Mid Afternoon Rain

Amanda makes me want to be better---and her latest blog post explains why I want to write and what writing can do. Yesterday I was talking with Marcela about the poems you write because you have to and the poems for poetry audiences and the poems for your own friends and family and how often times these poems are not one and the same and never could be. Though Amanda seems to unify it all into something for us all---friends, family, strangers, all readers.

Something about her post speaks to something inside me---much in the way that Charlotte Kendrick songs do. Just saw her in concert and North of New York is a must cd for anyone---how someone can name something inside of you and just offer it to you without you knowing it was yours.

I would write something personal about Jonathan here, but I'm afraid. So I'll just say sometimes I just want to curl my arms and legs around him, but not in that way. In the way as if we were roots or potatoes, in the way of love being something not tangible that everything curls and sways in the dance of it. A memory of motion and semblance of holding.

I'm not yet at the heart of it. I'm trying to find my way back to a memory of who I was. Perhaps in Kent.

Outside is a storm. Frank is growling. In this way, I think we're sensing the same thing. I had been thinking of tears and now drops.

It's all coming down...

Last Night's Burlesque Photos

now, that's HOT!!!

How to Use Bananas

Ramona can tell you!

My Sweet Chick Pea

Even though Frank has a fun carrot to play with, he's not really a vegetarian. But I am and since I've gone veg. again, I've felt like I've had more energy. Though DC in the summer will keep you from eating heavy foods anyway. Lately, my favorite thing to make has been a chick pea salad. I mix a can with chopped parsley and dill, celery and red onions, kosher salt, and freshly ground pepper and either use fresh squeezed lemon and olive oil or red wine vinegar and olive oil.

Kitchens I've Loved

Sometimes I wonder how much coincidence and fate plays into our lives. When I was a grad. student in NY I met a woman who was an assistant to various writers about town. I thought that was my dream job so she told me that when she was offered a job she couldn't take, she'd pass along my name. Months later, I was working for Joan Larkin.

Grad. school was going rough. The poetry world in NYC was a far leap from Kent, Ohio, but as soon as I set foot in Joan's kitchen I felt like I was back in Ohio. The light was coming through the window. It was winter, you could see snow on the tree in her yard. I think we even had tea before we got started.

And now, years after that first day and wonderful job of assisting Joan, our paths cross again. While she's off teaching in Florida, I'll be cooking in that kitchen that felt like home so long ago.

It's funny how much time I've spent looking on craig's list and etc. trying to find a place, and here it was, already in my frame of reference.

Internet Craze

This morning, the internet went down and it threw me for a loop. I was going to have breakfast and relax at home and read my students' work via Blackboard. Instead, I had to actually put on shoes and head to my office on campus. What I learned is that I am much more productive when there aren't cabinets to organize, snacks to be had, laundry to do, Frank to play with.

So, I came home after reading everyone's stories and am back online--how it comes and goes is a mystery---but now, somehow, back online and procrastinating, I've stumbled across an Israeli poet and filmmaker who is my age---Netalie Braun. Here and here are some links. I have to find a way to see her film, Metamorphosis. Any ideas anyone?

First Book Interviews

You can find me kicking the wind today.

Frank vs. The Scale

Frank went to the vet today to get his shots and it turns out, he's gained weight...he's now a whopping 16+ lbs. And that's with eating diet cat food. No snacks or anything. Maybe Frank should start coming to yoga with me!

Ah well, he'll be in good hands with cousin Leslie while I'm off in NYC---no cupcakes for the Frankster though :)

Things are humming along with poetry stuff---working on Bruce's book, the anthology and WWPH stuff. I seem to be doing much more administrative things---even sending some of my work out, but not as much writing as I'd like---though I did manage to work on a poem for 30 minutes when I woke up. I still work off of sheer inspiration and lately lines have been coming to me. Nothing finished yet, but just lines all over the place. It's a poem about Dinah. And that seems fitting b/c I'm getting more ready for Drisha mentally I think.

Someone joked around about me becoming Shomer N'giah today. As if! But who knows, I have gone back to being a vegetarian and I've been in a serious relationship for over a year now and I know that's not where many of my college friends could easily picture. I was the Baskin Robins of dating back then. But after working on that essay about Suzy's wedding weekend, I've realized how much we have all grown, that we're not those girls who stay up reading and laughing and wearing slutty tank tops---though on occassion we will slip back to those days, we are not those same girls, nor should we desire to be them.

Frank is licking the last little bit of his kibbles---he crunches and I'm clicking the keys before I try to even figure out what I'm going to wear for the reading...

To Be or Not to Be!

