Married #2

By on Dec 31, 2014 in Temporal, Words | 0 comments

As I said in Married blog #1, things did unexpectedly change after the ritual. And no, it’s not just because people keep asking “How is married life?” Though I do find that question slightly annoying. Ask me something specific. Do I have doubts? Am I happy? Do I love him? Do I now, after all these years, pine for the possibility of other options for a mate? Do I have secretes to partnered bliss? No, for the first one and last two. There you have it. I find the question annoying because, well, there IS something that changed…and those leaves of change continue to steep, revealing different aromas as the time goes on.

And I don’t quite know how to describe the new fragrances. I don’t have words yet for them.

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Pat Conroy’s House

By on Dec 31, 2014 in Astral, Featured, Temporal | 0 comments

I went to Pat Conroy’s house last night (to check on him because his wife, authoress Cassandra King, was out of town. Shh. Don’t tell). I let myself into the house, as usual. Poured myself a glass of wine (cause let’s face it: their wine is better than mine), and started looking for him. He’s not in the living room. Not in the TV room. Not in the library. Not in the back room. He’s not in his study. Ok, then, I think, he’s either asleep or on the upstairs porch—the one that over looks the water and the oak tree that I am certain contains more wisdom and grace than most of us combined.

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By on Nov 18, 2014 in Temporal | 2 comments

I have a number of things to say about this past week (no surprise there). The first is that my former dissertation chair and current boss at IAS said to me, when I wanted to schedule meetings the week after the weeding, “No, trust me. You will need more than a week.”

In my naiveté and slight arrogance, I thought, “Uh, no I don’t. It’s just a party and celebration, and Jonathan and I have been married for centuries.” Yes, I said that. We have. We both remember. Some iterations of “us” were better than others—in particular those in which we didn’t kill each other or abandon one another. This is one of the best ones. And yes, there is a fable coming about it. Anyway, here’s what I underestimated and observed, and why I should probably listen to my always-wise former dissertation chair…

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The Literary Apothecary

By on Sep 2, 2014 in Featured, Lost Cantos, Words | 0 comments

I will write nearly anything for anyone for money or for dog food, for cat vetting, for folks who I think are fabulous in their arts and labors, but who are not writers themselves—and sometimes, just because I can. I have been trained to forge out of letters strung together the emotions, thoughts, and shapes that I see or that some people need (hence why I like the term “literary apothecary”). Sometimes, I am actually successful at it. It’s always shocking when that happens because really, and to break a totally rigid writing rule, I will now deploy a rabid cliché (and then I will mix some metaphors), it takes two to tango: I can write my heart out, but if the reader doesn’t sync with the rhythm of the dance, doesn’t like the hook, finds the orchestration either too plush or too thin, I might as well be painting by numbers or sunning myself by the pool. Without a wiling reader, it really is just a foolish and indulgent past time.

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Janis Ian and Stefan Rudnicki record my audio book Part 4: Webster’s Redemption

By on Aug 4, 2013 in Featured, Lost Cantos | 0 comments

Yes. It has come to this. Me, the anti-blogger or forced-blogger has chosen to blog in order to have a legitimate means to procrastinate all the other stuff I’m supposed to be doing. So, during this rather low moment in my current workday, I thought I’d blog about a rather embarrassing moment during the audio recording with Janis and Stefan. Here goes.

We are knee-deep in day 2 of recording. My shoes have long since come off, I’m pretty sure my shirt is unflatteringly scrunched up in the back, as I have opted at this point to ungracefully lay on the floor like a teenager as opposed to sitting in one of the many chairs or on the sofa (like a proper adult. I do have my spine as an excuse, you know). I no longer bother with the napkin under my coffee cup, I just put it down and hope to God I don’t knock it over, I have no idea where my backpack is…

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