Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Confession . . .

So . . . I love Project Runway.

Meredith and I are addicted. We both loved Laura's cocktail dress. We both were shocked when a French citizen egged Michael Knight's couture gown. We both think Jeffrey's an ass, but we liked his couture gown.

Help. It's being TiVoed right now and Mere's not home. I want to sneak a peek, but . . .

Friday, September 22, 2006

Fall Cometh

Meredith and I are enjoying the last of our Summer vacation. The weather has gotten palpably colder, and the sun has been setting sooner than I've been used to. I've also been feeling sleepy at 10PM. That's a sure sign to me. We've been trying to watch X-Files Season 3 DVD's and I've been falling asleep through some of the episodes (I've already seen all of them, but I need to stay awake to field questions from the significant other).

***

Many folks have been talking about the Best of American Poetry series. To be honest, I stopped buying the series years ago. I'm less interested individual poems, these days, and more interested in what an artist does over a long series. Anyway, what's evident is that poetry, or for that matter, the arts, is operating in a patron/patronage system, and many people wish for a more democratic system. Rather than the wealthy or the nobility commissioning writers/artists to create a portrait or write an ode, nowadays we have grant-giving institutions issuing monetary grants--mentors bestowing blessings upon their betters. We hope that such an institution, again, would be more democratic but often the selection committee members know of a dude who knows a dude. What we need to be clear about is that the arts and many other ventures function under a gift economy (quid pro quo). I do like what what Charlie has to say about this whole affair.

To be sure, I've participated in this gift economy. I've told friends to check out this journal or that reading venue. I've also been solicited by friends to submit work to journals, anthologies, etc.. At the time I've done these "favors," I didn't see them as "favors," but as community-building. Would I like a system that allows for a broader democratic participation? Of course. I would also love more acts of charity as well as humility. Meantime, I'm going to continue writing, sending my work out to journals, filing my rejections in a large folder, filing my acceptances in a small folder, and I'm going to do my best to model my understanding of what it means to be a writer.

***

I've been cleaning up my office. I finally hung up some curtains. They're quite ugly and they don't fit correctly on the posts. At least I won't have the administrators staring at me while I surf blogs . . .

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

The Woman Warrior at 30

The Woman Warrior @ 30

September 29, Friday
1pm-5:30pm panel discussions
NYU Kimmel Center
60 Washington Square South, Shorin Performance Studio, 8th Floor

7pm Reception at the Asian American Writers' Workshop
16 West 32nd Street, 10th Floor (between Broadway and Fifth Ave)

RSVP by Tuesday, September 26 to (212) 992-9653, apa.rsvp@nyu.edu or
online at www.apa.nyu.edu APA

Join the afternoon panel of writers, artists, scholars, and the author
herself as they pay tribute to the legacy of Maxine Hong Kingston's
seminal 1976 semi-autobiographic novel The Woman Warrior. The afternoon
panel topics include: The Woman Warrior, Literary Forms and Other Genres;
Women and The Woman Warrior; and Politics, Immigration and The Woman
Warrior. The tribute culminates in an evening reception at the Asian
American Writers' Workshop.

Panelists include:
Meena Alexander
Christine Balance
Fay Chiang
Luis H. Francia
Gloria Jacobs
Susana Lei'ataua
Sunita Mukhi
Crystal Parikh
Cyrus Patel
Sheridan Prasso
Kate Rigg
Svati Shah
Karen Shimakawa
Ellen Wu

In collaboration with the Asian American Writer's Workshop and the
National Book Foundation

For more information:
Alexandra Chang
Events Coordinator
Asian/Pacific/American Institute
New York University
41-51 East 11th Street, 7th floor
New York, NY 10003
212-992-9651 office
212-995-4705 fax
achang@nyu.edu

Friday, September 15, 2006

The end of summer

Yesterday, Meredith and I went shopping for decorations. We've redesigned parts of the house, most notable being Meredith's office. It's a cute little cubby, but she needed flooring and bookcases. Anyway, it rained almost all day and it's slated to rain for most of the week. I suppose it's fitting that the last days of Summer serve as a transition into Fall. A part of me is grateful for the rain because it means I can start planting trees to patch up some of the dead spaces on the grounds . . . the other part of me dreads the coming Fall because I know it means the long rainy season is upon us.

We were stacking wood that I had chopped earlier in the evening and the cedar smell was reminding me of my first days of school when I was a kiddo. I loved getting those packets of #2 pencils. I'd have 'em all sharpened that evening. WWU's first days are coming. I've got meetings, etc., that come with returning to campus. I've been slacking with my course prep, partly because I've taught the classes before. However I am using a new text for my Introduction to Poetry Writing. One thing I know about the students I've taught is that they're nowhere near as well-read as they THINK they are. I had taught the earlier classes with a handbook (thin with no examples/poems) and three collections by poets. The students weren't taking the time to actually read the collections, even though their grades depended on their discussions and analysis of these collections. I suppose they hadn't learned how to read a collection because they hadn't seen enough variety. This time I'm using a thicker handbook with more examples by other poets. It's so difficult choosing a "good" textbook for an introductory class. Most of the time I supplement a great deal of the resources.

***

Currently spinning in my iTunes: Before Night Falls soundtrack. Thank you S.B. and A.M.

***

Also bought seasons 2 and 3 of The X-Files. Meredith is hooked. We were watching DVR's of the X-Files from TV, but they were out of sequence and she was getting confused. It's funny to see the transition in Gillian Anderson's appearance. At the start of the series she's dowdy and her hair's fairly long. By the end of season 2, she's glammed up. The camera's panning closer to her face, her skin's flawless and her hair and her clothes are much more fashionable.

Meanwhile Meredith has fallen in love with David Duchovny. That's okay, I suppose, if you like tall, dark-haired guys with good abs, conviction, and intellect with a deep emotional scar that fuels their passion . . .

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Busy day

I was an industrious little bee today. I mailed off manuscripts to contests and spent nearly $200.00 in the process. Why are these things so damn expensive?

***

After my month of rapid writing, I'm feeling kind of tapped. Out of the flurry, I think I wrote about ten or twelve pieces I can revise and submit. And I need to toss them out of the house soon or I'll go mad.

***

Reading Ann Lauterbach's book of essays as well as Steve Scafidi's new collection (thanks Pat).

Check out this poem by Mr. Scafid from his book For Love of Common Words:


The Boy Inside the Pumpkin


At five hundred and thirty pounds it won the blue ribbon
at the Fredrick County Fair and because all such vegetables
are too bitter to eat something had to be done--

and it was decided to haul the pumpkin to the river and the boy
inside the pumpkin meanwhile lay curled in the dark mash
while they rolled it to the edge of the tailgate and heaved it

to the ground and he must have been in there all spring and all
summer and through the long hot hours must have grown
restless in the goop although he looked almost peacful lying

naked by the river among the broken leaves and the seeds where
the ambulance drivers stood on their knees amazed
beside the boy opening his eyes as the slow Potomac moved

to the Chesapeake bay and the ocean where the waves make
their way to every coast in the world and the boy inside
the pumpkin lies quietly in this world like a fact of the unlikely

and the most unlikely things happen everyday in this world
and we go on unchanged and a body was found
on a baseball diamond in Frederick Maryland last spring

wearing only a t-shirt face down with both arms underneath
the body and the details are listed in the Metro Section
of the Washington Post and so when you read about the child

you learn he was only nine years old and had a faint birthmark
the exact shape of Kentucky on the small of his back
and could talk like a duck when he wanted to and you learn

the most unspeakable things in the slender Metro Section
of the Washington Post and it corrupts your sense
of the world to know how often the impossible happens upon us

without mercy and it is not the fit subject of poetry and it is
offensive to redeem the horror of that boy's last hours
but I can't stop trying to salvage something from the murderous

and the poisonous and last spring some small ordinary blossoms
grew suddenly more gigantic everyday and the boy inside
the vine became the boy inside the pumpkin who became

a turning in the darkness no one noticed although for a week
hundreds of people at the fair stroked the fat sides of
the pumpkin and were amazed and a boy leans up on his elbows

now in the moss beside the river and looks around bewildered
and asks for his mother and his father and they are delivered
amazed and these things never happen. They happen everyday.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Lesson #8573

iTunes store purchase+ dial-up connection = 5 hours downloading a single album.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Wait for it . . .

. . .

(looks around for muse)

. . .