Got the proof sheets from deep cleveland so the anthology of poems is one more step closer to being an actual book! I was trying to proof some while bartending last night but that proved to be too difficult to move from one emotional space to another. Even after sitting with these poems for seven years, I get chills reading them even though I know most of them by heart.

Friday night Jonathan and I saw Hamlet at the Folger and while it was really cool to see stage combat for the first time, I wasn't overly impressed with the performance. The way Hamlet was portrayed was really annoying---though perhaps any angst-ridden teenager wouldn't be all that likeable and overly dramatic.

I'm off to NYC to read at Bluestockings bookstore next Thursday! Magnolia cupcakes await!

Shameless Endorsements

My new favorite little spot in DC is Domku. I'm hoping to be able to get over to this cute cafe more often and get some writing done. They've got all the good Eastern European fare and beer so it will remind me of when I was the young expat writer in Prague.

I've also just ordered Rosemary Winslow's Green Bodies (Word Works) and Jehanne Dubrow's The Painted Bride (Finishing Line Press).

And I've found a new whiskey, Elmer T. Lee, though do they really need to have their web address be greatbourbon.com? Really!

I liked Jury Duty even though I didn't get picked for the case. Thanks to my end of the alphabet status. Finally it pays to be in the back of the room. I even watched some of the political debates this week. Hmm, what's going on?

The asana of the month is navasana, boat pose (pictured above)! I'm feeling a little iffy about it, but maybe I'll warm up to it like I did to marichyasana.

And Rouge has a new menu---and plenty of vegetarian and healthy options so if you haven't come to visit me at the bar, now you have a whole new reason to. Can we say grilled caesar salad, all kinds of sliders (mini sandwichs), main courses--yes! you can eat dinner here and the salmon comes with two sauces---spinach pesto and tomato. Not quite as good as my mango salmon, but after one dirty martini or perfect manhattan and you'll never know!

Shoulding all over my Saturday

David Lehman once wrote to me in a Letter to Younger Poets (published in Teachers and Writer's Magazine a while ago) Carly: The enemy of poetry is a should.

I'm not exactly sure what he was trying to tell me. Maybe he knew how goal oriented I was or how I always needed to be doing something, moving towards some greater goal. Which is funny, because I have never looked at myself as someone who was a "should" person. But when I take a step back, I realize I've always been an organizer, a planner and someone who wanted to do something. And lately, a lot of my friends have been pointing that out. Telling me I'm driven and successful. I haven't seen it that way. Instead of seeing where I am, I see where I "should" be. A part time teacher and part time bartender doesn't seem to be as successful to me as it does to them. Though maybe that's because I'm already thinking of the next step. The next should thing to do---be a yoga teacher because at some point the only time I'll wear tank tops will be on my yoga mat. Although, I'm not sure should goes with yoga and perhaps less than it goes with writing.

So, to stop shoulding, I had coffee with a wonderful writer, Michelle this morning and I'm really lucky to have someone older and wiser to bounce off life questions as well as fiction questions. I think one of the reasons I'm really into the fiction right now is that there's no pressure---no where to feel like I have to submit to yet. The goal is just to write. I miss that. I've been sending around a version of an essay to my girlfriends about where we are in life, and they've helped to reconfirm that we all need to stop playing the should game. There is no place, no dream job, relationship, apartment, house, etc. we should have. We should just be. Though really, who does that anymore?

After that, I met Jonathan at the gym and we sat outside and had lunch afterwards. He just finished cutting the watermellon for tomorrow's dinner party. Staccato cuisine---food inspired by poems with the word "staccato" in mind. I'll post more on this after the fact.

Oh, and I made the Wick news!

Good GABA!!!

Study Finds Yoga Associated With Elevated Brain GABA Levels

(Boston) - May 22, 2007-- Researchers at Boston University School of Medicine (BUSM) and McLean Hospital have found that practicing yoga may elevate brain gamma-aminobutyric (GABA) levels, the brain’s primary inhibitory neurotransmitter.

The findings, which appear in the May issue of the Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, suggest that the practice of yoga be explored as a possible treatment for depression and anxiety, disorders associated with low GABA levels. The World Health Organization reports that mental illness makes up to fifteen percent of disease in the world. Depression and anxiety disorders both contribute to this burden and are associated with low GABA levels. Currently, these disorders have been successfully treated with pharmaceutical agents designed to increase GABA levels. Using magnetic resonance spectroscopic imaging, the researchers compared the GABA levels of eight subjects prior to and after one hour of yoga, with 11 subjects who did no yoga but instead read for one hour.

