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Weekend Warrior [Jul. 11th, 2009|11:49 pm] It’s another slam-dunk weekend at Pizzart and we’re having a blast. Yes, there are anxious moments. Yes, we are understaffed. But yes, the community is supporting us and yes, the owner is incredibly low-key about everything, and yes, I seem to be getting my rhythm back as a waitress. In the meantime, what has been disrupted is my writing rhythm. I’m still plugging away at the fiction, but only in short bursts rather than long love affairs. My freelance work is piling up, with a slough if things I must complete before heading to Alaska. My commitment to current events has waned and my reading pace has been cut by about 75%. All of this, I suppose, is the reality of making ends meet. When work comes your way that’s a worthwhile fit for your skills and time, you take it. The rest of your life gets figured out later. I know that if I want to be a full-time self-employed writer that it will take a number of years of this back and forth. Or at least enough side gigs to help me build up a savings again. __ Birding: The tickets have been successfully purchased. Counting down 90 days until October 9th. Writing news flash: No from Penn State Altoona (1 semester nonfiction emerging writer residency) but a little bite of interest from UCLA, who says they find my qualifications compelling and will keep me on file for consideration in the summer 2010 teaching pool (this is for online courses). They said to nag them again in November, when they’ll be hiring for that time of year. Stats: 3 miles = 29 min 25 sec link post comment

(no subject) [Jul. 9th, 2009|07:06 pm] S-I-C-K and still working... link post comment

Countdown [Jul. 7th, 2009|05:47 pm] Orders of business: 1. I have found a local friend with high speed Internet to purchase the Andrew Bird tickets for me. 2. At the urging of half a dozen blog readers, I have in fact sent my “open letter” to Andrew Bird to…Andrew Bird. Well, I actually sent it to his manager who answered the phone when I called to inquire about an address. Don’t worry, I included a disclaimer that offered context for the letter. Jeez, I don’t think I’ve written fan mail since NKOTB. 3. I am happy to say that 110 copies of Lost Crossings have safely arrived on Fork Mountain, 22 of which will be immediately mailed to donors. Meanwhile, Shane is riding his bike from San Fransisco to Charleston (last time we talked he’d made it to Wichita, KS), then hitching to the mountains to print and frame the photos just in time for our exhibit. Mark your calendars for 9/5 ladies and gents, it’s going to be a big one! Confessions: 1. Some days, I dream of a bus. On this bus are my favorite books, a Mac Airbook with uninterrupted Internet access, and a handful of my best writing buddies. We also have Encyclopedias, an array of field guides, and fantastic cameras. The bus is equipped with go-go-Gadget inflatable tires (for crossing large bodies of water) and has a biodiesel jetpack for whizzing past traffic jams. It also has multiple built-in espresso machines and French presses, with a lifelong supply of Coffee People Coffee’s Huehuetenago Guatemalan medium roast beans. On this bus there are occasional visits from Bob Dylan, Andrew Bird, Eddie Vedder, Sonic Youth, Stephen Malkmus, and Josh Ritter. Scratch that—Josh Ritter often spends the night on the bus. 2. Other days, I dream of the city. It’s a big city but I live high, high up. I have a quiet place to write even though the world below is very loud and busy all of the time. I am not quite as tormented as Joan Didion and certainly not as unfortunate, but I am almost as respected. I am no longer hypersensitive to sound. I have a husband who comes home and everything is very domestic but it doesn’t smell like plastic and it doesn’t make me feel numb. We laugh about the fact that I used to pee in a bucket and live on a mountain by myself, half a mile from my nearest neighbor (a hound dog named Little Sam, no less). A few books I would grab from my shelf if my house was burning and my copies were the only ones left on the planet (Joy, this is for you, and yes you can borrow): 1. William Kittredge, Owning it All 2. Steve Almond, My Life in Heavy Metal 3. Aimee Bender, Willful Creatures 4. Ursula Hegi, Hotel of Saints 5. Claire Davis, Labors of the Heart 6. Jack Driscoll, Wanting Only to Be Heard 7. Rick Bass, The Hermit’s Story 8. Judy Blunt, Breaking Clean 9. Pete Fromm, As Cool As I Am 10. Philip Lopate, ed, The Art of the Personal Essay 11. Molly Gloss, The Hearts of Horses 12. Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem and The White Album 13. Henry David Thoreau, The Complete Works 14. Martin Heidegger, Poetry, Language, Thought 15. Raymond Carver, Will You Please Be Quiet Please? 16. Judith Kitchen, ed., anthologies - In Short, In Brief, and Short Takes 17. Stanley Kunitz, The Collected Poems 18. Joseph Millar, Overtime 19. Dorianne Laux, Awake 20. Ron Carlson, The Speed of Light 21. Tobias Wolff, Our Story Begins 22. Stuart Dybek, I Sailed With Magellan 23. Wendell Berry, Home Economics 24. Marylinn Robinson, Housekeeping 25. Alexandra Fuller, Don’t Let’s Go…, Scribbling…, and The Legend… link post comment