Patrick Tickling the Ivory


Patrick Tickling the Ivory
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Patrick came up to Bellingham/Maple Falls for a visit. We had pizza at the North Fork Brewery. Then we took him up to see views of Mount Shuksan and Mount Baker. He was quite freaked. :D

Later that evening, he played some piano. After dinner, Meredith and I scared him with our stories of coyotes, bears, snakes, and brown recluses.

So if you're ever up near Bellingham, look us up. We'll give you acrophobia and then we'll talk about all the scary wild animals in our wilderness.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Doodling . . .

Manhood




Let me prove it to you. I’ll sit here
and look you in the eye with a knee
to my back and blood
dripping from my nostril. I’ll batter
my head against a brick wall, cut
my knuckles on teeth and bleed
a few more ounces. I’ve been knocked down
more than once. I’m sick
enough to know not to quit.
I’m not tired just yet. Listen, I can swing
like a windmill. I’ll ground you
to powder. I’ll not bat an eye
or blink at your flurries. I can take it.
I can stick my chin up and receive
the grace of your upper-cut. Lord,
is that all you can dish? Are you not
heart enough? Are you not ghost
enough to give me a lickin’? Quick,
jab my nose. Kick my shin
and toss me to the ground. Shovel
the dirt on me. Split my lip.
Crack my rib. Spit on my grave.
I’ll fight filthy.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Farewell to Andre



I watched Agassi's last professional tennis match. He fell to B. Becker. I thought it was rather amusing that he would lose to an old nemesis. *wink* Anyway, Agassi looked old and tired. As someone who has experienced back pain from tennis, I could sympathize with poor Andre. He was wincing in pain when he had to bend down to tie his shoes. Anyway, I was hoping he'd get into the quarter finals or semi's to top Jimmy Connor's last run at the US Open, but alas. Outside of that, Steffi Graf was looking good and I wish Andre well in his retirement.

***

My parents were here for the weekend. They were quite impressed with the modifications we've made. Last time they came to visit, the house was dark, unkempt, old-looking. My folks are looking for a retirement house. They've JUST realized that their market for houses is not the same as THIS market for houses. Mere and I rode in the real estate agent's car with my folks. I could tell the agent was getting frustrated, so Mere and I took it upon ourselves to explain the differences between desire and availability. The tours weren't fruitless, though. We saw some items we'd like to integrate into our own living spaces.

***

Writing day today. I had to put the desk on hold while the parents were in town. I've been really into this poem series . . . So far, about ten drafts of poems that I'll need to tidy-up. I've also got a couple of essays I need to spit out soon.

I spoke with Adrian Matejka and Stacey Brown the other day (HI! If you're reading). It was good talking to them. I'm alone with my thoughts on poetry for most of the time, so I enjoyed talking to them about the state of poetry these days.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Country Boy


Fear my blade
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Yes. That's me chopping firewood. Cue the fiddle and the banjo.

Got my bloodwork done . . .

Therefore I will eat many cheese thingies with butter, salt, and sugar. And I'll make sure to deep-fat fry them. Also, I will eat lots and lots of red red meat and chitlins and pork rinds and salted nuts with salted buttered popcorn sprinkled with molasses and sugar. And I'll eat M & M's coated in fried twinkie bits, fried in fried chicken with eggs. And I'll add to all that a turducken with toasted and fried chicken fried steak and eggs with twinkie bits and salted pork loin with melted butter on top. And then I'll fry my chocolate bar in red meat with lots and lots of egg yolks, basted in a turducken, grilled, seared, and blenderized with Butterfinger pieces, then re-fried with Cherry Garcia ice cream. After that, I'll polish my meal off with a chocolate milk shake fried in pork fat and lard, smothered in a turducken with lots and lots of twinkie bits, a kielbasa, and some bacon.

I'm going on a fried-food bender. Scrape me off the carpet when I'm done.


***

I just finished watching the Agassi vs. Baghdatis match. I was screaming at the television. Meredith kept wondering what the hell was going on.

***

Revisiting books by Frankie Paino and Killarney Clary.

***

Mere and I have been watching much homeowner porn. Design Star is great.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

From an Assignment

Here was the assignment: Untruth

Here's the poem I attempted, since some of you were curious (and some of you doubted whether I was honestly doing the assignments myself . . . you know who you are):



Lies




We were half baked in the filaments of light bulbs
and conveyors spitting potatoes past our hands
when Jose said the most bald-faced bullshit I’ve ever heard

starting with him taking the McGregor girl out
for a spin in a set of borrowed wheels with a bottle
filled with mash, the harshest the brewers in the canyon

ever dredged up, and he took this girl and this whiskey
and drove past the shift boss’s house, past the railroad
where the vagabonds wait to jump the next train,

past all those row houses along the farms near the back side
of town, where the old church judges all, and he took this girl
up the canyon to the bluff overlooking the city

and Jose leaned in real close while the tubers sped by,
telling me that the McGregor girl smelled like sampaguitas,
that her eyes could break men’s knees the way a mallet

strikes a spike, and that she was “familiar” with men, whiskey
and other worldly pursuits, and I wanted it to be
true as the potatoes in the factory were true, as the noise

crackling through our ears was real, and I wanted
the McGregor girl to be all freckle and corporeal
like my hands, reddened by the speed of work—I wanted

to believe that a few hours of rest could be spent
driving nowhere with a girl and a bottle, and how some roads
open into vistas and some roads lead the hell out of here,

that you could see the half-mile over the shacks in the valley,
standing next to a beauty who’s crazy about you or maybe
crazy about your danger, and that you could crack a smile or

laugh at youth and the shift boss’s stupid dog
somewhere away from the ball-bearing noise on a dusty,
wheat-colored road as far away as the truth.

***

I had a hard time chopping out prepositions. Making the poem one sentence was tough!

Monday, August 28, 2006

Painting Again

Yes, I've been painting again. We finally took on the ceiling of our den. So far we've painted half of the ceiling. We'll conquer the other half tomorrow. Ceilings are no fun to paint. Period.

***

Has your summer been a productive one? The jury's still out on mine, since I'm still on summer vacation until the 27th of September, though technically I start doing school work much earlier.

It's hard for me to measure what's productive for me nowadays. In grad school, I remember I was banging out poems weekly. Nowadays, it's taken a lot more prodding to get me to come to the writing desk. August was a productive month, but mainly because I've been forcing myself to write.

I suppose my mantra should be "You can't revise a blank page." I've written lots of stuff this month that definitely needs revision.

***

Rick's writing fabulous stuff about the sentence on his blog. Check it out.

It's made me think about my process with the prose poem vs. my lineated stuff. I tend to write in longer independent clauses with my verse. In my prose poems I mix and match a lot more. In a sense, I'm more economical with my prose poems which may make them a bit more abstract, language-wise.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

House Cleaning

I cleaned up some of the broken links. I've also added a few new blogs to the list. Enjoy!

***

Just finished re-reading BJ's Poeta En San Francisco. It changed quite a bit from the copy I saw in 2005.


***

Why is it that I tend to write narratives with my poems and I'm much more episodic with my prose poems?

***

"Haulin' Ash" came to fix our chimneys today. They were here for several hours. They drilled holes. They left soot-marks in the carpet. They mixed cement. They cussed and spat. They jiggered the mirrors and the thingies.

We now have a fireplace that is "up to code." Who are these mysterious code people? Why do they keep on making me spend money?

Friday, August 25, 2006

On the fly . . .

I've been revising poems. This one started with line breaks which I completely obliterated like the Death Star:




Abaka



As in rope. A filament, thick or frayed.

***

Frame the neck of the lynched. Hold—bare. Hang and snare. Drag lace against pavement. Hear fiber split, the pith of the hemp long since dried. Hear the noose crackle.

***

The staccato of a jump rope’s skit-skit-skit. Shoes up, then down, then up again. O stutter my heart. The fibers spin, touch, and spin again.

Hum and arc.

***

How do you say it? Open your mouth as one receiving water. Then explode, the mouth filled with air, then released. Press your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Exhale.

How do you say it? Open your mouth. Pull the breath by each syllable.

***

I am a decadent boat. That I should succumb to you, wavelet, I fear. Tie me to the dock. Tether me.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Feeling My Age

Here's a news article my buddy, Joseph L. forwarded. Zounds. . .