The researchers found a twenty-seven percent increase in GABA levels in the yoga practitioner group after their session, but no change in the comparison subject group after their reading session. The acquisition of the GABA levels was done using a magnetic resonance spectroscopy technique developed by J. Eric Jensen, PhD, an assistant professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and an associate physicist at McLean Hospital. According to the researchers, yoga has shown promise in improving symptoms associated with depression, anxiety and epilepsy. “Our findings clearly demonstrate that in experienced yoga practitioners, brain GABA levels increase after a session of yoga,” said lead author Chris Streeter, MD, an assistant professor of psychiatry and neurology at BUSM and a research associate at McLean Hospital.“This study contributes to the understanding of how the GABA system is affected by both pharmacologic and behavioral interventions and will help to guide the development of new treatments for low GABA states,” said co-author Domenic Ciraulo, MD, professor and chairman of the department of psychiatry at BUSM.“The development of an inexpensive, widely available intervention such as yoga that has no side effects but is effective in alleviating the symptoms of disorders associated with low GABA levels has clear public health advantage,” added senior author Perry Renshaw, MD, PhD, director of the Brain Imaging Center at Harvard-affiliated McLean Hospital.

This study was supported in part by grants from the national Institute of Drug Abuse; the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism; the National Center for Research Resources, and the Gennaro Acampora Charity Trust to the Division of Psychiatry, Boston Medical Center.

Om! Orange!

In yoga, there has been much quoting of Thich Nhat Hanh. The first time I had read him was in Dr. Wattles' Intro. to Philosophy class freshman year of college. I had no idea what it was really about or even how to say his name. I was 18 and not very well read. But it spoke to me the most. It wasn't worded like Western Philosophy. It felt more like poetry in a way, more rooted in nature. It wasn't preachy and it didn't over simplify.

My practice today was full of ease. For the longest time, I didn't think I could bind because my arms seemed short to me---at least shorter than everyone else's. But lately, I've been able to do this pose here!

I'm learning that ancient wisdom of that little engine, that if you chug a little each day, you'll get there. Today we were reminded not to be tied up in the sorrows of the past, or to think too far into everything we have to do in the future. But to be in the moment and enjoy it.

Mark emailed me and told me were chugging along with the anthology and perhaps I'll even have a sample cover to post soon. And finally, good food and even better company in Chicago. Len and Jenn took Jonathan and I to Orange where I got to mix juice combinations to Ramona's heart's content.

Chi-Town, The Next Round!

Here's a picture of mom and I at Hot Chocolate in Chicago---check out my new 'do! Tomorrow I'm off to Chicago again---went with mom last week for Mother's Day and these are the pics...the dessert looks good, but the company was better. Though today, it was all about the dark chocolate cake at Leopold's. Sorry Hot Chocolate, the hometown takes it!

Reb and I will be reading here at 7 p.m. on Tuesday May 22nd. I haven't done a reading in a while---seems as if I've almost forgotten about the book with teaching, writing fiction, wwph stuff---did a little bit of grant work so hopefully we'll get a small projects grant from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities. Maybe then we can afford an ad in Poets and Writers or get a table at AWP---though it always seems like these "big" and "established" places are more resume builders and I'm not sure if this is the best way to spend money. As I was running back from the "meeting" in Elizabeth's Ford Aspire, parked illegally outside the Mansion at O Street---I actually ran out in my pajama pants and had a college flashback---but I'm digressing---I ran into my neighbors across the way and we talked about how much work artists put in and it being such a labor of love. Luckily for me, I still love what I do and the bartending pays the bills.

Though as much as I like getting propositioned by drunks, getting tequilla spilled on me, and sweeping up broken glass, I wish for more big tips for writing---maybe that just means submitting to more contests and grants though! Ok, I'm ready for the next round.

Bottoms up!

Good News!

WWPH in the City Paper!

Larry Larry Bo Berry....

Last night was the awards ceremony for the Larry Neal Writing Awards. I really felt like I was taken back to high school speech and debate competitions. While it was exciting to be there, it just didn't seem like it was a night geared at all for adults. Sarah Browning and I took Honorable Mention while Regie Cabico and Fred Joiner took third and second respectively. Some woman none of us knew snagged the big prize. The best part was that my cousins were there cheering me on and we had dinner at Cafe Belga afterwards.

Sometimes I wonder about how much we have to go through as writers. There are so many contests and awards and it feels like there is always more you could be doing to promote yourself and get your work out there and garner enough fellowships and honors so that you're perceived as "qualified" and "talented." Though I know this is something everyone laments, that we all could do more, no matter what our professions are. What ever happened to Art for Art's sake?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not all bent out of shape about this---this is a minor ding in the frame, means it's time for me to just write and not think about sending things out, except for that big NEA grant :)

Now, if only I lived in Portland, I could have one of these ice cream sandwiches and feel better. Maybe I'll stop by Larry's on the way to Rouge---get out the bad Larry and in with the good Larry!

