Silent Stare

Because love sings.

I wrote this lyrical piece while living outside of Las Vegas, Nevada, in 2014.

“Remember that time we lived in Vegas…”

Where there was family, there was love.

At the end of april, there was a song.

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The Last Day of Poetry Month

Why not poetry year?

I realized my practice. The ebb and flow. The pause before and after rain. How the air stings before dark. The moon watches and guides the waves. My body, my blood.

I am a new age, a new era. I have entered without songs or cheers. I feel the fire in the belly.

There is a call. A need. To watch the fragile life turn. Bloom. There are two paths we can take. We can meet in the middle. Or at the end. We can light candles and sing.

Offerings

    

  

    
 

   
Details: I have lived in Eugene, Oregon for about 10 months now and I am looking towards creating a writing community or meeting the writing community that is flourishing here… I am interested in the “counter-poetics of space” and how to articulate silent bodies. My hope is to facilitate an informal writing workshop that experiments with language, sound, mixed media and to create a space for writing to be shared. Ideally, the workshops will take place at a local community space where we will write, read, share and drink tea.

I am inspired by CA Conrad… we will explore movement, mapping space and the influence of our natural environment on the space of writing.

Many thanks to my friendships for their support and inspiration!

Hmmm…Reflections

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The Thinking Its Presence Conference was an educational support group–a space to be seen and heard, to bear witness. I met some wonderful new minds, reunited with mentors and friends and appreciated the chance to share my experience of my “home”–lost in a sea of green–now that spring is here. It’s still grey, which makes the sunshine a gift. I have been processing “infections” and “whiteness” and remembering my practice–I was given a seed to care for, to heal through Feeding Your Demons.

I am thinking about root systems again. Sparked by the seed. And the seeds that continue to be planted and sowed. (Thank you Katharine!)

I finished Claudia Rankine’s Citizen the week after the conference. I brokedown.

“Memory is a tough place. You were there. If this is not the

truth, it is also not a lie.”

“The headaches begin then. Don’t wear sunglasses in the house, the world says, though they soothe, soothe

sight, soothe you.”

There is pink glitter on my book shelf–Thank you Mg!

I am reading Dictee and The Tibetan Book of the Dead.

I am returning to my roots to remember to be presently love.

And yet.

I am applying towards a life that I cannot see.