Beloit College's Mindset List
By The Associated Press Wed Aug 23, 12:27 AM ET
Every year, Beloit College releases its Mindset List to give a snapshot of the world view of the incoming freshmen class. The list for the Class of 2010:


1. The Soviet Union has never existed and therefore is about as scary as the student union.

2. They have known only two presidents.

3. For most of their lives, major U.S. airlines have been bankrupt.

4. Manuel Noriega has always been in jail in the U.S.

5. They have grown up getting lost in giant retail stores known as "big boxes."

6. There has always been one Germany.

7. They have never heard anyone actually "ring it up" on a cash register.

8. They are wireless, yet always connected.

9. A stained blue dress is as famous to their generation as a third-rate burglary was to their parents'.

10. Thanks to pervasive head phones in the back seat, parents have always been able to speak freely in the front.

11. A coffee has always taken longer to make than a milkshake.

12. Smoking has never been permitted on U.S. airlines.

13. Faux fur has always been a necessary element of style.

14. The Moral Majority has never needed an organization.

15. They have never had to distinguish between the St. Louis Cardinals baseball and football teams.

16. DNA fingerprinting has always been admissible evidence in court.

17. They grew up pushing their own miniature shopping carts in the supermarket.

18. They grew up with and have outgrown faxing as a means of communication.

19. "Google" has always been a verb.

20. Text messaging is their e-mail.

21. Milli Vanilli has never had anything to say.

22. Mr. Rogers, not Walter Cronkite, has always been the most trusted man in America.

23. Bar codes have always been on everything, from library cards and snail mail to retail items.

24. Madden has always been a game, not a Super Bowl-winning coach.

25. Phantom of the Opera has always been on Broadway.

26. "Boogers" candy has always been a favorite for grossing out parents.

27. There has never been a "sky hook" in the NBA.

28. Carbon copies are oddities found in their grandparents' attics.

29. Computerized player pianos have always been tinkling in the lobby.

30. Non-denominational mega-churches have always been the fastest growing religious organizations in the U.S.

31. They grew up in minivans.

32. Reality shows have always been on television.

33. They have no idea why we needed to ask "... Can we all get along?"

34. They have always known that "In the criminal justice system the people have been represented by two separate yet equally important groups."

35. Young women's fashions have never been concerned with where the waist is.

36. They have rarely mailed anything using a stamp.

37. Brides have always worn white for a first, second, or third wedding.

38. Being techno-savvy has always been inversely proportional to age.

39. "So" as in "Sooooo New York," has always been a drawn-out adjective modifying a proper noun, which in turn modifies something else.

40. Affluent troubled teens in Southern California have always been the subjects of television series.

41. They have always been able to watch wars and revolutions live on television.

42. Ken Burns has always been producing very long documentaries on PBS.

43. They are not aware that "flock of seagulls hair" has nothing to do with birds flying into it.

44. Retin-A has always made America look less wrinkled.

45. Green tea has always been marketed for health purposes.

46. Public school officials have always had the right to censor school newspapers.

47. Small, white holiday lights have always been in style.

48. Most of them have never had the chance to eat bad airline food.

49. They have always been searching for "Waldo."

50. The really rich have regularly expressed exuberance with outlandish birthday parties.

51. Michael Moore has always been showing up uninvited.

52. They never played the game of state license plates in the car.

53. They have always preferred going out in groups as opposed to dating.

54. There have always been live organ donors.

55. They have always had access to their own credit cards.

56. They have never put their money in a "Savings & Loan."

57. Sara Lee has always made underwear.

58. Bad behavior has always been getting captured on amateur videos.

59. Disneyland has always been in Europe and Asia.

60. They never saw Bernard Shaw on CNN.

61. Beach volleyball has always been a recognized sport.

62. Acura, Lexus and Infiniti have always been luxury cars of choice.

63. Television stations have never concluded the broadcast day with the national anthem.

64. LoJack transmitters have always been finding lost cars.

65. Diane Sawyer has always been live in Prime Time.

66. Dolphin-free canned tuna has always been on sale.

67. Disposable contact lenses have always been available.

68. "Outing" has always been a threat.

69. "Oh, The Places You'll Go" by Dr. Seuss has always been the perfect graduation gift.

70. They have always "dissed" what they don't like.

71. The U.S. has always been studying global warming to confirm its existence.

72. Richard M. Daley has always been the Mayor of Chicago.

73. They grew up with virtual pets to feed, water, and play games with, lest they die.

74. Ringo Starr has always been clean and sober.

75. Professional athletes have always competed in the Olympics.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The Empire of the Dandelion

Our lawn has been overrun. Their imperial helmets jut out all over the yard. It's been two weeks since I've mowed. If we hadn't had that very brief rainfall, I could've lasted a third week. Alas. :-(

To be clear, though, the majority of the lawn is moss and broad-leafed weeds. I'm going to have to kill the lawn and re-seed everything later. It's a total bummer.

***

I have a card for a Bikram Yoga center. I've never taken a yoga class, so Bikram Yoga is probably out. I can't imagine attempting 26 postures (I only know one or two) in a super-heated room.

***

Deadlines this week:

5 prose poems, 3 regular poems, a revised manuscript for contests. Additionally, a new syllabus for Introduction to Poetry and some changes to my Asian American Literature course.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Dear Machine

I've loved you by accident.

There are happenstances and there are happenstances.

Once, there was a sea and it saddened me with its shells and its starfish.

The starfish were tiny hands, each a gradual transition into empty.

Empty story. Empty galaxy. The sand torn away by the tide.

Then, like a piston, the hard teeth of you.


If I were a vestibule I would remain silent. I would let you in. I would ajar.

Meanwhile the sand grit hushes the floorboards even though

I am a hallway. I am the gasp of a match on a heel.


Dear silica, shine on. Grind the oak to powder.

Buff the skin, the last erotic fever

And be the buzz of the engine, gassed up on rocket fuel.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Freakin' Hot

It's still quite hot in Eastern Oregon. Yesterday, we were sitting on the patio in 90 degree weather. Why, I don't know. It seems it would make a bit more sense if we chose a cooler place to sit and read.

***

We basically bummed around the house all day yesterday. I didn't feel inspired to drive to Boise, ID. I mean, after ten hours in a car, the last thing I want to do is spend an hour driving to watch a movie. Besides, as I mentioned it was quite hot yesterday and there's not going to be any let up.

***

I've been watching a lot of "Homeowner Porn" lately. HGTV is either on the screen or it's the show that's queued up on my recall button for the remote.

***

There are cowboys out here with big hats, big belt buckles, and hay-scented cologne. I've seen them. They walk up and down my street in their tight Wranglers. They water their horses at my hoses. They talk in honky-tonk. They lie to me. They sit in the dirt and watch the sunset with their pointy boots before them.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Headin' Out

. . . to see the parents tomorrow. I'll be on much more sporadically until Sunday.

They still live in Ontario, OR. Yes, Oregon. Not Canada. Not California.

Anyway, Mere and I will be heading to the land of the Chukars. We may stop off at Burger West or Brewsky's Broiler for some famous Ontario, OR, pink sauce for fries.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Canadian Radio

We don't get NPR up here, but we do get 93.1FM.

Punjabi radio at its finest. We listen to this station all the time and it comes in quite clearly, unlike most of the American stations.

In fact, many of our radio selections are in French as part of the CBC radio networks.

Forestry Day

I did more forestry work today, cutting up a felled Douglas Fir and clearing some bramble for a set of trails Meredith and I are working on. We could hear an owl somewhere in the wilderness. It was quite cool. As for the trails, they're coming along. We've managed to link two trails together. They just need to be raked back. We ran into a bit of a snag, since the newer trail skirts the edge of our property. That edge goes up a steep incline and it'll be tough clearing a walkable path. There's a set of trails above the incline, but they're a ways off, and there's some serious debris/bramble in the way. I expect lots of thicket.

We spent a good deal of time moving the cut sections on to our cement basketball court to let 'em dry in the sun. We were a bit fried, so we went out for Thai food.

***

The bird feeders are getting savagely attacked by the Stellar's Jays. We've seen other birdies, though. This morning a Chimney Swift had made it's way from our chimney to our sliding glass door. I helped it back outdoors.

We've also seen Pileated Woodpeckers jumping from a dead tree. There are other woodpeckers, though . . . we had a Hairy Woodpecker climbing up our elderberry tree. That elderberry tree has been attracting a bunch of Western tanager and Evening grosbeaks. I thought the grosbeaks looked at parrots at first.

Anyway, things are getting interesting, bird-wise around here.

***

Currently listening to The Dirty Three

***

Thicket is my new favorite word. Thicket, thicket, thicket.


***

Conversation re: chainsaw:


John: Yer gettin' powdery bits now.

