Allegedly the weekend just happened, whoa. I take no comfort in the velocity at which time moves these days though it is becoming ever more apparent that time moves at one speed: this speed. (That is, besides being a little song knife swinging in my mind right now, also a main trope of Tom Clark's latest book/poem Threnody, which will be published as an effing book within 2 weeks time.) It's true too, that.
Wanting it all can mean having nothing and critical paralysis is a real thing to consider. I can be as still as you'll let me be.
Are we ever anyone but who we've been and can that ever change?
Friday I gave up and gave in. I broke myself down to the basic bits and crawled the floor with the dust bunnies and paper scraps with the songs of the new Broken Social Scene bouncing off the planks. I've been refusing the night air. There's been plenty of shows and stuff I've wanted to get out to but when I put on my shoes and get to the front door I forget what I want and find a chair and sit and think about it and then it's too late.
Saturday the weather was fine and I opened all the doors and windows and let the breeze do its thing. I bound World Jellys and Red Juices and Lyric Poetrys and filled some effing orders and printed a broadside. Went to the Cross-Quarter-Day reading at Austin Yoga, was one of 6 people who showed. I closed my eyes the whole time but did not sleep though I most certainly dreamed. Went to a b-day party for Dale S afterward and sipped spirits, talked to peops, made nice. Went home, went to bed but couldn't sleep. Watched The Corporation and wrote some and went to sleep just after dawn.
I dreamed you were married to a BMX'er and your hair was twice as long. I layed down beside you and trembled.
Think I'm gonna put out a new blog attached to this one within the next few days if I can find the time. It will consist of letters I've written over the last couple of years.
Still working toward getting something set up in March for unAWP events. I've sent out many proposals and booking inquiries to venues around town. I'm hoping something in the downtown area sticks so no one has to bother with driving. Though it might mean a different venue each night. Still working out what local presses will sponsor what. We have a little planning committee in the works...
I read Dennis Cooper's The Sluts the other day and it turned me off of sex (for a few hours). Reminded me somewhat of Tim O'Brien's In the Lake of the Woods, a book I think about from time to time and highly recommend. Cooper's book, whereas interesting for its fragmented narrative mode, felt very predictable and ultimately I was disappointed that the characters were not fleshed out as much. I say fleshed as a pun of course because the book centers around a whodunnit of sorts discussed in a chat room/posting board environment. All flesh and physical action is represented by testimony, often graphic and violent, but anyone who reads blogs and discussion boards will be reminded instantly that one should not always believe what one reads or even believe that people are who they are or that they exist at all. Suffice it to say in that regard that Cooper's book does succeed to some extent as a reflection of chat room hyperbole and character switching and the art of fiction in itself. It could have worked as a story about insurance salesmen too. The sex and violence is the hook of course but that only has so much depth. That or I am not as sensitive as I used to be. (I mean after American Psycho what is left?)
Sunday I swept the floors and went for a run. Edited on my grandmother's memoir of my grandfather who died two years ago. It's running at just under 70 pages and I promised her I'd see it through printing by x-mas. How could anyone say no to Nana (whose cornbread is righteous)?
I am more than ready to get to North Carolina Wednesday. Going to pal around with Ken Rumble and Tony Tost and that lot of great people of the Lucipo list. Going to see Sarah Manguso and Julian Semilian read Saturday for Ken's Desert City Reading Series which should be fun. Afterward I'll read a a little at The Blue Door, hosted by Todd Sandvik. There's a whole list of folks I hope to meet in person. And just to get out of town is great. I can seriously use the time away from this place.
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