...Check [Jul. 6th, 2009|06:49 pm] Writing Check: No from Flash Fiction again. No from Thieves’ Jargon. No from Brick about my lyric essays from the MFA thesis, but Brick is no small potatoes, folks, and I got the most encouraging personal rejection yet: “…Although your work is quite engaging, we decided that it isn’t quite right for Brick. That being said, your piece was really intriguing and I'm sure you'll find a good home for it. (One of our editors specifically loved it, but we found it just a bit too personal for our magazine)…” Yes from Verve for an arts essay. Yes from The Flood Gallery to teach a nonfiction course this fall. Yes from Perigee for my fiction submission, “On the Up and Up.” (I’ll post the link 7/15.) Two major grants/fellowships are pending (NC Arts and Andy Warhol). Two major writer-in-residency teaching positions are pending. A few contests still await judging. A stack of residency applications sit on my desk, to be completed depending on the above. Dare I say I am feeling victorious! __ Stats: 3 miles = 29 min 36 sec link post comment

Check, Check [Jul. 5th, 2009|05:47 pm] Body Check: Two months after having a 1/4” thick piece of class stabbed into my foot, the scab finally fell off and a glossy scar remains. I can do all the things I could do before, I just can’t feel part of my toe if I touch it. That may change…or it may not. Either way, it could have been a lot worse. I completed a pre-test of the Shuri Pine Tree Test last week and came in at 54:30, that’s 5 minutes and 30 seconds to spare, which is good because the real chin ups at the dojo are going to take longer than the ones I’ve been training with at home. I got a cold this weekend on top of last-minute waitressing, so I took the training down a knotch. Expect stats for another pre-test to be posted sometime this week. Knee problems? What knee problems? It’s hard to believe I could barely hike up the Roan last spring without pain and now I hardly feel a thing. Many thousands of thanks-you’s to my uber-wise physical therapist in Asheville who helped me with a home program that has allowed me to continue training. Heart Check: I’m over the friend who was “emotionally unavailable.” Better off as friends, anyway. The only hard part about all of that, upon reflection, was accepting the fact that I am ready to date someone again. It’s hard to admit that when there isn’t anyone in your immediate life that you’re actually dating. But I’m over that difficulty, too. Yeah, sure—I’d date someone. Hello world, I’ll date someone again. Here I am. It’s summer – what better time could there be? (Ok, winters are nice too, for cuddling, winter sports, and in general having more leisure time.) I took myself out to a nice dinner at The Vault in Asheville last week—a solo date at bar on a weeknight, no less. That’s a rare thing for me. But I had three hours to kill before picking my parents up at the airport and wouldn’t you know…I met the most fantastic guy. I don’t know if he’ll call, but I hope he does. If he doesn’t, it was at least reassuring to remember that lovely coincidences like that do happen. Especially, I suppose, if you live in the city and see more people than I do on a daily basis. link post comment