Oliver: Huh?

John: Powdery bits. Yer chain's strugglin' a bit.

Oliver: Is that what that smoke's all about?

John: Ya.

Oliver: Oh.

John: 'shouldn't cut them logs that close to the ground.

Oliver: Oh.

John: Ya. 'cause there's rocks or somethin' down there and it'll dull yer chain right up.

Oliver: Oh.

John: (singing) "tea, no thanks I'll have a beer"

Oliver: What's that you're singing?

John: Oh, it's somethin' from the Simpsons. Ya'know the episode where Homer's singing to "Do-re-mi?"

Oliver: No.

John: Ol' buddy o'mine, when we went on our raftin' trip was humming it.

Oliver: Oh.

John: So now you've got a dose of yer pop culture for today!

Monday, August 14, 2006

I have an attraction . . .

. . . to messy poems. This is a recent thing, and by recent I mean two or three years. Akin to an obsession with Sodoku, I call it my Rube-Goldberg sensibility. Remember playing Mousetrap? I wanted that game for the longest time, and yet I never ever really played the thing. There's something about poets who can reconcile disparate images . . . I really admire that ability.

Anyway, years ago, I was a science major. I think my scientific brain tickles my poetic sensibilities at times.

***

Assignment:

Write a poem with the following items:

1. A freezer car on a train.

2. Use a lyric by Marvin Gaye

3. There must be the plumage of a bird somewhere in the poem

4. There must be a flashback to a foreign city.

***

Still uploading songs to iTunes. I'm at 6794 songs, 18.8 days worth of music.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Oh my iPod . . .

Currently updating the songs in my library . . .

I've got 6714 items listed in iTunes and I'm all over the map. I've got some Portishead, some Vic Chestnut, some Lyle Lovett, some Yo Yo Ma . . . some Dirty Three, some OMD, some PJ Harvey, some My Morning Jacket, some Seu Jorge . . .

And the thing is, I really only listen to my iPod when I'm working out or on long road trips. I do, however, listen to iTunes quite frequently, so I suppose my big library makes sense.

I've been playing a lot of Alt-Country lately. I think it has something to do with summer.

***

I'm drifting aimlessly - - the way bad monks think.

A busy weekend

First off, I totally want to go to The Subdued String Stringband Jam. That's taking place this weekend just a few miles from my house.

Secondly, there are a number of cool events taking place in Bellingham and the surrounding area this week.

The music festival's taking place so there's a bunch of musicians popping up in town.

This afternoon we went to La Bella Strada and walked on a chalk drawing entitled "OMG, Fish With Legs!!!" Indeed, the fish did have legs.

***

I had too much pizza this afternoon.

***

All told, I love where I live.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Sore

This past week's activities have caught up with me. I'm sore all over. Of course, after lifting weights, I went on ahead and did forestry projects. I could barely get out of bed this morning.

***

It's surprisingly cold this morning. The dog was shivering. I could hear his teeth chattering in the other room so I put a blanket on him.

***

Been reading manuscripts this morning. I enjoy reading collections in nascent forms. Only trouble is, I hate looking at my own work in the early stages. Revision isn't my favorite thing, but I don't mind making suggestions to other folks. It's very weird. I sent "Furious Lullaby" off to various people to read. Truth be told, I'm sick of revising the thing, but I know there are some holes that need to be patched.

***
One of my former undergraduate students starts her MFA this month and another one of my former grad students starts his MFA. I'm so jealous. I loved being a graduate student. Those lucky ducks.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

The Zen of the Chainsaw

Mind you, I don't like the idea of cutting down trees. In fact, part of the reason we bought the place we did was because it was surrounded by Hemlock, Western Cedar, Douglas Fir, Spruce . . .

A wind storm had blown down several large hemlocks. The trees are about seventy-feet tall, if they were upright. They're basically an eyesore now, cutting across several deer paths. We also need wood for our stove; it gets quite cold up here, so I've been told. Normally, I'd let nature take its course and I'd let the forest floor munch up all that good fertilizer but this time, I decided to cut the trees into 16" chunks.

While using the chainsaw yesterday, I tuned all the extra stuff out. Usually I walk around with a load of verbal baggage in my head, whether it's a new poem, a new project, a to-do list . . . but when you're using a dangerous machine, you really can't be distracted.

With the help of my friend/colleague/neighbor, John, we managed to cut two seventy-foot trees into several chunks that I'll dry over the Summer and chop later for fire wood.

***

Latest obsession:

I've been obsessed with Filipino migrant workers from the 30's to the 50's. There was a lot of labor unionism up in this neck of the woods and I've been fiddling with some poems. The trick--making politics soluable in art.

***

Meredith's friend Matthieu is scheduled to fly in from New York. With all the crap that's taking place with air travel today, I don't expect him to arrive on schedule. Messy messy travel day. . .

***

Another 1:

Write a poem with the following elements--

1. The poem must take place inclement weather.

2. The poem must contain the word, "loomery"

3. The poem must have a steel object.

4. The narrative must go in reverse.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

In case you were wondering

I've stopped posting exercises because . . . I've stopped doing them and found a personal topic sufficient enough to obsess me for some time.

Anyway, if you want an assignment, here's one for the road:


Write a poem that takes place from your current global quadrant (parallel), and follow that parallel using images from places along that line all the way around the globe, ending back at the original starting quadrant.

See Steve Scafidi's poem, The Latitudes of Desire for a hint on this one.

***

By the way, I'm busting out my 20" Poulan Pro chainsaw today. Wish me luck.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Farewell to . . .

Sleater-Kinney. They've officially broken up. I'm sad. :-(

Friday, August 04, 2006

Ekphrastic

Write a poem based on a painting/picture/sculpture that has haunted you for a long time.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Untruth

Write a poem based on a lie, lies, liars, or half-truths.

The poem needs to be one long sentence.

The poem has a minimum line-length of 20.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

#2

Now that you've written Poem #1, place it on a timeline.

Have that poem be the middle point of your timeline.

Assignment #2 requires you to write a poem based on a moment that comes before what took place in Poem #1.

Good luck!

While you weren't looking . . .

Rick Barot and David Dodd Lee snuck in.

Howdy, guys!

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Another

Write a poem with the following elements:

1. A car, which is the subject of the poem
2. An unpredictable "Fall" scent
3. The name of a boy from childhood
4. An agricultural tool
5. A lyric of a song from a past era
6. The color "perse"
7. The number "twelve"


Good luck.

Monday, July 31, 2006

More Trouble with Bird Feeders

So . . . I spread some seed on the ground as David had suggested. However, it seems the deer also like the stuff. I caught two just now eating it all up! I gave 'em a good scare. Hopefully they don't mess with the feeders.

Oh, and I wrote my imitation poem. So far I'm on task.

The Poetry Challenge

Slowly my Summer is slipping away. I just turned in my course descriptions for the Fall and I'm feeling the pressure to get stuff done. So I've given myself a "Poetry Challenge" for the month of August. The "Poetry Challenge" is simple. I need to write a poem or a fraction of a poem each day, and I'm not counting revision.

Writing everyday is something that's hard for me. It's not my normal process, but it's something I often encourage my students to do. I also remember getting fed this message from my teachers/mentors. I remember writing everyday in graduate school, but I had oodles of time back then. So now the circumstances are different . . . a bit more challenging. On top of feeling the pressure to remain gainfully employed (publish or perish!), I have the privilege of being married and also have the privilege of being a new homeowner (I had no idea it was this much work).

For starters, I'm going to write an imitative poem. My poem homage will be based on a poem by Alberto Rios entitled "Rabbits and Fire" from his book, The Smallest Muscle in the Human Body.

Feel free to join in.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Why oh why . . .

don't the birds eat from our bird feeders??!

I mean, we've got the goods! We've got two big big feeders and a bird bath. C'mon now! I know they're out there. They keep flying into our windows.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Behold Summer

For I have eaten cereal at 4:30AM.
For I have not shaved my face for three days.
For I have given myself to leisure and the watching of many hours of Court TV.
For I have punctuated a bird feeder with Hosta.
For I have hacked a felled Western Cedar in two with an axe.
For I have kissed the neighbor's puppy, Sophia.
For I have planted zinnias and astra.
For I have handled mice poison and lived.
For I have exercised my dog on someone else's property
only to clean up after him (since I am a good neighbor).
For I have gone to my new post office multiple times with change-of-address forms.
For I have made the post master repent.
For I have joined a new gym and have yet to see "the new you."
For I have been approached by a former student at Home Depot
and asked to write a poem.
For I have read poetry well into the morning.
For I have triumphed over the grasses with my weeder.
For I have mowed two acreas of lawn in two hours.
For I have painted for seven days straight and have survived sciatica.
For I will lay on tennis balls to press against my lower back.
For Jake will seize the tennis balls and bury them in the yard.
For I have seen the holes in the yard and have made amends.
For I have surveyed the check book and am full of woe.
For I have eaten cereal for dinner.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

It comes back eventually . . .

