My New Review up on The Rumpus, Spending Time with Poet Friends, and Unexpected Downtime
- At August 23, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
1
New Review up on The Rumpus
Happy to have my new review of Lee Ann Roripaugh’s excellent and timely Tsunami vs the Fukushima 50 up at The Rumpus today. Check it out! Sneak peek:
“In Tsunami vs. the Fukushima 50, a book that crackles with imaginative language and mythological retellings that represent real-life disaster, Roripaugh offers the audience a new way to think about nuclear and natural disasters and the remnants and ghosts that remain in their wake. Worth a close reading just for the sonic skills displayed, this book manages to weave a larger message for the reader inside poems that are at once playful, plaintive, and foreboding.”
I really do believe that reviews are part of staying a part of the “giving” part of the poetry community, and I hope that reading this one 1. brings you joy and 2. causes you to look up this book, because I’m very enthusiastic about it.
Spending Time with Poet Friends
Speaking of poetry community, I had the chance to spend some time catching up with my poet friend – or should I say, doctor/poet friend – Natasha K. Moni. She has just opened up her practice in the South Sound, and we talked publishing, book sales, balancing being a writer and a doctor (she also offerings book “doctoring!” – ie editing services!) I mean, that’s a lot going on!
One thing that will always make you feel a little less frustrated and alone in the poetry world in spending time with other writers. Every one of us has good news and bad news, good days and bad days, figuring out this whole “living life as a writer” thing. We have to help each other celebrate and mourn, fight the good fight, etc.
Unexpected Downtime
The fun of having a kind of crappy immune system is that one day you feel fine – see above re: socializing, and the picture of me enjoying some sunshine and flowers at the edge of Lake Washington – and the next, you’ll have to cancel all your appointments and are forced to take some unexpected downtime and go to the doctor instead of doing something “useful.” That was the case for me this week when I caught one of the stomach bugs going around. Mostly it meant lying around groaning (I’m not good with stomach stuff, though I’m pretty tough at this point about most health things) and extra sleep while playing classic movies in the background (the news was much too terrible to contemplate even on a very empty stomach) and it reminded me again that we have to appreciate the good days when they happen, and be gentle on ourselves on the bad days. I used the downtime to order a new Yoko Ogawa novel and peruse some poetry journals which had been lying next to the bed, and decide to grade Audrey Hepburn movies from best to worst (My favorites remain Sabrina and Paris When It Sizzles because writer satire on the latter and Paris featuring in both, plus I would definitely date William Holden and marry Humphrey Bogart.) Funny Face is a distant third, only because Fred Astaire just didn’t seem to have good chemistry with Audrey, but at least it has some nice scenes in a bookstore.
Our society really pounds in the point that we’re only to be valued if we are of use, and that is a negative lesson. Human beings – including myself – have value even if they’re not being “productive” or “turning a profit” or “making widgets.” One thing poetry does is teach people to slow down and evaluate their world (and worldview.) If the news says the world is burning, it may be, and what does that mean? And what can we do about it? That’s why the kind of poetry book I reviewed (link at the beginning of the post) is important – not just that it examines a huge cultural and environmental catastrophe of our time, but that it really makes us thing hard about why these things happen and how we are involved. And maybe even more valuable than the things you plan to do is the unplanned downtime that gives you time to ponder. Even if that downtime is the kind that leaves you moaning in bed.
Well, I’m hoping to post a healthier post next week, but until then, enjoy the last of August before September is upon us. Remember to eat a popsicle and run around barefoot and smell at least one flower before it’s over. I will do the same.
Plath Poetry Project Feature Today, Facebook Memories from Three Years Ago, Publishing and Writing Under Stress,
- At August 15, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
4
Plath Poetry Project Feature Today
I want to start this post by thanking the Plath Poetry Project, where my poem “Hospital Room in Spring” is the feature today. It was inspired by Sylvia Plath’s poem, “Tulips.” Today’s blog post talks about writing under the stress of health issues, and publishing under that pressure as well, so the poem is thematic!
