Early November Update

The Petaluma Poetry walk in September was well worth attending.  I was only able to see a fraction of the line-up: Jackie Kudler's poetry about her late husband was especially evocative, and Donna Emerson's gravedigger poem brought tears to my eyes (a rarity). Ron Salisbury's work was unapologetic, raw and wryly funny. (I remember the earlier days of the Poetry Walk, which would start in Ron's Deaf Dog cafe. It feels like a lifetime ago.) I also caught Godelieve Uyttenhove, whom I remember from my days with the Marin County Library, eighteen plus years ago. And, having recently taken baby steps toward developing a sitting practice, I enjoyed hearing Susan Browne's humorous description of trying to meditate.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see the readers later in the day, but the event brought some significant synchronicity. First, I ended up running a photocopying errand for Martin Hickel to create notices about an upcoming reading for the Marin Poetry Festival, benefiting the extraordinary Poetry Flash. This in turn led me to attend the reading itself October 3rd at my alma mater, Dominican. The readers were Robert Hass, Gillian Conoley and giovanni singleton, and they were all wonderful. I must confess to sometimes having found the former US Poet Laureate's work to be too prosaic for my taste - I may even have considered it mundane. But hearing him read I realized how deceptively simple his work is, and how much deeper to goes than I ever gave it credit for. Maybe this is a reflection of my ability to be still and listen in a way I hadn't, but I think it has more to do with my age. I think he's a poet better appreciated the more years of life (and death) one has under one's belt.

The second significant synchronistic event was running into Terry Ehret, former Sonoma County Poet Laureate and co-founder of Sixteen Rivers Press. I'd met Terry very briefly a time or two in the past, and have long wanted to attend a workshop led by her, however, my schedule hadn't made it possible. In speaking with her about upcoming events, though, she mentioned that she would be taking a group to Wales. Wales! I was quick to ask whether I might join the group (I think I shouted, "I speak Welsh! Take me!" or words to that effect). And after a week or two of weighing out the expense and the selfish nature of such a trip (being gone during my daughter's birthday, and in the UK at that - when she is such a huge Doctor Who fan) against the incredible opportunity that it felt like the Universe had dropped in my lap, I committed to the trip.

Going to Wales will provide an opportunity to be away from all the usual demands of my life so I may write, write, write. It will also give me the chance to go to the visit sites related to two of my favorite poets: Dylan Thomas and Gerard Manly Hopkins - the masters of internal rhyme (what I call "sound-binding") and of sprung rhythm, respectively. 

And in the meantime, I have a couple of writing goals: to write 20,000 words this month (a mini-Nanowrimo) and finish the first draft - and maybe even the second draft - of my novel set in Wales.  And to work on my poetry daily to complete a book-length manuscript for submission. I feel the opportunities are there, but my craft demands my attention. Work, family, fitness (running another half marathon in February), home - all are important. But if writing isn't included in the mix, my life lacks a depth and richness that leaves me experiencing little mid-life angst and mini existential crises. Onward with the writing, then!