The poetry bug, that is. It's bitten me. I've been working on poems all morning and I'm excited about the thing I'm working on now. Yes, the poems will need to be revised, but for now I have a stronger sense of scope, scale, density. What's helped is the fact that some of the house chores have slowed down.

Rick Barot asked me in June whether I was planning on revisiting some of the characters in Names Above Houses. For several years, my answer had been no, but recently I had been thinking about returning to my Tiresias-like character, Manong Jose. I looked at childhood in that book and he wondered whether I was going to explore adolescence. I told him that I would, but as I've been writing, I'm seeing something else . . . It's funny how my mind revises all my best laid plans. Still, Manong Jose may pop up. There just hasn't been a situation for him yet. I do know that if he were to creep back in, he wouldn't be called "Manong." How's that for a hint?

The other question that came up is whether or not I plan on returning to the prose-poem form. To tell you the truth, it's hard to get out of writing that form once you start, and I think revisiting the form may prove hazardous to my lineation. I spent six years un-writing prose poems with Furious Lullaby.

Time will tell.

Poetry kept me up last night

Woke up around 4AM this morning after having gone to bed at midnight. I've been thinking about this new manuscript a lot and I think I happened upon a better point of entry. I enjoyed writing the abecedarian pieces, but I never felt like there was anything at stake in them. I may come back to them later, but for now I've got something on my brain. So, I wandered around the house a bit at 4AM, not putting pen to paper, just thinking.

Strangely, I've been listening to the Smithsonian Folkways American Music collection and I came up with some ideas.

. . .

Know anything about Murder Ballads?

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

discipline

They say that children who take up an instrument at a young age are taught discipline. I had piano lessons when I was a young boy and I quit in the sixth grade. I never practiced. Never.

So here I am blogging instead of writing poems. To be frank, at the moment I'd rather weed a whole forest than write right now. I'm trying, though. So far, twoish poems, both of which are not very good. My editor brain needs to shut up.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Creature Comforts

I have joined a gym. I have been the member of a gym since grad-school. For the past month and a half, I haven't had a chance to workout, but now I'm back at it. I'm sore as hell. I started going on Friday. I couldn't walk on Saturday. Really. I couldn't walk. I'm in pain as I write this.

There's something calming about being in a gym. Folks wonder why I don't go to the gym at school, but I don't feel . . . safe at a school gym. I remember when I was teaching at ASU and I was using the gym there, I had one of my students walk up to me while I was running on a treadmill and ask me about an assignment. There's nothing more unnerving that not being able to separate work from life.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . .

I haven't continued my alphabetical musings yet. I've been a wee bit distracted. I hope to continue this week. If you haven't guessed, I'm back from Atlanta. It's good to be home.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Still in Georgia . . .

We're still in Georgia, but we're heading back to Maple Falls tomorrow. Anyway, some of you have been asking about the decorating we've been doing to our house back in Washington. While I'm hooked up to a high-speed pipe, I'll post as many photos as I can.

Meredith's Office/Guest Bedroom


Meredith's Office/Guest Bedroom
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
This is Meredith's office which is also a guest bedroom.

Guest Bedroom


Guest Bedroom
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Right now we have bunk beds in the room to save some space. My old computer desk is to the bottom left. We'll probably get rid of that desk and change the bunk bed to two twin beds.

TV Room


TV Room
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
The room's a bit of a mess, so apologies.

The "WHATEVAH" Room


The "WHATEVAH" Room
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
We haven't figured out what to do with this space. The sliding glass door leads to our grill. Hanging from the window is a piece of art by Carolynne Whitefeather and on the table is a statuette that Meredith bought.

Dining Room


Dining Room
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
We need a few more chairs, but this is our current dining room and dining room table.

Refurbished Wet Bar


Refurbished Wet Bar
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Meredith tore down the accordian doors that used to be to the right side of the bar. We plan on painting over the mirrors to the left of the bar. They're kind of cheesy-looking . . . gold frosted and whatnot.

Painted Kitchen


Painted Kitchen
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
The cabinet doors used to have formica sheets on the front. Meredith and I peeled those off, removed the adhesive with a solvent, scrubbed off the residue, and painted each individual cabinet door with multiple coats of primer and paint.

Painted Den


Painted Den
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
The den took us three coats of primer and one coat of flat latex paint to cover. We left the ceilings as they were.

Office


Office
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
We've been painting. My mother painted this room. She did a great job, didn't she?

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

South Carolina

It's hot here. Meredith, myself, and Meredith's mother are visiting Meredith's Grandma who's 99 years old. She's got quite a memory. Anyway, there's not much to report. I'm just stopping in to say hello.

Hello.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

It's hard . . .

. . . to enjoy a bad movie, especially when a mob of teens are heckling throughout the whole movie and especially when they're throwing trash. This was the case at our viewing of Nacho Libre. I can't recommend this movie, though I had hopes because it was directed by the same guy who directed Napoleon Dynamite.

Other than that, I just finished reading Fast Food Nation. I am fully grossed out now.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Here in Atlanta

So far, we've eaten out almost every night. I'm kinda burned out on yuppie food, but . . . what are you going to do? (Truth is, Meredith's mother's not home and no one else feels like cooking). Meredith's sis came yesterday and we've been watching a lot of satellite TV. Currently, I'm blogging while Mere watches Dr. Phil. The theme: Spousal Ultimatums.

Reading Eric Gansworth's poetry collection at the moment, "Nickle Eclipse/Iroquois Moon." I've been assigned the task of writing a critique/review of his work. If you ask me, he's a writer who definitely needs recognition. Not only that, he's a great guy who's got great taste in music.

Monday, July 03, 2006

So far in my abcedarian jottings . . .

I've got Abaca, Aswang, Balisong, Balita, Kabila, Kutsilyo, and Kuya . . .

Aside from having the poems linked alphabetically in Tagalog, I don't have any narrative threads fleshed out. They're still very raw, which is okay. It's sort of hard coming back to the writing desk after a bit of a hiatus.

In other news, Meredith and I will be hitting the road. We're heading to HOTlanta to visit her folks. While we're there, hopefully we'll bump into her sis. Maybe I can get her to make me a belt buckle to go with my cowboy boots.

I've got a few things I want to check out while I'm in Atlanta. Last time I was there, I had some food from The Varsity. Yum yum! Intestinal grenades are tasty.

We also saw the World of Coca-Cola and Underground Atlanta. I never did get to sample the Coca-Cola flavors . . . maybe I'll do that this time.

Anyway, if anyone's in the ATL, give me a holler! I'll be checking e-mails etc. while I'm on the road.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Done Den

Three coats of primer and one coat of flat "Anthem White" paint did the trick. The dark wood paneling is now white, giving the den the feel of a beach house. Now we're trying to figure out a color palate.

Now that the painting's done, I can rest my aching back a bit before I take off for Atlanta. I've been re-reading Arthur Sze's "Quipo" for color inspiration. Lots of golds, yellows, reds in that book . . . trouble is, those colors are already in the bedroom.

Boy, I've got too much time on my hands . . . HGTV is my friend.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Painting in Progress

I've been painting for roughly seven days now. My back's killing me. I think I've got sciatica. Sometimes my feet are numb, like they're asleep. I've pretty much been on my feet during all this.

We decided that our kitchen was far too dark. The previous owner had a fondness for yellow . . . only, in the kitchen, it with yellowish tile, the yellow on the walls looked sickly. So, we repainted the walls with a high gloss white called "Anthem White." We also had to take down all the cabinet doors. They had this sickly yellowish cream formica on them. Meredith and I peeled off all the formica which left behind a sticky film of glue on each oof the cabinet doors. I ruined four doors trying to pry the formica coverings off, so I basically had to make four new cabinet doors (yay circular saw and sander). Meredith and I then spent a whole afternoon wiping the cabinet fronts down with a solvent to remove the adhesives. I then had to wash off the cabinet doors and sand each one with a hand sander. We then primed and painted the doors. It took us five coats of high-gloss paint to get those suckers the shade of white we wanted. I think my first mistake was buying the discount primer ($19.00 vs. $79.00). Basically, touching up the kitchen took three days.