Here’s a peek at the poem:
Facebook Memories from Three Years Ago
I had a very jarring experience. Facebook Memories put up a picture of me from three years ago. I had just gotten my hair cut short in preparation for chemo and I made the public announcement that I had cancer. At the time, three different doctors, including an oncologist, believed I had six months or less to live. I had fourteen tumors of varying size in my liver that they couldn’t treat with radiation or surgery.
I’ve kept the short hair, and the tumors haven’t gone anywhere, although now they are being classified as “benign or at least indolent.” Of course, we have to have MRIs every six months to make sure they don’t grow or turn into cancer. I have the stubborn desire to survive. To persist.
Since that time, you may know if you’ve been following this blog, I’ve gotten diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, was hospitalized with “flares” twice (both time also in August,) wrote two books – one about being diagnosed with terminal cancer and then MS, and the other weather aberrations, fireproof girls, and the political culture since 2016. I am hoping to get them published before anything else happens to me. I believe in the #writetolivelivetowrite motto. It has been a rough three years. I listen to more Beyoncé than I used to. The word “Survivor” is in a lot of my playlists.
I am very thankful for the support given to me by my husband Glenn, who has been there for me every second of the last three years, and my friends, far and near, who sent flowers and cards and reminded me that I was loved. I had very good health insurance which ensured I could see doctors for second opinions and more out-there treatments. I had two friends with similar diagnoses – both younger than me – who passed away in the last three years. So I know that I am lucky. It may not always feel lucky, but there it is.
I posted a short message about this Facebook memory on social media, and was overwhelmed by 1. supportive messages and 2. the number of friends who had no idea what the last three years had held for me. It’s a reminder that when we feel lonely and that no one cares, maybe a lot of people care, but they just didn’t know what’s going with us. You might not know just from looking – you might see that my hair is shorter, or that I use a cane – but our surfaces rarely reflect our real struggles.
Publishing and Writing Under Stress
So the one thing I didn’t stop doing when I thought I was dying was writing. I’d finished the first draft of my sixth manuscript in six months. And I really didn’t stop doing most things – although it was certainly interrupted by a lot of unpleasant tests – but I signed the mortgage on my house, I brought home my re-homed delinquent kitten Sylvia (who to this day I call my “cancer-curing” kitty.) Here she is posing with all my poetry books to date.
Then I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I spent months learning to talk, walk, and swallow normally(ish) again after the damage the brain stem had sustained. This changed the book – it began to contain this disorientation, that I may have survived my cancer diagnosis, but now I had a different, incurable, debilitating disease. I lost words, often. But I still wrote. The book also contains documentation of the sheer weirdness of the weather and solar events of the past few years. It seemed like my body and the weather were misfiring at the same time.
Then, after Trump’s election, I felt an increased urgency – probably like many poets – to write poetry that was more political. For me, that meant writing about women that were survivors – and also women that had been oppressed, suppressed, raped, and literally burned at the stake – and what our future as women might look like. If women are going to survive the violence of men, we must change. As I write this, by the way, the news is reporting a Bellingham college student murdered, shot by an ex-boyfriend in her home. I continue to write poems. Writing under the stress of health issues, of the oppressive political climate, under the stress of in the hopes that maybe these poems will make things better for others.
I am now sending both books out to publishers. I am hoping to get a great publisher, with great distribution, with more marketing firepower, who sends books in to the big prizes (you may not know this, but many poets from very small presses don’t have a shot at the big prizes because they can’t afford the fees or the copies.) I want to get these books out into the world soon. The urgency my health struggles has given me about publishing has never let up. I want to get them out in my lifetime, which lately, has seemed sort of a fragile ideal, or at least one I can’t count on 100 percent. It’s been almost exactly three years since my last book of poetry, Field Guide to the End of the World, came out. Even if a big publisher decided to take one of my books tonight, it almost certainly wouldn’t be out for another year.