Out of the Blue [Jul. 4th, 2009|11:07 pm] It goes like this: 9:30pm Thursday night you get a call from the baker you used to work with at the craft school. She’s a craft-school ex-patriot like you are now, too, and she’s also a damn good businesswoman. With the recent legislation in downtown Spruce Pine, NC to allow beer, wine, and liquor within town limits, your friend has it in mind to start her own restaurant. She’s done this before. She’s got the place set up. And now she needs a waitress. 4pm on Friday and you are tying on your apron for the first time since November. Beer pours differently from the taps than espresso from the machine, but you’ll get the hang of it. You haven’t waitressed in a real restaurant since you were 18 years old. It doesn’t matter. You have about 20 minutes to look at the menu, figure out the register, and orient yourself to the bar before the doors are open and the first customer walks in. Hi. How are you? Welcome to Pizzart. I’ll be your server this evening. [Of course, like 80% of the customer base that evening, you know all of them by name. For instance, the first customers brought their daughter, whom I sing with at Montessori. The father is a writer and applied for the same big-time NC Arts Council grant that I did…in the same category.] By Saturday night you’ve worked 14 hours and earned $270 in tips—more money than you’ve seen in god-knows-how-long. You think: Kenia Fjords, Alaska, yeah, that’s it—a day ferry out into the North Pacific to see marine life you’ve never seen in your life and may never get to see again. You think: Or, teeth cleaning and haircut before officiating your friend’s wedding? Keep this up and you can do both. It’s a temporary gig. Just Fridays and Saturdays for the month of July. Going to Alaska kills the chance of keeping this as a job but you don’t care. You don’t want it to last that long anyway. For now, it’s like some golden nugget someone has handed you after who-knows-how-long of biting your nails and counting your pennies. July will be earn money month. August will be Alaska month. September will be regional rockstar month (2 book signings, 2 presentations, an exhibition, and a residency). October is, obviously, Andrew Bird month. Is it me or is time flying by? link post comment

An Open Letter [Jul. 2nd, 2009|10:04 pm] Dear Andrew Bird, In anticipation of your October 9th, 2009 performance in Asheville, North Carolina; and given that I have been following your music since I heard its first note; and also forgiving the fact that I have burned some of your albums rather than purchasing them outright; and elating in the fact that I used to have dreams with characters who spoke your song lyrics verbatim; and especially in light of the fact that I will be driving 90 minutes one-way to see you and spending money I have not yet earned on the ticket; and knowing that you broke up with your girlfriend in 2008 during the recording of “Noble Beast” but that I have no expectations for you to like me, as they say, I was wondering if you might consider training for the Shuri Pine Tree Test so that we could run it together when you visit? I thought it might be a nice way for you to get to know my world a little, you know, since I know so much of yours by now. We could listen to whatever music you want as we run, and if after the three miles you want to abandon the rest of the Shuri Pine Tree Test and just keeping running with me, off into the deep purple horizon, well—I think I might be ok with that, too. With utmost sincerity and respect, Katey Schultz link post comment

Better Than Christmas, Better Than Kissing, Better Than Wine [Jul. 1st, 2009|01:12 pm] Oh my god there is a god and he is friends with Andrew Bird and the good city of Asheville, North Carolina! On July 10th at exactly 12noon tickets will go on sale – online only – for Mr. Bird’s one and only Asheville performance of the year, to take place at The Orange Peel on October 9th, 2009. Praise be to birds and Andrews and gods and cities like Asheville. Amen. [Now I just have to find someone with a high speed internet connection who is not working at 12noon on said day to purchase a ticket on my behalf.] link 2 comments|post comment

Operation Asperatus [Jun. 29th, 2009|06:28 pm] Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a new cloud. Call it the Jacques Cousteau. Call it the roiling ocean. Call it the Armageddon. Members of the Cloud Appreciation Society are calling it asperatus and have lobbied for its official induction as the 81st official variety of cloud. Latin for “roughened up,” you can read more and view the latest images of this cloud here. For my part, a new cloud means a new word, and a new word means new possibilities. Here we go! __ Stats: Pine Tree pre-test 30min 30sec = 3 miles 6/10 mile walk back to car, then drive 10 mins home, then immediately do 24 mins = 500 front kicks, 200 jumping jacks, 50 thai style kicks, 2 mins freestyle, 25 knuckle push ups, 100 crunches, 15 "training" pull ups, 75 punches w/ 10 lbs., 75 blocks w/ 10 lbs. - yeehaw! link 3 comments|post comment