Now we're on the den. I'm not sure if you've seen the earlier photos on this blog, but refer to the fireplace pictures. The den's a little dark because the whole room's got this dated wood panelling. Meredith and I have spent the past two days priming the panelling. This time, we bought a better primer. Anyway, I predict the den will look much more open. In its former state, it was much to dark and enclosed. I'll post pictures when I can.

Also, sorry I've not been great with the e-mails or with blogging. Again, we're on dial-up here and since I've been in work mode, it's been difficult to get online. I'll be heading for Atlanta to visit Meredith's folks in a couple of weeks. I should be able to post a few more times on the blog before I split, but until then, ciao!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Home Sweet Home

I'm finally feeling settled in the new house. For the past couple of weeks, Meredith and I have been combing through the inspection report and have been checking off some "need to do" items. We also fixed up the landscaping at the front of our house. I've been travelling back and forth from Bellingham to our house trucking many bags of bark. It seems that the previous owners of the house were not invested in landscaping. To be sure, Meredith and I spent several hours pulling out carpets of weed (she did most of the pulling, I trucked the junk into the forest). We filled the new beds with about sixty cubic feet of bark. It now smells like cedar outside our house.

Additionally, I mowed about an acre of lawn. I'm not exaggerating about the size of the lawn . . . it's big and it had gotten out of hand before I started my mowing ritual. Trouble is, the push mower is starting to show wear and tear. Every time I turn a corner, something rattles. It kind of sounds like a jar of marbles being shook.

We also planted many flowers in flower baskets and flower pots on our deck. We went the cheap route and purchased seed packets: marigolds, etc.. I'm waiting for the first seedlings to pop up since the job of seed-planting was mine.

I also bought a set of cordless power tools. Nothing says "Homeowner" like a cordless circular saw. We've put them to good use. The first project for the new tools was to reassemble the shelves in the kitchen pantry. For some reason, the previous homeowners liked having slanted shelves in the pantry that were only good for holding bottles of wine. Now imagine a whole 3x3x5 pantry with mini wine cubicles. Meanwhile, in the other room, there's a functional wet bar. . . I mean, come now. So Meredith jig-sawed all the shelving out of the space and I re-sized all the shelves with the circular saw, since the shelves didn't fit straight-on (as I said, the shelves were slanted). I installed a four sets of shelving brackets with my new cordless drill. Voila. Functional cabinetry.

Lastly, I've found time to write again. I've been obsessed with this Tagalog Dictionary edited by Teresita V. Ramos. Also, Manong Jose has come by to haunt me again. . . I'm such a tease.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

I have moved. Some observations . . .

1. It's really dark in the country.
2. I wake up very early now. 4:30AM this morning . . . and I wasn't tired.
3. Having no high-speed internet sucks, but I'm getting used to it. It's a good way to quit playing online video games, that's for sure.
4. Meredith and I have a lot of stuff. Where did it all come from? Does it spawn?
5. Jake has become his own dog. He inhabits a whole other sphere of existence, leaving the homestead for hours, and then returning soaked, hungry, and tired.

Anyway, I'll be down in Seattle this weekend for a reading. The information is here.

Monday, May 22, 2006

Manhattan Borough President
Scott M. Stringer

Invites you to celebrate

ASIAN PACIFIC AMERICAN HERITAGE MONTH

Co-sponsored by
Asian American Arts Alliance
and
Kundiman

Featuring poetry, music
performances by:

Ishle Yi Park l Patrick Rosal
Ma-yi Theatre Company
Trio Tarana l Vongku Pak

Hosted by:
Vivian Lee
Reporter, WNBC NewsChannel 4

Reception will follow

New York County Surrogate's Court
31 Chambers Street
Tuesday, May 23, 2006, 6 pm - 9 pm

RSVP to (212) 669-4374 or rsvp@manhattanbp.org

Friday, May 19, 2006

First Homeowner Injury

Mallet + Mailbox Pole + Small Wooden Block + Thumb . . .

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

RIP Stanley Kunitz

Link

Waiting for the paint to dry

The office has been painted a bright shade of yellow. I need to find curtains that are more suitable for the tones in that room. There's a wall that's covered with wood panels, so I need a mix of the yellow and the brown somehow. Anyway, we got most of our bookshelves moved into the house. We also moved a ton of book boxes. There aren't really any books left in the rental, save those I'm using for classes.

We also painted the masters bedroom a dark shade of red . . . at least it was dark after I had painted it on Saturday. We'll see what color it REALLY is.

Poetry? Who has time for poetry when there's another coat to paint!

Monday, May 08, 2006

Slowly Slowly

We've been moving things into the new house. Last week I visited the new place three times: Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday. I almost went on Sunday, but I had weird flu-like symptoms and Meredith urged me not to go. I predict I'll be up at the new place three more times this week. Crazy, huh? I'm not sure if this system of gradual moving is better than all at once at this point.

In other news, there are four more weeks in my quarter . . .

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

The View from our Bedroom


The View from our Bedroom
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
This is a picture taken from the sliding glass door in the master's bedroom.

Living Room Window


Living Room Window
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
What we see out the windows of our living room. That poor tropical plant was also left behind.

That 70's Show


That 70's Show
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Meredith mugging for the camera with the groovy 70's-style curtains left behind.

Deck


Deck
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
The deck with a shot of Jake's hind-quarters.

Wet Bar


Wet Bar
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Yes, the house has a wet bar.

Fireplace


Fireplace
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
Dig our new fireplace? You'll note all the wood panelling. It's actually not so bad since they're installed at angles rather than straight up and down.

Monday, May 01, 2006

My name . . .

. . . is Oliver. I own a home.

Monday, April 24, 2006

What's there to tell?

So, let's see. Meredith and I are closing on the lovely house you see pictured two postings below. We should be able to finish up all business this week.

A couple of my students have been admitted into MFA programs, so I'm very happy for them.

It's finally sunny here in Washington, and it looks to be sunny for much of the week.

I'm currently starting the fifth week of the Spring Quarter, but my brain's still semestral, so this has been an agonizingly slow April.

Mary Kenagy introduced me to KEXP 90.3 and I love it, though I barely get any reception in my car.

I'm rereading America is in the Heart for the Asian American Literature class I'm currently teaching. We just finished The Woman Warrior.

This coming Memorial Day, Meredith and I will be vacationing in Vancouver, BC.

I'm reading M.A. thesi . . . thesuses . . . the . . . multiple manuscripts written by graduate students.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

The house


Wider Angle
Originally uploaded by odelapaz.
We put a bid in for this house. Our bid was accepted. We are freaking out. That is all.

Monday, April 03, 2006

The cold that wouldn't die.

I think I've been sick since I got home from AWP in Austin. One of you gave me this cold. I don't know who you are, but I might have passed you at the bookfair or perhaps I sat next to you at a panel or a reading. Perhaps we touched arms as we inched our way past each other. Or perhaps you reached out from behind your table and shook my hand, gave me a sucker, a pen, a folder, a goo gah smothered in your streptococcus. Or maybe it was you whom I passed on the way to Sixth Street and the local honky tonk bar. Maybe it was you who signed my book, passing from your hand-writing, the catalyst for some remnant bug nestled in my nose. Could it have been you who bought me the drink in the Hilton Hotel Bar? Or you who handed me the cash to tip the cabby?

Friday, March 31, 2006

Where I'm At

So Meredith and I are looking at houses on Saturday. I'm excited and terrified. We met with a realtor and a mortgage broker yestreday. We had so many numbers thrown at us. Meredith, at one point, nudged me under the table because my eyes were glazing over. . .

1st Mortgage? 2nd Mortgage? Escrow? Huh?

In other news, the new quarter started at Western Washington and I'm very very excited. It's also almost April which means it's almost summer. Yay summer!

Monday, March 13, 2006

AWP Afterglow

I'm so tired. I think the heat contributed to my fatigue but there was also such a rush of good feeling during those four days in Austin.

Anyway, if I didn't get a chance to say goodbye (or hello) for that matter, "Goodbye and Hello." I can't believe how many five-minute conversations I had. I wish the week had been longer but I also know that if it were any longer I'd be deathly ill.