And getting published in a tough business. Poets right now are sending out their work, paying contest and reading fees of up to $30 a pop. Lots of them. I know some of them, and they are great poets. There is so much great work out there, so many poets hoping to be read. You just have to send out your work and hope it speaks to a publisher at the time you’re sending it. No one is guaranteed anything in the poetry world. I hope my work finds its way to a publisher and an audience. Today I will send out my books again. I will continue to hope.
Taking the Fall, A Few Thoughts on that Utne Poetry Essay, and Poetry Reviews, Sales, and Empowerment
- At August 03, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
1
Taking the Fall
Welcome to August, everyone! A beautiful time for flowers (dahlias! sunflowers! last roses!) but not a great time for me. MS symptoms like to act up in the heat, and I’ve spent time in the hospital the last two years in August. This last week we’ve had temps up to ninety degree, and on one of the hotter days, getting in and out of the car on the way home from physical therapy, I lost my bearings and fell hard into the sharp edge of the car door, which banged up my arm pretty good from shoulder to hand. Glenn and my physical therapist both also mentioned that I’ve been shaking uncontrollably in the hands, feet, and face. Not good.
But I try to learn lessons. For instance, a low-slung sedan with limited trunk/back seat space is probably not a great car for someone with balance problems, vertigo, and a wheelchair. So Glenn and I will be trading in our old sedan (2010! How is my car nine years old already?) for a car more appropriate for someone like me. Sigh. It hurts to acknowledge the changes in your life you make to accommodate disability. I’m “too young” for a wheelchair (does that even mean anything?) but still, with MS sometimes I need one and I need a car that can fit, say, a cooler and luggage and a wheelchair if I want to make any car trips. I don’t like having to stay inside on hot days, or days with wildfire smoke (currently from wildfires in Siberia – 7 million acres of forest on fire – and Alaska and Canada – 100,000 acres on fire.) I don’t like basically having to go into hibernation in August. On the plus side, I did find these cool “Hot Girls Pearls” (in picture) that keep you cool for thirty minutes while you’re out and about, which allowed me out long enough to do errands (or get my hair done.)
In the name of praising the beauties of summer in the Northwest (despite my increased MS symptoms,) here are a few more pictures of flowers around Woodinville:
- Dahlia Field
- Love in a Mist
- Pink Cosmos
A Few Thoughts on that Bob Hicok Poetry Essay in the Utne Review
So, I posted a couple of observations on that Utne reader Bob Hicok essay on Facebook (if you are interested, you can read the threads here) and thought I might develop further here. This is not just to pile on to Bob’s racist/sexist/privilege issues but to discuss other issues his essay brings up. I think he’s missing a few larger issues in publishing, book sales, and mindset.
- Bob has won two (!!) NEA fellowships and a Guggenheim, as well as a pretty cushy teaching gig, and has published ten books. I just, sorry, don’t feel like weeping for him because I (and most of my friends) have never had any of those things. Never been in Poetry or the New Yorker either. So, you know, he needs to check his privilege before he gets whine-y. Lots of poets have never been the flavor of the month, but Bob has had a lot of time in the sun. So it was an insensitive essay in more than one way.
- My friend Kelli is always talking about “scarcity mentality” in poetry – the feeling that because someone else gets something, you get less. She points out that it is not true, even if it feels true, and not only that, it’s destructive. I wrote a little last week about poets cheering on other poets and how important that is. It definitely makes being the poetry world more rewarding. Helping others – by mentoring or reviewing or publishing – will increase your happiness, I guarantee. Everyone feels hurt when their book doesn’t sell or get reviewed or their book or grant gets rejected – but that hurt can be mitigated.