Small Town Math [Jun. 28th, 2009|10:46 pm] It’s insane but I must drive 17 miles one way to the grocery store for three items: wine, chocolate, and tampons. I am grumpy about this fact and grumpy about the cute couple ahead of me in line, and grumpy for no good goddamned reason. If you can’t tell why I was grumpy based on the three-item list, well, then—duh. I am inside the grocery store for all of four minutes because I know exactly what I want, where it is, and who the fastest checkers are. During the course of these four minutes I see six people that I know. I skirt the first one (mother of a kid I used to teach) by fishing through my purse as though I’m looking for my grocery list. Turning down Aisle 4, I catch the profile of a glass blower I know, pivot on my heels, and head for the wine section instead. On my way to the wine, I see a fellow writer and her husband. Her nose is in Good Housekeeping and he’s trying to get her attention, “Honey! Honey? Do you have the Ingles advantage card with you?” I see the last two staring into the Breyer’s case in the frozen section and scoot by, looking up at the FROZEN PIZZAS sign opposite where they stand. Six people! That’s 1 1/2 as many people as minutes that I spend in the store. That’s twice as many minutes as items on my list. That’s equal to the number of minutes it takes me to run one leg of the Bakersville Creek Walk. That’s one more minute than there are squares of chocolate in the teensy Dove dark bar that I buy, guiltily, thinking all the while of the Pine Tree test. link 2 comments|post comment

Tabata Tabooty [Jun. 27th, 2009|09:05 pm] Thanks to tips from a friend back in Oregon, I think I may forgo interval training for Tabata training. The results sound convincing in a short amount of time…and I’ve only got about four weeks before the Pine Tree test. Curious? Check out this informative article on Tabata Protocol. Wowzers! --- Stats: 3 miles = 31 min 40 sec link post comment

NC calling OR [Jun. 25th, 2009|05:29 pm] I would like to say that right now, today, I’ve never wanted to be in Oregon more. My parents are there on a visit and all my graduate school friends are convening at Pacific University for one of the residency readings on campus tonight. I just got off the phone with my buddy KL, who at one point handed the phone to the director of the program. “We love you!” she shouted into the phone. “We miss you! We wish you were here!” When she said that I tried not to cry; I really, really did. She continued, “Dinty Moore is reading at the residency this afternoon. You should be here! You should have been the one to pick him up at the airport! You’re the one who did that interview with him!” What am I doing? I’m not nannying because the baby’s parents are on vacation until 7/3. I’m not working a jobby-job since, as we all know, I work for myself now. I am, however, working on material for four arts essays. I’m taking a weekly fiction workshop. I’m writing my friend’s wedding ceremony. I’m critiquing people’s artist’s statements. Yes, I’m doing all of these things. The daily work of a writer. But oh, if I could just be there for a few days…[Sigh.] link post comment

Must Sleep [Jun. 24th, 2009|05:51 pm] [Clarification: Sorry. I’ve been sleeping 4-5 hours per night for about two weeks straight. It leads to…incomplete…thoughts. The point of mentioning aunts and uncles in yesterday’s post is that without siblings, unless I marry someone who has them, I won’t get to experience being an aunt. Likewise, any kids I might have won’t have aunts or uncles.] And with that…I am taking Irwin Natural’s natural sleep aid and going to bed. Early. link post comment

