“We carry so many people and places and experiences inside us I’m always amazed we can keep moving forward. Our minds are so full of so much, and inside there everything is so vivid, so alive, so meaningful. I suppose, in some fashion, this is a question many philosophers have dealt with for many centuries,… Continue reading Quotable: Rios
Category: Tales from the MFA
Quotable: Borges
“I believe that books will never disappear. It is impossible that that will happen. Among the many inventions of man, the book without a doubt is the most astounding: all the others are extensions of our bodies. The telephone, for example, is the extension of our voice; the telescope and the microscope are extensions of… Continue reading Quotable: Borges
A dash of cayenne and whimsy
There was a spell of two weeks where I got an insider’s perspective of me in 40 years. An example might include me walking to a cabinet across the room and by the time I had reached it, had absolutely forgotten the important thing I needed to fetch. Mix in a bout of indecision and… Continue reading A dash of cayenne and whimsy
Borges in the basement
I need to get going and begin reading tonight. After leaving the residency, I feel as though I have taken on the form of a roadrunner. Since Sunday I have read selected poems by Lorca, Jimenez and Araceli Girmay. Poetry of light meets that of desire.Tonight I sniffed out three translations of two Borges poems… Continue reading Borges in the basement
Me, the snow bunny
Walking along patches of snow, my boots clomp into its forgiving mass. The silence is immense and I welcome its cheerful observance of my virgin boots stamping California steps onto New England land. Land- once splendid in its coat of many colors, now shorn to reveal just two. Just enough. White amidst charcoal accents. Charcoal… Continue reading Me, the snow bunny
A shift of sorts
2008 is winking at me in a mischevous man-at-the-bar-who’s-not-taking-himself-too-seriously sort of way. I am on the verge of ending my year-long fast of animal-given protein. As I mull what will be in 2008 (going dairy-free, purifying), I reflect in brief on classic moments of a self-imposed vegetarianism: — Hello beans and legumes! Hey, we were… Continue reading A shift of sorts
When the police are not your friends
Tonight I was up in my room peacefully reading more poetry by a Puerto Rican wordsmith. A friend came into my doorway saying she was the bearer of bad news. She looked stricken and held in her hand a sliver of a piece of green paper. It says: This vehicle is illegally parked California Vehicle… Continue reading When the police are not your friends
When spending time with a Puerto Rican poet
I feel like smoking, long drags on an ever dwindling cigarette. And the thing is I don’t smoke- except for that one time at Dana’s house lying on her roof with several classmates during junior high…but that’s a story for another time as I can see my Mom pursing her lips in that “Annelies!” way… Continue reading When spending time with a Puerto Rican poet
Ode to my favorite festival
oh spanakopita, you look niceta next to vegetarian moussaka the night is young, let me danceta next to hot men in tight pantseta… How excited am I that this weekend marks the Greek Festival in SF? It is my absolute favorite one of the mix held in a city that loves festivals. You may ask… Continue reading Ode to my favorite festival
When it rolls right on out
Tonight, my good intentions of homework were thwarted by a line that’s been stuck in my head ever since it planted itself firmly into the sodden turf at work yesterday. it was not moving and told me placidly that it was here to stay until i reckoned with what it had to tell me. After… Continue reading When it rolls right on out
Jumping back into the fray
If you find me slow to respond over the next oh six months, I have posted exhibit A below as evidence for my whereabouts. One book is still missing from the flock and while in New York I will attempt to hunt down Yona Wallach’s shepherd press contribution. This semester finds me exploring poetry: of… Continue reading Jumping back into the fray
On mystery and writing
My mentor made a comment to me over lunch during the residency, nicely sandwiched in between bites of strawberries doused by whipping cream. She has this way about her that penetrates and asks the questions around which others might lollygag. But not her. Its importance is not attached to being said between bites. I sat… Continue reading On mystery and writing