South Dakota bound

"In wildness is the preservation of the world."
-Thoreau

Your Tambourine Lady

I missed November. I missed my bus. I miss a lot of things. Some days I don't miss anything and then my body turns into a kitchen rag, rung out and crinkly- I slept for 12 hours last night and when I got onto my bus (finally) this morning I listened to Bon Iver's "Skinny Love" and watched the snow sweep itself across the face of Bloomington Ave. The sun was just dirty orange perfect.

I finished reading Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones, and Dorraine Laux's What We Carry, and parts of Jericho Brown's Please, and have been re-reading Harryette Mullen's Sleeping with the Dictionary, and have been reading almost anything I can get my dry little hands on.

I am into Natalie Goldberg's approach to writing- free writing, first thoughts, writing as Zen practice, creativity as the loss of control, turning to face the world in detail... I have underlined half the book. I also dug Dorraine Laux's poems- they insired me to put down a poem about my parents while they were here for Thanksgiving- we went to Matt's bar down the street and had greasy burgers and pitcher's of Grain Belt and told stories. Am still digesting Jericho Brown's collection and am gaining new insights while re-reading Mullen's collection. I am intentionally reading Sleeping with the Dictionary while drafting/free writing all of my 8 crimes/poems in the FOIA series idea. Reading her poetry bends my thoughts and it is fun to experiment while writing in this bent-thought mode. Plus, how the heck do you tackle such institutional language/systematically political angle in our society? It's ambitious I know, but it is quite fun playing around with language in this way. I have also been thinking about a first collection of poems, not that I have enough as of now, but working towards how the poems in my manuscript will look like next to these new ones to coming is important I think. I think it would be fun to have a collection with 8 prose crimes dispersed throughout- some lose linkage between the immigration pieces feels right.

Anywhosky. Here are two writing buddies at MayDay Cafe (where we meet to free write and roll cigarettes and get belly aches from coffee):



And here is Chastity morning jamming:



Chastity's show at the Cedar opening for Toshi Reagon was bomb. The gals over at PaperDarts Lit. Mag interviewed her before the gig and are working on a new website for her new album/projects down the road. It is crazy to see someone you love grow and discover just exactly what their body holds.

I love this season. I am happy to be around friends and to be full of music and be ever so thankful. I am like a tambourine lady with a pocket full of jingles- maybe I feel this way because I actually sent out my applications and I have time to just enjoy writing, reading, movie watching, playing the drums (yes I have started boom-snicking around on the extra drum set).

I hope to get a new camera soon so I can capture even more pics. I have been into snapping domestic pics as we may be moving to Nashville soon unless by some miraculous act of goddess I get into school here. In any case, home is where the rock and roll is:






I was listening to "Democracy Now" on Thanksgiving Day and heard Amy Goodman interview Buffy St. Marie. I had listened to her once or twice before this, but damn. DAMN. I am going to the Electric Fetus tomorrow to get her newest album, "Running for the Drum." Her song "No No Keshagesh" gives me wicked goose bumps. I danced around the house while cooking my gluten-free pumpkin pie the whole day.

As for movies: "Precious" was fucking intense and fucking phenomenal. "The Cave of the Yellow Dog" was also breathtaking in it's raw simple beauty.

Besides indulging in these little jewels of creativity, I have also been serving on jury duty...and writing like crazy because I basically sat in the jury assembly room for 3 days straight after getting dismissed from one trial and another one settling. There is nothing like entering the beginnings of winter with a full on cannonball splash into new projects. Winter is for foundation laying. I read this article by Jeanette Winterson and it is the kind of talk that will make someone want to move to Minnesota just to experience the dark winter months and to slip into a hot steaming bath and have all the excuse in the world to slow down and reflect. Or maybe this is what I tell myself to get through the Minnesota winter....bring it on you howling, ear-ripping gusts of freezer breath!