In the end, I had a great time, had some fantastic food, spent moments with old friends, and drank in some wonderful poetry. See you all in Atlanta.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Restraint

I want to buy books at AWP but I need to put a collar on my wallet. It's so hard to show restraint, too. You walk up and down the bookfaire aisles and sitting at the tables are poets showing their wares.

I remember one year at AWP, I actually packed a separate bag in order to carry all the new AWP books I figured I'd be bringing home. Sure enough, the bag got filled.

The worst/best day is when all the journals are reducing their rates or giving away their copies so that they don't have to travel with the weight. It's REALLY hard to restrain myself on those days.

So, I've got to come up with a list of "MUST HAVES" before going. Got your eyes on something you'd like to share?

R142H. Kundiman: Love Songs of Asian American Poets

(Marilyn Chin, Patrick Rosal, Purvi Shah, Mary Chi-Whi Kim, Marlon Esguerra, Sarah Gambito, and Oliver de la Paz)

Kundiman is a nonprofit literary organization dedicated to serving Asian American poets. At the heart of our offerings is the national emerging Asian-American poets' writing and mentorship retreat at the University of Virginia. Retreat participants--faculty, students, and other Kundiman affiliates for a reading to celebrate the organization and reach a broader audience. The event will serve as our national debut.

Monday, February 27, 2006

HURRY!!!

Kundiman Asian American Poetry Retreat
June 21 – 25, 2006
Deadline: Postmark March 1, 2006

In order to help mentor the next generation of Asian-American poets,
Kundiman is sponsoring an annual Poetry Retreat at The University of
Virginia. During the Retreat, nationally renowned Asian American poets
will conduct workshops and provide one-on-one mentorship sessions with
participants. Readings and informal social gatherings will also be
scheduled. Through this Retreat, Kundiman hopes to provide a safe and
instructive environment that identifies and addresses the unique
challenges faced by emerging Asian American poets. This 5-day Retreat
will take place from Wednesday to Sunday. Workshops will be conducted from
Thursday to Saturday. Workshops will not exceed six students.

Faculty

Arthur Sze is a second-generation Chinese American. Educated at the
University of California, Berkeley, Sze is the author of five volumes
of poetry, including most recently The Redshifting Web: Poems 1970-1998
(Copper Canyon Press, 1998), a finalist for the 1999 Lenore Marshall
Poetry Prize. His poems have also appeared in numerous magazines,
including American Poetry Review, The Paris Review, Mother Jones,
Conjunctions, and The Bloomsbury Review. Translations of Sze’s work
have been published in Italy and China. The recipient of a Lannan Literary
Award for Poetry, three Witter Bynner Foundation Poetry Fellowships,
and two Creative Writing Fellowships from the National Endowment for the
Arts, Sze currently directs the Creative Writing Program at the Institute for
American Indian Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where he has taught for
more than a decade.

Kazim Ali is the author of The Far Mosque (Alice James Books). His
poems and essays have appeared in such journals as The Iowa Review, Colorado
Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review and Catamaran, and in the anthologies
Writing the Lines of Our Hands and Risen From the East. A graduate of
the Creative Writing Program at New York University, he is the author of a
novel, Quinn’s Passage. He is the publisher of Nightboat Books and
assistant professor of English at Shippensburg University.

Jennifer Chang holds degrees from the University of Chicago and the
University of Virginia. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in
Barrow Street, Gulf Coast, New England Review, Pleiades, Virginia
Quarterly Review, Asian American Poetry: The Next Generation, Best New
Poets 2005, and other publications. The title poem of her manuscript
The History of Anonymity received the 2004 Campbell Corner Poetry prize.
She is the 2005 Van Lier Fellow in Poetry at the Asian American Writers’
Workshop and was awarded the Louis Untermeyer scholarship to the 2005
Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference. She teaches in the creative writing
program at Rutgers University.

Jon Pineda is the author of Birthmark (Southern Illinois University
Press, 2004), winner of the Crab Orchard Award Series in Poetry Open
Competition. A recipient of a Virginia Commission for the Arts Individual Artist
Fellowship, he is a graduate of James Madison University and of the MFA
program in creative writing at Virginia Commonwealth University, where
he received an AWP Intro Award for Poetry. His recent work has appeared in
Prairie Schooner, Sou’wester and various anthologies.

Fees & Financial Aid

Requests for financial aid should be made after acceptance to the
retreat. As Kundiman is a new non-profit, there is a very limited amount of
financial aid available. Awards will be given on a need-based basis.
Average award amount is $100. To keep the cost of the retreat low for
all participants, fees are not charged for workshops or programming. Room
and Board for the retreat is $300.

Application Process

Send five to seven (5-7) paginated, stapled pages of poetry, with your
name included on each page. Include a cover letter with your name,
address, phone number, e-mail address and a brief paragraph describing
what you would like to accomplish at the Kundiman Asian American Poets’
Retreat. Include a SAS postcard if you want an application receipt.
Manuscripts will not be returned. No electronic submissions, please.

Mail application to:

Kundiman
245 Eighth Avenue #151
New York, NY 10011

Submissions must be postmarked by March 1, 2006

Thursday, February 23, 2006

So . . .

Who's going to AWP? My department money came through. I'll see you there!

Tax Time is upon us again!

Remember, writers, there are a number of things you can declare as tax write-offs.

1. Paper
2. Books . . . and the shelves you recently purchased to hold those books.
3. Computer materials
4. Writing utensils
5. All travel for readings . . .
6. Postage
7. Photocopying expenses
8. Research materials

Anyway, you get the idea. Meredith sat down with our accountant yesterday and got us a modest refund. Happy number crunching, folks!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Snow Day, Valentines Day

I was surprised when I saw the ground covered in snow after fifty-some days of rain. I'm more surprised by my reaction . . . I was happy for the snow.

Anyway, I was thinking of bad gifts you could get your beloved (Don't worry, Meredith. I didn't get any of these things for you). These are in no particular order:


Vacuum
Cocktail Peanuts
A can of compressed air (for cleaning your computer keyboards)
Hair removal products
Anything having to do with cleaning--sponges, laundry soap, moist towelettes

Friday, February 03, 2006

Friday, Friday, Non-Sequitor

Just polished off a bizarre Thai-Chicken Noodle Salad. I have concerns.

Also, I'm noticing how disorganized my office books are, and it worries me. I can't have that. I'm usually quite organized, but the upheaval from the East Coast to the West Coast has challenged my organization skills. Outside of that . . . interesting things to talk about:

1) I'm going to AWP.

2) I should be getting money from my department.

3) I need to iron.

The later bit concerns me the most. As you can see, I'm full of concern these days. I'm concerned about the weather. I'm concerned about what to cook for dinner tonight. I'm concerned about the state of the world. I'm concerned about my students. I'm concerned about my social life (or lack of a social life). I'm concerned about my ironing. Meredith tells me that the slightly crinkled look is in and I have my doubts.

We have lots of chocolate in our house as well as a lot of bizarre German cookies.

My dad got me a massive hunting knife for my birthday (which isn't for another few weeks). His enclosed letter had lots of American flags on it.

I'm concerned about my family.

Big News

Dear friend and Kundiman co-guru, Joseph O. Legaspi's book, IMAGO, has been accepted for publication!


Huzzah!

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

And now you're cooking . . .

Blissfully productive day today. I think the first full day of sunshine in weeks helped my energy levels. I woke up at 6AM and then started on some household cleaning. The guys from Macy's came with a new dresser and I had moved furniture around the house to accommodate the new piece. Then I had to move all the furniture back. I did the laundry, washed the dishes, vacuumed (the furniture guys had very dirty shoes), took care of the dog (Jake's sick), and then settled in to some grading. I even had time to take Jake to the park and go to the gym for two hours.

Currently, I'm battling a new batch of student poems. They don't title their stuff and it bugs me for some reason.

Friday, January 20, 2006

The flowers on my desk are fake.

Yes. Fake. They're actually Meredith's flowers from our shared office in Utica. The fourth person this year walked by my office and admired my flowers. I always feel compelled to tell people they're not real. I just feel like I need to establish that contract between the viewer and the thing they're viewing. They're always shocked and inevitably, they wind up saying, "Well, they're beautiful anyway."

When I was twelve years old, the Malheur County Fair rolled through Ontario, right around early August. Naturally it was the thing to go see in a town with one bowling alley, a roller skating rink, a decaying mall, and one McDonalds franchise on the outskirts. Among all the midway games like the coin toss and the ring-on-the-bottle, was the freak tent. Really, no joking. The freak tent. Anyway, it was a quarter admission to get into the freak tent and for the day, the "Freak of the Week" was the snake girl. So my friends and I ponied up the quarters we would otherwise have spent on playing space invaders and entered the tent.