- What Bob is lamenting – that his books sell less, that he gets fewer reviews – has nothing to do with poets of color, LGBTQ writers, or women getting more air time. It has to do with the landscape of publishing. The print book market is very fragmented, and I’d bet that most poets are selling fewer books and getting fewer reviews because there are so many books out there now. Gen Z have their own book buying tastes and habits – very different than his generation. Instagram poets, for instance. It’s not bad, just different, than it used to be. I’m sure, say, Billy Collins is still doing fine. Book publishing in general is changing. Book reviewing is in flux, too.
- Also, it seems strange to talk about how all these troublesome non-white-male poets are taking up space when most of the prestige poetry presses and journals ARE STILL RUN BY WHITE MEN. I was trying to name the poetry presses run by women and people of color – can you help me? Are they the ones most poets want to be published by with, or get good distribution? (People have mentioned: University of Akron Press, Mayapple Press, Alice James Books, Sundress, Two Sylvias Press. as presses led by women..I’d love to hear more (especially presses run by people of color?)
- Most tenure track teaching jobs are still given to men. In academia in general, women have much less chance of being offered tenure, and I’m sure poets of color and poets with disabilities could talk more about their experience with this. You’ve already lucked out if you’re an older poet with a tenured teaching job.
- I don’t know about other reviewers, but there’s a reason I like to shine a spotlight when I do reviews of poets of color, women, LGBTQ poets, and poets with disabilities. In general, these poets are more vulnerable to prejudice, so I think it’s more important that their voices are heard above the crowd.
- What am I missing? Anything else to add to the discussion?
More About Poetry Reviews, Poetry Sales, and Empowerment
So, I have been told by more than one person at a major poetry publisher that poetry reviews, Twitter followers, and such don’t always translate into poetry sales. So Bob feeling neglected may have nothing to do with his lack of book sales. I personally choose to review books that resonate with me – and because I have always felt like a little bit of an outsider, that often means books by women, poets with disabilities, LGBTQ people, and poets of color resonate more with me.
If you review books of poetry – and most poets don’t, but I consider it one of the things I can do for the poetry community – you probably want to amplify work you think is great and people that you think are great. Sometimes those things blend into each other. For instance, I probably won’t review a poet that has a reputation for being a jerk, because there’s enough of that in the poetry world, isn’t there? And there are so many kind, generous, not-terrible-human poets out there who just aren’t getting any attention. At all. They’re not winning grants of fellowships. Maybe they’re a little older, or live outside New York City, or write outside the mainstream in some way. But they’re writing interesting, accomplished work. I want to shine a light on them.
Of course, to avoid hypocrisy, I want to say I do care about winning grants, or getting into certain journals or getting books published – of course I do! Most poets don’t write so that their work can sit in obscurity. But PR for Poets was written to help poets channel their frustrations about their books not getting enough attention, or selling enough copies, into something positive – some kind of action. I wanted poets to feel empowered in a process – and a world – that can often seem disorientating and powerless to the participants. It’s best to focus on things you can control – whether we’re talking about MS symptoms or the poetry world – than things you can’t.
What do you do to feel empowered rather than peeved by the poetry world? I’d love to hear from you in the comments!
Summertime Blues, Poems for Replicants, Game of Thrones Poetry and Other Mysteries in the new Pine Hill Review, and Poets Cheering for Other Poets
- At July 27, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
1
Summertime Blues?
Is this a thing for you? The heat wave that slammed most of America finally hit us here in Seattle. We’ve had days in the high eighties and even low nineties in the last week, which means I’ve wilted and napped and generally felt out of it. I’ve been the opposite of productive. Even my sunflowers were wilting! I snapped this on a day Mt. Rainier was out (some days it was too hazy to appear) and the wildflowers looked so bright and beautiful. In Seattle, we don’t have that many sunny days, so you do feel guilty for “missing out” or cancelling plans (I had to cancel almost everything this week, but most of my things were medical tests, so really, I’m not really missing it!) You feel guilty for not windsurfing or paddleboarding or hiking a mountain. I didn’t take on any editing gigs and couldn’t do even menial mental tasks. I think summertime for some people comes with an opposite sort of seasonal effective disorder. You may not know this about me unless you see the secret codes in my poetry, but I am truly allergic to the sun – hives, fever, the whole bit. (Hence my extraordinary amount of pallor! I call my foundation shade “Corpsey.”) And MS symptoms are worsened by heat. I have to make peace with some amount of down time in the summer as a type A person with these problems. What about you? Do you embrace the summer heat or does it slow you down? Personally, I am counting down the days til September!