Only Child [Jun. 23rd, 2009|10:37 pm] Reflections on being an only child: ONE: Very little went unnoticed in my childhood. I like to phrase it this way because the stereotype that only children are “spoiled” never really sits right with me. I don’t believe I was spoiled, but having accomplishments both small and large continually recognized led to a very fortunate upbringing. I believe this is one reason I am compelled not just to write, but to share my writing with others. Being raised as an only child taught me, subconsciously, that things are made real by their recognition. Just as a piece of art is not complete until the viewer observes it, the things I try to comprehend through my writing do not feel temporal or grounded until they have been written and noticed on the page. TWO: I have an unending curiosity about my friends’ siblings. If a friend’s sibling comes to town, I tend to bend over backwards in order to meet him or her. This is perhaps because I owe a debt of gratitude to all the siblings of my friends throughout childhood (especially the Winfree girls), who taught me about everything from sex education, how to bully and be bullied, seeking revenge, how to tell a white lie, the inexhaustible possibilities of pulling pranks, how to sneak junk food in the middle of the night, and much more. These things were passed down to me either directly via the siblings or indirectly through the siblings’ influence over my friends. THREE: I will always, always wonder what it would have been like. FOUR: I have fantastic aunts and uncles. As a child, I remember them as enthusiastic, playful, supportive, and generous adults in my life. (The hierarchy was thus: Grandparents were basically the best thing on the planet but aunts and uncles were a close second. Dogs were #1 in their own category of four-legged animals.) As an adult, my aunts and uncles are still supportive but in a naturally hands-off way (not to mention they all have kids of their own now). They’re interesting and cool people, too, and they care about family. FIVE: For reasons two through four, if I ever have children I think I’d like to have more than one. That said, having one child would be fine so long as there are cousins who are about the same age that live very nearby and could almost suffice as siblings. On my dad’s side, my closest cousin in age is something like 14 years my senior. On my mom’s side, my closest cousin in age will graduate from college next year. This milestone is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time…not just his accomplishment of graduation, but his official “entrance,” more or less, into the independent adult world. Maybe soon enough our age differences won’t matter like. Maybe (and if I had siblings I’d better understand how to do this) we’ll be able to relate as adults and relatives in some very cool way that I’ve never experienced before. SIX: All of that said, I can’t say I wish things had been different. (Ok, that’s not entirely true: I wish my parents hadn’t had to suffer through multiple miscarriages.) I found a black and white photo of myself today, taken by my dad on one of our many trips to the Oregon coast. I was about four years old in the photo, posing proudly next to a very elaborate village of sand and seaweed that I had constructed. The villagers were Lego people aligned in perfect symmetry in front of their dome houses—all of them families of three. __ Stats: 36 mins = 3 miles link post comment

Pine Tree Challenge [Jun. 22nd, 2009|10:09 pm] Hanshi tells me that before I can test for Yonkyu (purple belt), I need to pass the Pine Tree Test. I’ve been working toward this on a small scale for about a year. But with Hanshi’s suggestion that I take (and hopefully pass) the test before my 7/30 departure date for Washington and Alaska, I’m entering summer with the bar set high. I timed myself on Part 2 of the test this Saturday after class. I completed 500 front kicks, 200 jumping jacks, 20 push ups, 50 sit ups, 75 punches w/ 10 lbs., 75 upper blocks w/ 10 lbs., and 40 Thai-style kicks in 26 minutes. The 4 minutes to “spare” would be used for 5 pull-ups (assisted, using the bar at the dojo) and 2 minutes freestyle on the bag, plus any lag time between events. This afternoon, I timed myself on Part 1 of the test, a three-mile run, which I completed in 33 minutes. In other words: not fast enough. I have approximately one month to not only speed up both parts of this physical challenge, but also train my body to perform them back-to-back. I know I can use interval training on the stationary bike at home to help me speed up my running time without adding to the impact on my knees. And if my wrist cooperates, I can pump more iron so that my push-ups, punches, and blocks are faster (thus buying me some time). Any chance I have any readers who are personal trainers? Suggestions are welcome, as the clock is ticking! If there is a saving grace in all of this it is perhaps the fact there is a seven-minute drive from the run in town (on flat land, paralleling the creek) to the dojo up the holler. Although the test isn’t designed with a break in it, Hanshi concedes he has no other choice and says I will test with the run in town first, then be driven to the dojo to complete the rest of my test. There is also Part 3 of the Pine Tree test, and that is the un-timed, written portion. Hanshi says I can take this in advance or take it after Parts 1 & 2, whichever I prefer. The written test includes a list of the 23 identifiable characteristics of the Shuri Ryu system, 8 performance categories and their principles, and all the meanings of the symbols on the Pine Tree patch. I’ll be posting regular reports of my times and running speeds for Parts 1 & 2. Wish me luck! link post comment

