Joy Harjo

I had the good fortune to attend both a reading and a workshop given by poet, musician, and writer Joy Harjo.

She came to the 41st annual Agnes Scott Writers Festival as a poetry judge, and she chose my work as the winning poem.

In the Agnes Scott theater, Harjo enchanted the audience with her poems, her children’s story, excerpts from her newly launched memoir, and Polynesian songs she sang and played on a ukelele.

Although the reading was joyous and celebratory, there was an undercurrent of mourning, because Joy Harjo had dedicated the night to her poet mentor and friend, Adrienne Rich.

The next day the poetry finalists met with Ms. Harjo to talk about our poems. She asked us to share what we thought were areas where we could strengthen our work, and she offered suggestions for revisions.

She admitted to the group that she was very much saddened by the passing of Adrienne Rich, and that the previous night’s dedication to her beloved mentor had taken a good deal of emotional energy.

She encouraged us to accept that death is real and that young poets should not succumb to the allure of suicide, as many poets and artists have done in decades past.

Of course, I am not a younger poet. I am a newly public writer who is not young. But some of the other finalists were in undergraduate writing programs, and a few of their poems were quite melancholy. It was good for all of us to hear Harjo’s wise words.

Adah Menken

This doodle is the first in a series I’m starting titled “poets across the decades.” Just today I learned of Adah Menken from a friend who is writing her dissertation about this poet and actress.

Adah Menken’s poem “Infelix” can be read on the Poetry Foundation website.

Although her life ended during her Jesus year, she wrote an autobiography and a collection of poems, acted on Broadway and in Europe, and married four times.

Watching Masterpiece Theater While Knitting

Since I’m working on an advanced degree in English, I figure it behooves me to re-visit British history; what better way to refresh my memory than watching period-piece dramas? Of course, not all historical fiction is made alike–Elizabeth, with Cate Blanchett, takes many liberties with the traditional narrative of the Virgin Queen’s early years, although the costumes dazzle and the acting mesmerizes.

So now I’m streaming the classic Glenda Jackson Masterpiece series on Netflix. What joy! And I have the use of an iPad from the university I attend. By setting it up on a pillow, I can watch in bed and knit.

Free Association on Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

Happy, sad, happy, joy, content, bliss, blissful, happiness, peace, fulfillment, content, calm, floating, warm ocean, warm seas, dogs, cuddles, hugs, nice, niceness, hot coffee, sunny days, long walks, bright scarves, a painting, a drawing, a poem, sitting still, breathing quietly, enjoying the breath, colors, purple, red, yellow, green, indigo, plum, cyan, chestnut, roan, horses, palominos, Appaloosas, black stallions, a brindled mare, long manes, feathered tails, horses galloping across sand dunes at sunrise, Red’s mouth and gummy lips, Duffy’s domed forehead, talking to Jacob about philosophy, talking to Aiden about art, listening to S. talk about politics, playing solitaire, writing in my journal, reading memoirs, reading biographies of other writers, visiting writers’ homes, finding legends that pique my imagination, getting lost in a good book, remembering the beach in Mexico.

Day after reading Auden

Ran/walked on treadmill for an hour listening to Latin jazz.

Ate a bunch of almond windmill cookies from Trader Joe’s and felt guilty.

Wrote a poem that did not give sense of elation when finished.

Spoke up about James Dickey in a seminar class about Anne Sexton. Wished I had kept mouth shut since I know zilch about Dickey.

Suffered slightly from engaging in idle, thoughtless gossip in copy room.

Vacuumed carpets and was pleased to see the canister fill up with dog hair.

Dreamed I had a discussion with a man about Auden after I had come in from being lost in a snow storm.

Bad Desk, Bad, Bad Desk

My three mantras for 2012 are to listen more closely, pay attention, and be happy. The last one means, among various shades of emotion, to achieve equilibrium, inner peace, and calmness.

Therefore, I need to clean off my desk. I need to clear a space for writing. As a Libra, I thrive in a harmonious environment. I will recycle all unnecessary papers and shelve the books and folders from last semester. Time to let the new mess begin.

On My Walk

•A little boy waved bye-bye to me.
• I met a golden retriever named Penny Lane and her human companion Jim.