Wednesday, September 23, 2009

A change

I was surprised today to hear myself say: "I'm an extrovert."

I've thought of myself as an introvert for a while now, but things started to change once I hit Kimmel Harding. I realized, and not for the first time, how much I need interaction with the outside world. That really energized me while at Kimmel Harding, and while at MacDowell as well.

I've sat on this screened porch and watched summer slip into fall. The leaves are turning and the breeze is brushing them from the trees. Soon I too will pack and leave.

Lunch Poem No. 19

The ones I like
said hi!
You're back!
How was your trip?

The others kept talking
over their orange juice.

You cannot adore everyone.
Too much admiration
clouds the sky
with light,
blocks out
each star's brightness.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Colony Hall, I will miss you

And the voices echoing, and the silences, and the voices within those silences.

MacDowell has been one of the most challenging things I've ever done. So of course it's won my heart.

Better

It's one no that wasn't even unequivocal. Buck up, Chumly.

Monday, September 21, 2009

No cynicism

I've been pretty immersed in the art world this summer and early fall, having spent close to six weeks at artist residencies in two different states.

I am knocked out by the support, encouragement, and enthusiasm I have experienced both at Kimmel Harding and MacDowell. These are people who believe in the power of the written word, the brushstroke, the actor who steps on the stage, the film, the musical note, the architectural design. They more than believe it -- they spend their professional lives making it happen.

I cannot thank and promote these places enough. I am so grateful to be at a point in my career where I can experience this -- and I hope to return to both!

Greetings from Colony Hall


Working here before I head off to Burlington!

Lunch Poem No. 18

Feed stray cats
and they become family.

How does this translate to artists?

Will we linger
around your legs
as you chop onions,
purring
and insistent?

But the cats
have no departure date.
There is no outside world,
no phone calls to make,
no husbands to embrace
at the San Francisco Airport.

We can linger
but only for so long.