Law Prom Cat and Mouse!

While we were off dancing the night away....

Frank was throwing wild cat parties at home!!!

A Prose by Any Other Name

What I just realized about my fiction is that it is most often autobiographical in some nature--which is how I started writing poetry in the first place. Now, there's not so much "I" in my poetry. I think this is how writers begin. You start with the nucleus of yourself and move outward. This makes sense as my fiction writing is much younger than my poetry. I've been feeling guilty that it was National Poetry month and I was deep into my affair with prose. On Friday I told Jonathan I wanted to write a novel that made it into airport bookstores. I never had that ambition as a poet. That world was so much smaller---more sacred in a way. Or at least, less ambition. I keep turning out prose, but so far am keeping most of it to myself or at least only letting friends and family read it.

Last night we had a wonderful Burlesque--pictures will be up soon so check them out. I finally got to meet Alison Stine! Her chapbook came out of Kent State and she was a year older than me and for the longest time I wanted to be like her. Her poems reminded me of the narratives I wanted to tell. And watching them grow---they slip more into the surreal now---moving away from that epicenter of truth, meaning easy facts, stories, and memories. I wonder if this is how we all journey as writers. Starting out more grounded and tentative and then off into the swirling and twirling regions that lack the characteristics that compelled us to write in the first place. Jordan Davis and Mairead Byrne made me laugh, taking seemingly boring and daily objects and infusing them with humor and life. I had needed some good cheer and they really worked their magic on me. I also watched Jordan and Ali hold hands much of the night. It was their first reading together as a married couple. *Awww!*

This week is the big LAW Prom. This year my dress was on sale, but it's still designer and I can wear those fabulous silver shoes I bought on impulse because of the brand name, United Nude.

Pink Lady and Lady in White

The other day, I watched that Southern Lady on the Cooking Network make Pink Ladies. They sounded gross to me---gin, grenadine, and cream. And if you're daring, an egg white. So, Thursday being my first bartender shift in a while (I usually cocktail), I thought, what the hell. And like the MR 4 Sandwich at Tommy's in Coventry (falafel, bananas, spinach, and curry), all that nonsense came out delicious. So the Buddha lesson for the weekend---looks can be deceiving. Sometimes what appears hideous is actually sensational! Try it, I dare you!!!

Too bad, I didn't put the Pink Lady on the menu for Suzy's wedding, it would have been a pretty Florida cocktail---but I have other recipes up my sleeve. She even asked for a poem, so for those of you not able to go, here's a taste. (Sandra has been inspiring me with posting poems on her blog)

Epithalamium
for Suzy

I remember the night of your twenty-first birthday,
how you mooned me from our driveway.
Your bare ass lit in the streetlight,

you would be the first one of us to become mother,
before bride, that so often I thought it was you,
not me, who had it backwards,

or how we all tried to make sense, some kind of order,
as you, our girl in track suits
swished into a womanhood

none of us ever doled out for you,
the way we tried to predict each other
down cul-de-sacs into marriage

and pregnancies, all of us spinning
our own delicate dreams,
making promises over pitchers

in darkened bars---
we knew some things would change,
but we promised we wouldn’t change.

I think of you now as my plane lands in Dallas,
asking for this, your wedding poem from me,
for me to weave your life into symbols

and images, to collect grade school notes folded
into swans or faded snapshots of bright-eyed
freshmen, the way we painted stars on the ceiling

of a room we shared or tried to coax butterflies
into landing on our fingers at the conservatory
in Niagara Falls, the way the ocean rises to meet

the sky, or sky lays itself down, either in prayer
or slumber, rapture or necessity---
something unlocking as everything blurs

at the horizon and we cannot help our eyes,
fixed at the vanishing point,
trying to figure out this---
the ordinary magic
we call love.

Otherwise, An Iris, Wild....

I do love tag and since Sandra tagged me, here goes---Amanda McGuire first introduced me to Jane Kenyon when we were in Maj's Poetry class back at Kent. Amanda was one year older and was someone I admired greatly, so when she said I should read Jane Kenyon, she became my new favorite poet. What I continually love is the quiet flare. Her poems are like a favorite pair of jeans or simple cotton tank. Basic, but not boring---poems about living and really seeing the immediate world around you.

*

I also remember when I read Louise Gluck in graduate school. I was mesmerized by The Wild Iris. I was sitting at this coffee shop on Christopher Street and really felt pulled page to page---this was the first time I was introduced to a poetic series. Needless to say, I don't think my steam would exist if it weren't for these poems. In both of these women, I love the connection to the earth and to the process of growing.