Hodge-podge
Going back to Barcelona, I will one day. Soon. For the moment, this window of pop fun will make me do.
_______________
I thought Nico Case sent this link my way, but it was Nico Vassilakis for all you Vispo people out there.
______________
Visit the new Asian-Amerian issue of MiPO guest edited by Nick Carbo yet?
______________
My first day out, yesterday, after yet another visit to the doc’s, Sara and I went to see the Kiki Smith show at the Whitney (one and a half thumbs up), along with the Picasso side-by-side show, including work by Jasper Johns, Pollock, de Kooning, Lichtenstein, etc — not sure who came up with this comparative-influence theme, but it was fun to play along — and ran into Lee Ranaldo, who was there early to set up for a show he was doing. He’s quite the accessible and friendly guy – except when he heard I am midway through my antibiotics regimen, he took two steps back. All in all, a good first day back on my feet.
______________
Looking for “Self Portrait” poem recommendations (please provide actual copy or a link) — putting together lesson plans for courses. Gah.
HISTORY
Tomaz Salamun is a monster.
Tomaz Salamun is a sphere
rushing through the air.
He lies down in twilight, he swims in twilight.
People and I, we both look at him amazed,
we wish him well, maybe he is a comet.
Maybe he is punishment from the gods,
the boundary stone of the world.
Maybe he is such a speck in the universe
that he will give energy to the planet
when oil, steel, and food run short.
He might only be a hump, his head
should be taken off like a spider’s.
But something would then suck up
Tomaz Salamun, possibly the head.
Possibly he should be pressed between
glass, his photo should be taken.
He should be put in formaldehyde, so children
would look at him as they do at fetuses,
protei, and mermaids.
Next year, he’ll probably be in Hawaii
or in Ljubljana. Doorkeepers will scalp
tickets. People walk barefoot
to the university there. The waves can be
a hundred feet high. The city is fantastic,
shot through with people on the make,
the wind is mild.
But in Ljubljana people say: look!
This is Tomaz Salamun, he went to the store
with his wife Marushka to buy some milk.
He will drink it and this is history.
Tomaz Salamun
[Translated by Bob Perelman and Tomaz Salamun]
______________
From a fun collection of interviews, How To Make A Life As A Poet (Soft Skull Press) by Gary Mex Glazner, a metaphor by Kim Addonizio:
I think of it as the difference between an infatuation or a romance and a love affair. The people that are having a romance with writing just want to think of themselves as writers. Their romance is, “Whatever I write is my expression and it is perfect and no one may tread on it.”
But the real interest of writing is the love affair, just like with people. It’s great to have a fling with somebody, but the real interesting thing is when you start to go deeply into love and discover who the other person is. When you hit your own walls and limitations.
That is the same thing with writing, ultimately you come up against so much in yourself when you go deeply into your writing. You are trying to articulate something in your writing. You are trying to articulate something in your writing, year after year, and that is where I think the rewards are as a writer.
The process is endless, this process of psychic excavation. At the same time you are learning about language, learning what other people have done, discovering what you can and can’t do, getting past your own limits as a writer. That for me is the interesing aspect, the real love affair that engages you on every level. That makes you deal with your shit. Writing makes you deal with your shit if you are serious about it. That is where writing gets interesting for me.
–from How To Make A Life As A Poet
______________
Am reading excerpts from a recent gift (thank you, Michael!) of Joseph Cornell’s Theater of the Mind: Selected Diaries, Letters, and Files. Some little blips for you:
HYACINTH – its pungency that once filled the whole lower floor this year the kitchen mainly, & now towards the end of its tenure gratitude to Mother for such a tradition of beauty as she gave us especially now “of flowers” — quince & forsythia about to bloom after a “day” getting out early before this special feeling passes — and the phenomenon of its never heavy but put down in spite of collage (Vale of Hyacinths), Proust, etc.
