is there anyone (Parent, teacher, or friend) who wants you to attend Ooolation! camp more than you want to attend Ooolation! camp? If the answer is yes, please talk about their influence and how it's likely to affect your attitude in the first days of camp.]
I'd put out an APB for my mojo, but I'm reasonably sure it'll come fandango-ing back once I sleep another 48 hours, get my allergies back under control, and clear enough items off my to-do lists to reclaim some breathing room. Fortunately, many of them don't require style or finesse or speed on my part - just good old stubborn "this needs to be done, so I'll do it." I have plenty of stubborn on hand (and coffee, too).
One of the things I did finish up last week was sorting out my mother's sewing box one last time (an activity I adored as a small girl)...
...and boxing up it + fabrics + other craft supplies to send to Stitch for a Cause. I also boxed up old trophies (some stores are willing to rework them and then give them to nonprofits; the supplier in town isn't one of them, but I found a vendor in PA who does so); eight pairs of old eyeglasses to send to the Lions Club; assorted hygiene supplies to a Nashville group that aids the homeless; more books and keepsakes to various family members and friends...
This photo's of the stack in progress. I decided I needed a break when I managed to give myself strapping-tape burn. *sheepish*
Some recent pleasures in reading:
* Finding out that Ted Sorensen considers himself a Unitarian.
* Another interesting guy: Joe Clark, tech director at the Met (1980-2008), who's retiring to resume studying beer-brewing. According to Daniel J. Wakin, "he said brewing beer was 'remarkably like opera in many ways: art, science and technology put together in some kind of strange combination.'"
* Gorgeous Elaine Sexton poem at Poetry Daily.
* Debi Gliori's Deep Fear.
* Rachel Donadio's "You're An Author? Me Too!" in the NYT Book Review. (Granted, it's not really good news, and plays right into one of my deeper insecurities - who am I to add to the burgeoning tides of sound and fury, wouldn't I be just as well off devoting my days just to reading, etceteracakes? The ending of the essay will rub many the wrong way - hell, it goes against my general raison d'ecrire - but it clicked with me nonetheless.)
(Mind, I can't not write. I do like encouragement and sales - very much so - but there would be sonnets and stories regardless. But I will be glad when (unlike tonight) I'm back in my groove and matching the right words to the right cadences isn't so bloody dance-a-mazurka-on-fishhooks hard...)
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