I have a review planned, as well as a blog post about my recent art class, but a malaise seems to be limiting my ability to churn much out.
Meanwhile, here is a wonderful video from Brain Pickings, featuring the very prolific Neil Gaiman:
I am an aficionado of notebooks. In addition to my big Lee-Valley Everyman’s Journal, which I write in at home, every morning, I carry around a smaller notebook that fits in whatever bag I’m using. I like leather-bound, smaller notebooks that fit in a purse; but lately I’ve been using plain old composition books, a stack of which I bought last year for $1 each.
These smaller notebooks are for poems, ostensibly — I started the practice back in my “one bad poem” phase (which lasted for 5 years) — but I also scribble character sketches and quotes and reminders in them. I write down reading recommendations, and I write down scraps from books I’m reading (Someone by Alice McDermott; The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson [again]).
Here’s an unattributed quote that found its way in just the other day:
IF YOU WANT SOMETHING YOU HAVE NEVER HAD
YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING YOU HAVE NEVER DONE
List items: Send Mary Oliver poem to Therese; Xarelto lawsuit?; Kristin Neff, on-line guided meditations; pachad, yirah — two kinds of fear (courtesy Tara Mohr); big new (?) ferryboat Tokitae, not usually on this run; call K.M.; find Kahlil Gibran‘s poem, “Your Children Are Not Your Children”; write a blog post about C.D.’s “Lick Your Rats” discussion (lecture?).
Since the first of the year, I have been attempting to write 200 words a day on my new novel (vs. the old one which is at the editing stage) and I’ve filled up this occasional notebook pretty fast. I’m just about to retire it, so I thought I’d go through it to see what I’d left undone. And then I thought I’d share it with you.
It’s good to be portable. What’s your notebook?
When I heard that my friend Carla Shafer was teaching a poetry workshop in Bellingham on Feb. 28, I told her I would attend. One of my daughters goes to Western Washington University, and I thought I could have lunch with her, and thus kill two birds with one stone.
I didn’t pay much attention to the topic of the workshop–yes, I really have been that busy, just kind of moving from one thing to another, keeping my head down–but “killing two birds” was not in keeping with the day.
It turned out that Annie was going to be home for the weekend. It turned out that I was mucho stressed about my mother, kind of (not kind of, really) depressed, in fact. I woke up Thursday morning with a sore throat and decided that I would tell Carla I was sick and not attend the workshop afterall.
Then, the most amazing thing happened. I talked to a friend about being depressed, and she gave me an assignment to do something that brings me joy. Joy? I laughed nervously.
I just want to nap, I said. I just want to bury myself in a mystery novel and stay in bed all day. And that brings you joy? she said.
Well, I said, poetry used to bring me joy, and I was supposed to go to a workshop Saturday morning.
Then go, she said. And so I did.
I had an absolutely amazing day. In addition to being about poetry and poets, the purpose of the day was an award ceremony 
hosted by “World Peace Poets.” I saw a film about Oregon poet William Stafford. I drafted a new poem. I met a number of Bellingham and British Columbia poets, saw a few old friends. And, as a bonus, was able to have dinner with my friend Carla.
World peace, and poetry. Can it get any better?
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1ZOWwW2agQ&w=560&h=315]