Happy Friday [Jun. 19th, 2009|03:55 pm] I woke up this morning after two consecutive nights of fantastic sleep and felt like a flip switched in my brain. Onward and upward, my morning mood seemed to say—and thank god for that! I suppose the Albizzia Rx tincture from my acupuncturist (prescribed during grad school for anxiety and obsessive thinking) helped out some too, as I took a dose of it two days ago. That said, under two weeks of moping/bitching/over-thinking isn’t too terribly bad for being disappointed in a friendship that didn’t turn out to be more. It must have also helped that I walked about 25 miles this week around the craft school on various back roads and loops, taking care of my friend’s dog. Walking does wonders for the body and spirit and I hope I never forget this. In the spirit of progress, here are some stats: I was selected as an Artist-in-Residence for the Western Art Agencies of North Carolina (that panel I interviewed with last week) for the 2009-2010 school year. I received 2 rejections, 1 we’re still thinking, and 1 acceptance this week. In addition to those, I have 7 submissions or queries out there, and 7 major job, residency, fellowship, or grant applications out there as well. I am currently working on 4 arts essays for publication. link post comment

Dessert In More Ways Than One [Jun. 18th, 2009|09:40 pm] I think I just came up with the best dessert, ever. The best dessert, that is, if you're officiating a wedding in six weeks and need to stay the EXACT weight you are or, better yet, lose 5 more pounds. It helps that I've already been working on this through my karate and cross training. But still. It's summer--one's natural inclination is to eat ice cream. Tonight I had a small bowl of frozen green grapes and frozen blueberries (always wash before you freeze, and freeze them singly rather than on the vine). Then I added a splash of Silk Soy creamer and a handful of toasted, shredded coconut. Easy enough, right? Perhaps it tasted that much better because I watched the following video of Andrew Bird's speical appearance with Mucca Pazza. I've seen both the musician and this dance/punk troupe live, but never together. Pretty sweet! Link: http://www.andrewbird.net/aviary/index.php link post comment

Mind Games [Jun. 17th, 2009|09:06 pm] I try to research formal studies on writers’ brains but all my searches either lead to links about “writer’s brain” from over-focusing or articles about obsessive compulsive disorder. I consider this momentarily (it’s a running joke in the family, after all – Katey, the OCD artist), then move on. Search. Re-search. Try new words, new orders, etc. No luck. Next, I tackle dresses online. I’ve been asked to officiate a dear friend’s wedding on August 1st in Washington. I must know what I will wear before I can write the ceremony, because in order to write the ceremony I have to be able to envision myself delivering it. That includes what I will be wearing, unless of course naked officiates are permitted. Finally, there is the task of upgrading my computer software. I’m dogsitting (again) and thus have high speed internet. During the course of an iTunes and QuickTime upgrade my computer crashes two times. The best (worst) part is when it starts to display messages in nine different languages, some of them sideways. But alas, the computer restarts both times taking me straightaway to my Obama HOPE desktop image—fitting, after a MacOSX freakout. (Have I mentioned that my computer is six years old?) All of this—the high speed, the searching and researching, the baking and eating of pizza during said activities—are some sort of drug of distraction. And they work…mostly. My friend emails: “You have a life outside the vortex. It’s there, waiting for you. Maybe, even, including a future partner.” She’s right. Like on the mountain is a vortex and life via the craft school is a vortex. But when is it not? Sure, there’s relative truth. But ultimately, life is what I think it is, no matter the time, place, or circumstance. Tonight, life feels as fleeting as the flash of a firefly. It is beautiful and then gone. I’m trying desperately not to waist mine on filament after filament of false hope. Reviewing the past and guessing the future are as fruitless as rolling blank dice. And so it is. link post comment