At the center of the tent was a raised, square platform. At each of the sides of the plantform were small wooden stairs. Solid wooden doors nailed together and on their sides rose up from the center of the platform, concealing the view of those who were in line, waiting to see the snake girl. The carnie in charge of the tent was quite aggressive about having only four people surrounding the stage. He smelled like a campfire and one of his boots had a hole at the ankle. He was losing his hair and part of what remained, he brushed over to the side in a slender, greasy comma.

When it was my turn to see the snake girl, I walked up the stairs and peered over the edge of the upright doors. At the center of the arena was sawdust. . . plenty of sawdust pilled up into a mound at the center. From the center of the mound, coiled the green body of a snake, maybe a boa constricter. However, from the center of that mound of sawdust, you could see the blinking eyes, hair, and forehead of a 20ish woman. The disturbing part of this was that her mouth was concealed by both the sawdust and the coil of the snake body. Even more disturbing was the knowledge that I had blown my quarter on a hoax.

So if you're walking by my office and you happen to see the flowers on my desk, before you begin to speak . . . let me tell you, they're fake.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

A Break From the Rain

Yesterday was sunny.

Here's the weather symbol I'm looking at for the rest of the week:



Friday, January 13, 2006

Alive and Well

For those of you who are concerned about my well-being, I'm alive. It's just very wet out here (it's been raining for 26 straight days), and I've been thinking a lot about my commute as well as a new quarter of classes.

If you're curious, I'm teaching another introduction to poetry class as well as an advanced seminar on poetry for undergrads. So I've been very busy on a MWF teaching schedule and when I'm home, I do a lot of school prep and a heck of a lot of vegetating and a lot of dog-running (sloshing?).

I've got some tenure-track paper work I need to be getting on shortly, and I've got some grant applications I'm preparing. Meanwhile I'm still sending poems out, so I've not entirely fallen off the face of the poetry planet.

I'm currently reading a book called Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies , by Jared Diamond, and it's absolutely fascinating.

For poetry and for the classes I'm teaching, I'm reading Leadbelly, by Tyehimba Jess, Here, Bullet, by Brian Turner, Lampblack & Ash by Simone Muench, Eat Quite Everything You See by Leslie Adrienne Miller, Voluntary Servitude by Mark Wunderlich, and Quipo by Arthur Sze.

So my plate is full. If you don't hear much from me, don't take it personally. I'm here and I'm still checking out your blogs and all that you do because I care. :D

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Car Windows and Reverie

My car's windshield got dinged by a pebble some time ago. It started as a small crack on the passenger side. Daily, I think, it's grown a millimeter or two since the incident. Today it had a growth spurt--I think the cold outside air and the warm inside defrosting air pushed the windshield to the brink. Now the car has a crack across the entire width of the windshield. It was somewhat embarassing to be driving around Bellingham with a shoddy-looking car. And the sad thing is, it's fairly new! Luckily my insurance is taking care of some of it. But the gradual growth of the crack gave me something to obsess over.

Somehow, this all made me think of poetry. I really have no explanation as to how my mind works these days. My writing's been really episodic of late. I'll write a bit, then move on. Write a bit, move on, etc.. I do believe that it's been hard for me to buckle down with my writing because of this commuter lifestyle I'm leading at the moment. Here's the thing . . . I tend to think of myself as a "project" writer. When I have a project in mind, I hang on to that project. Some may call that writing from obsession. . . I suppose I do obsess.

But when I'm commuting every other day through traffic, much of my non-travel days are spent thinking of travel, gearing up for travel, preparing my classes which I travel to . . . Additionally, it's not easy traffic (though Meredith's got it worse). There are lots of nutso drivers traveling the strip of I-5 we negotiate. On top of that, the weather's far from ideal for driving in the dark. And yes, it's dark when I leave my house and it's dark when I get home.

Needless to say, I haven't found a place of reverie that I enjoyed the years when I was living closer to my place of employment. My preoccupations have been consumed by gas prices, 60 mile drives, the cars around me.

****

In other news, I have been writing, though not as spontaneously as I once have. It'll come. It'll expand. It'll crack.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Halloween's Coming!





I was trying to remember the last time I ever went "Trick-or-Treating." I think it was sometime around seventh or eighth grade. I can't recall what costume I wore for that last spin around the neighborhoods. It was probably something cheap, homemade, definitely not one of those glossy, plastic, store-bought costumes. I do remember that I didn't go as far into the neighborhoods as I had in my younger days. The whole idea of wandering in the sharp evening air left me with many doubts about the efficacy of "Trick-or-Treating" as a means of achieving a sick candy buzz.

I suspect I stopped dressing up for Halloween because I was tired of pretending. It all probably had a lot to do with going through puberty . . . I was in a hurry to be somebody, but I wasn't sure who that somebody was just yet.

Anyway, kids will be swarming the streets this Monday. We live in the suburbs, flanked by homes with children. Meredith's filling our candy cache. I did a little decorating around the house, stuffing a garbage bag witch with newspaper. The witch is a cheap 99 cent decoration, but she has her charms. There are also rubber bats, plastic spider webs, and jack-o-lanterns set here and there. Meredith has also bought me a costume. . . It's a felt Devil's mask. I suppose I'll carry my Halloween demons with me when I answer the door to the tune of sappy Halloween sounds (a disc Meredith also bought). Mere, of course, has a Frankenstein felt mask. The dog shall remain unmasked, though we do have a pink wig he likes to wear. He's pretty certain he's a dog. He likes being a dog.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Back in the swing of things; talking about the weather.

October is always one of my favorite months. In New York, the early part of October is when all the foliage starts to really turn colors. Here in Washington, some of that is happening too. Folks are no longer wearing shorts (I hate wearing shorts, by the way), and the scarves, hats, and winter gear are getting taken out of their boxes and placed in the high-use drawers. Personally, I always enjoyed dressing for Fall. The mornings are crisp and cold, but in the afternoons it might be warm enough to wear a light jacket.

Also, school seems to be running full tilt. I know now I don't feel as wound-up about prepping for classes. A routine has settled in and that always seems good for both my teaching and my writing.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Dipping Back In

. . . to the Prose Poem all because of a graduate course I'm teaching this quarter. You know it's psychologically difficult to switch from "lineated verse" to "non-lineated verse." Quotes are up because the class is in the midst of grappling with the issues of genre.

If you're curious, here's the reading list:

Models of the Universe. Ed. Stuart Friebert and David Young. Oberlin: Oberlin College Press. 1995.
Edson, Russell. The Tunnel: Selected Poems. Oberlin: Oberlin College Press. 1994.
Volkman, Karen. Spar. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press. 2002.
Simic, Charles. The World Doesn't End. San Diego: Harcourt Brace. 1989.
Tost, Tony. Invisible Bride. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press. 2004.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

You'll want to strap on those dancing shoes for . . .

TAKES 3 To TANGO: A Dance Party Extravaganza!!!!


The even is co-sponsored by Cave Canem and Bloom Magazine.

TAKES 3 TO TANGO: A DanceParty Extravaganza


Ever want to dance true tango style? Rose in your teeth? Love in the air? Well, cariño, your time has arrived. Takes 3 to Tango features tango lessons, free flowing wine, glittering poetry and dancing to your favorite hip hop and funk beats! Come on out and shake your groove-thing for a fabulous cause. All proceeds will benefit programs for LGBT, African American, and Asian American writers. A portion of the proceeds will also be donated to The Red Cross Katrina Disaster Relief Fund.

• Free Tango Lessons from 8:30 – 9pm
• Open Wine Bar from 9 – 10pm
• Free Gold Roses given out (for dancin’ and romancin’ of course!)

Your Illustrious Host Committee:

Minnie Bruce Pratt, Mark Doty, Regie Cabico, Father Francis Gargani, Bishop Alfred Johnson, Walter Mosley, Vijay Seshadri, Patricia Smith & John Yau

The 411:

Saturday, September 24, 2005
The LGBT Community Center
208 West 13th Street (between 7th and 8th Avenues)
8:00 p.m – Midnite

$20 Advance Tickets

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Here's why . . .

you should be jumping up and down: Clicky!

Congratulations to Barbara Jane Reyes!!!

More to come . . . But in the meantime, wander over to Barbara Jane's blog and give her the thumbs up and a big hug.

You'll see why soon enough.