—
however, that swing again to opposites–almost two hours up and zest to carry on after stalemate of sleep, gloomy prognostication in phantasmagoria again but not aggressive–prior nights water dreams children generally was the real inspiration first Saturday morning–three pieces in communion with the young helpers
—
down the cellar starts again the nebulous nature of the influence of Surrealism the nature of it so that someone like Jacques Maritain can come to grips with it, react to it logically affirmatively–
exposure to Surrealism’s philosophy relative to, concern with, the “objet”–a kind of happy marriage with my life-long preoccupation with things. Especially with regard to the past, a futile reminiscence of the Mill notion that everything old is good & valuable –mystical sense of the past –empathy for antiques –nostalgia for old books, period documents, prints, photographs, etc.
–from Joseph Cornell’s Theater of the Mind: Selected Diaries, Letters, and Files
8 Responses to “Hodge-podge”
AMY KING View All →
Amy King is the recipient of the 2015 Winner of the Women’s National Book Association (WNBA) Award. Her latest collection, The Missing Museum, is a winner of the 2015 Tarpaulin Sky Book Prize. She co-edited with Heidi Lynn Staples the anthology Big Energy Poets of the Anthropocene: When Ecopoets Think Climate Change. She also co-edits the anthology series, Bettering American Poetry, and is a professor of creative writing at SUNY Nassau Community College.
AMY KING 
January 14th, 2007 at 5:13 pm eYour blips, excerpts, and Dada translations
are starting to form a sort of seminar.
I’m enjoying the little gems so culled.
January 14th, 2007 at 5:56 pm eGlad to be of service — it’s interesting to know what folks are thinking, though I keep removing myself from the discussion to put the finishing touches on my forthcoming book – yay!Thanks for your comments, Jim~
January 14th, 2007 at 7:34 pm eHi from New Zealand. You have an interesting blog, Amy. I think that taking writing seriously means that you strive to do your best and to get it right. In order to do this you practice regularly not just when you feel like it and you listen to other writers and reflect on what makes their writing successful.
January 15th, 2007 at 7:18 am eCornell beguiles me absolutely. Kerri Webster’s got a series of Cornell-inspired poems in her book We Do Not Eat Our Hearts Alone. It’s one of my favorite books. Ever. Cheers.
January 15th, 2007 at 8:17 pm eDude Amy… gearing up for our hang-out, reading your lovely blog. One small issue: why is that horrid photo of me the thing people will see when they click on my name? Though, you can see a Picasso anywhere….
January 15th, 2007 at 11:00 pm eIt’s not bad at all, other than the white bloom in
the middle, Sara, lol. You should see Amy and her pup
below. Still, the alternative is no pic. Well, not quite:
Amy, I’m not sure if you have the clearance on your camera,
but I hold a piece of vellum paper a few inches in front of
my flash. It makes a great diffuser: cuts the splotch down,
way down on those close-ups.
January 15th, 2007 at 11:10 pm eUm (rummage for info) Canon SD450:
yup, see if you can bum a 2″x3″ piece of vellum
off someone and tuck in somewhere handy…I think
there is enough clearance to hold it a few inches in front
of your flash. Effect: less white bloom, less skin-shine
rest of face brighter, sharper detail. Unfortunately,
it’s harder to use it in your self-portraits. I’m in training
with my mini-digital-SLR here. Happy clicking!
January 16th, 2007 at 3:10 am eHarvey — Hello back to NZ! Nice to hear from you. And thanks for your note on successful writing, granted, a long, dedicated task.Erin — I’ll certainly check out Webster’s book, when I get around to another poetry order (or bootleg run!). Cheers~
Sara — I love the demon eye in that pic, though you really can see a Picasso anywhere as you did through J. Edgar Hoover tonight. Mwah.
Jim — gracias for the camera advise. My camera efforts are much less calculated than you may imagine though. I don’t know if I’ll have time to pull out a piece of vellum and hold it up. I’m usually doing something along the lines of “Hold on!” while I pull out and turn on the camera. I really need a Leica Rangefinder camera for my impromptu shots, which can run in the triple digits. But if anyone’s offering one for donation, I swear I’ll return to my photography career of yesteryear. I swear if you donate a Leica, I swear. I’ll be this century’s Diane Arbus. And I’ll kiss you.