Game of Thrones Poetry and More Mysteries in the New Issue of Pine Hills Review
I am very happy to have three poems in the new issue of Pine Hills Review, which the editors included some cool associated art work. I have written a series of poems about Daenerys (often associated with Joan of Arc mythology) and this includes one of them, as well as a poem tribute to a SyFy original murder comedy movie. So, see? Aren’t you curious? The whole issue is really fun to read, and a little offbeat, which I have to say is welcome in the poetry world Here’s a sneak peek at my Daenerys/Joan of Arc/with a little bit of me poem:
Poems for Replicants
This week saw the death of another icon of my childhood, Rutger Hauer, who played the main villain (a sympathetic replicant/robot) in Blade Runner, the villain in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, the love interest in Ladyhawke, among other roles. The SFPA had put out a call for haiku on replicants in June, and I happened to find out I received the SFPA President’s Pick Award for my little scifiku. I have a little origami unicorn pin to remind me of the genius of the original Blade Runner and its source material, Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? So I thought it would be a good time to post my little piece:
Poets Cheering for Other Poets
I was talking to a couple of poet friends lately about women poets, in particular, supporting other poets. I think I have a bunch of very supportive poet friends. I was talking to a friend about reading the complete letters and journals of Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf this year. (Um, one of my friends suggesting my reading material and the blues might possibly be related? Could be!) But I did learn something from both women – both truly talented and accomplished writers who did take their own lives – about some secrets of success. Virginia Woolf – who struggled with both physical and mental health issues her whole life – was most productive around my age – her late forties. That’s encouraging in a society that often focuses on “thirty under thirty.” I mean, she was struggling, but she wrote like a fiend, some of her best work.
Part of Virginia Woolf’s success certainly came from a strong circle of artistic friends – she was famous for it – and I was talking to a poet friend today about the importance of having other writers to bounce our good news, bad news, new writing, or just general life things off of. We need someone who understands the particular despair of a bad review or a long cycle of rejection, or the elation of a good review or a particularly exciting acceptance. I was also buoyed by her marriage, strangely enough – though she was famous for writing her husband a rejection letter so cold – admitting her lack of physical attraction to him – but it seems that the marriage was one that worked, despite affairs (mostly on her part) – that she and her husband absolutely loved each other throughout thick and thin, sort of an antidote for the more bleak tale of Sylvia and Ted Hughes’ terrible marriage. And by the way, if Virginia Woolf left you cold in college, I suggest re-reading as an older reader, particularly in tandem with her journals and letters. I found them so much more enriching this time around, and think I understood not only her methods of writing but why she chose to write about the characters she did.
Anyway, I think that the old “writer is an island” myth is just that – a myth. Writers thrive with the support and help of other writers, and the support and help of spouses and family members and friends. I hope I help other writers and support their work with friendship, or reviews, or maybe even just liking an Instagram post. All of us – every one of us – will need encouragement and support at some point in their life. So if we can build a circle of artists, and musicians, and yes, other writers that we trust and that we support, it might not only enrich your life but your art. No matter how famous (or not) a writer gets, they could all use one more positive word, slap on the back, a little support. Let’s build a kinder artistic world when we can.