Other Things [Jun. 16th, 2009|09:42 pm] There really are other things to think about. Like the kind of green that settles across these hills in June. It’s no longer a spring-lime green. The view from my house does not include the diversity of greens it did in May. No, June’s green is the universal green of summer. Solid green. Determined green. In it for the long haul green. I could also think about the fact that by 2042, non-Hispanic whites will no longer make up a majority of the U.S. population and by 2050, 62% of the nation’s children will have a minority ethnicity. Now that is seriously cool! The ever-increasing postage rates are likewise worthy of thought. It no longer makes sense to mail $10/month payments on my MRI bill using a 44-cent stamp. That said, the wonder of the United States Postal Service never ceases to amaze me. For the price of a sticker and envelope, I can put something into the mail and know it will arrive at the appropriate address a few days later. I can do this for my entire lifetime and the letters I send will make their arrival almost, if not entirely, without fail. The magic of the USPS is like the magic of electricity to a small child. You flip the light switch and the light turns on. You lick the stamp and the letter is as good as received. Other things to think about include: whether or not to cancel my Netflix for the summer, whether putting warm leftovers in Tupperware will slowly kill me, whether the stray cat around my house will ever take the food I leave out (or whether it will die first, terrified and deluded as it is in its state of near-death), whether artists who incorporate found art into their work are making it their own or ripping it off, and whether the Baptist family from St. Augustine, Florida who just knocked on my friend’s door was using their 6-year-old daughter as fodder to convert the heathen artists or whether that little girl really wanted to recite Scripture to a total stranger in an odd location in the middle of a sunny, June day. The thing that does not need to be thought about any further but which I cannot stop thinking about is whether or not obsessive and circular thinking is a necessary attribute the fully immersed writer. Must a writer re-play and re-live events in her mind's eye and across the palate of her heart in order to fully comprehend them? As a monk runs his fingers across a river stone, must the writer repeat such scenes, images, ideas, and emotions again and again in order to a make a slow and steady impression? In order to make her mark? Are the images of the world and experiences of my own life the “found art” that I, the writer, incorporate into my view and words, trying to write them into coherence? Or is writing merely a protection in times of emotional dismay, a way of getting the kinks out on the page so that I do not humiliate myself in life?… link post comment

Too Much [Jun. 15th, 2009|11:25 pm] You think for a moment that kissing is like caffeine. It is addictive. It heightens the senses. It causes circular thinking under the guise of a rational optimism. Like trying to make the perfect cup, there is always the pursuit of the perfect kiss. Once you’ve had either, you are as good as haunted. But the metaphor falls apart right there. Kissing is a regulated commodity of the human heart whereas caffeine is quite accessible. Unlike your daily dose of coffee (courtesy your fantastic Saeco home espresso machine), kissing is hardly as simple as the push of a button. Kissable men are unlike fillable mugs insofar as you may see a kissable man and not be able to kiss him, but you may hold an empty mug and fill it to your heart’s content. In short, you can always push the button and fill your mug again, but when you turn to kiss the man again, he is gone. Gone until you see him, that is, driving his signature truck along Conley Ridge where you happen to be walking your friend’s dog. He slows to a stop, rolls down the window. “Hi,” he says. He’s wearing his hat, long hair unbraided, a line of sweat along his shirt from the labor of a long day, this, a side job. “Hey,” you say. You are wearing your spaghetti strap black tank top and walking a cute dog. How auspicious, you think. Then, No. Stop that. There are more words. The heat. Paint fumes. A hard, dirty day. The need for beer, sleep. You want to tell him he that beer and sleep are both better with company. That he ought to think a little less and live a little more. You want to shout: You. Are not getting. Any. Younger. You want to say: You’re a good man. That’s what you’re known for around here. I’m a good person. That’s what I’m known for around here. We should get together. You’re fucking this whole thing up. “See you later,” he says. (There were other words before that. What were they?) “See ya.” He drives off. You wonder: Which one of us is the greater coward? The man who is afraid to love or the woman who is afraid to go without it? link post comment

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