Sunday, September 18, 2005
Tonight I walked home from the DCAC reading in Adams Morgan. It's one of my favorite walks--even though it's all Connecticut (which includes the bridge). It's strange how things pop up. I have been mulling over that "purple" poem for a while and ended up jotting some things down and then on my way home on Kalorama, there was a huge box of stuff outside someone's row house with a sign that said free. So I looked through the goods and found an old white frame with some dried lavender in it. Naturally I slipped it in my purple bag. I was also wearing a purple top. Hence the chain of events Purple to poetry to reading to poetry to purple to poetry...something circular and mysterious. I keep turning over a borrowed phrase comic book midnight and how you can come at purple (use that as metaphor) from so many different angles. I have one draft that I'm really happy with and a few others that also could be interesting. Epic purple perhaps.