A 25th Anniversary with Waterfalls and Mountains and How MS Can Limit Your Hiking (But Not Your Love of Nature)
- At July 10, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
3
25th Anniversary with Mountains and Waterfalls
This year for our Silver Wedding Anniversary (!!) we decided to spend it in one of my favorite places, Snoqualmie Falls and Ollalie State Park. We drove up, stopped by the Snofalls Lavender Farm on the way up, spent the night at Salish Lodge so we could hike to the big falls, stop at some Twin Peaks spots, go up to another State Park and waterfall and come back and watch the sunset AND moonset over the Snoqualmie Falls. It was beautiful, and it was raining immediately before and after our stay, so we felt really lucky.
- Glenn and I at Snoqualmie Falls in the morning
- Bubbly in the room 🙂
- Glenn and I at sunset
- My portrait of Glenn at sunset
- Glenn and I at the falls at dusk
- Me at the Lavender Farm
How MS Can Limit Your Hiking (But Not Your Love of Nature)
One of my “secret” beautiful spots in Washington State – because any Twin Peaks fan knows about Snoqualmie Falls – is the Weeks Falls at Ollalie State Park, just a few miles up the road. It has a beautiful forest trail with gigantic trees along the Snoqualmie River. Almost no one is ever there when we visit, so you feel like you’re totally alone – sure, it can feel a bit like “I could be murdered in the woods or eaten by a bear and no one would find the body for a while” but there’s also something wonderful about being alone in nature.
Now, the last time I was there I hadn’t yet started to have my major MS symptoms, and I remember it being a fairly easy stroll from the parking lot to the hiking trail and then to the waterfall. This time, I definitely needed a cane – and then, my “off-road” wheelchair to make it to all my favorite spots. It occurred to me how accessible Snoqualmie Falls is – there are lots of stairs, but also lots of ramps – compared to most of the beautiful mountain spots in Washington. Being around trees and waterfalls helps my soul feel happy – and I wanted to share that it took some additional modifications (ahem, off-roading wheels added by my husband to my wheelchair) and a little more work – but I could still literally hug a tree and watch the river jumping with fish while the spray of the waterfall hit me.
I think it’s easy, when you have MS, to not go out in nature as often because it takes some advance planning and some help. But for me it’s worth the effort. Being in the woods brings me more clarity. I like taking time off from technology for a bit and thinking about life and milestones around a roaring river and old trees. It’s a great place for deep thoughts. There’s no way you can’t feel happier around trees and waterfalls. It’s a fact. It’s the kind of place where you start bursting into song like a freaking Disney princess.
- Glenn and I at Ollalie State Park
- Me at Weeks Falls
- Light in the forest
So, all in all, an inspiring and romantic escape in between the rain that’s been surprising newcomers to Seattle (in the old days, July was always a little dreary.) I was happy I could still get into the forest and fields of flowers and the various waterfalls and celebrate 25 years of marriage in a fantastic setting. The night we stayed over, the moon glowed a pinkish orange, and it set at about 1 in the morning, and we watched it go down, and the stars were so bright. Pretty magical. I’m lucky to be married to someone I’m still happy to be around after 25 years, in a place that’s filled with some of the best scenery in the world. So I’ve had some health issues recently, and I’ve felt a little discouraged about PoetryWorld, but I can’t deny feeling a little sunnier and a little more hopeful. I’ll have to rest for a day after all this activity, but it will have been worth it, and I feel I’m leaving the forest with more perspective.
New poems in Summer 2019’s Spoon River Poetry Review, Butterflies, Kittens, July 4 and 25th Anniversaries
- At July 03, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
3
Four New Poems in the Summer 2019 Issue of Spoon River Poetry Review
I am very excited to share that I have four poems from my newest manuscript in the Summer 2019 issue of Spoon River Poetry Review. Here’s Sylvia posing with her copy and a peek at one of the poems, “My Life Is an Accident.” The sunlight turned it blue!
Kittens, Swallowtail Butterflies, July 4, and 25th Anniversaries
Hey, you guys feeling the Fourth of July this year? Yeah, me neither. Instead of grinding our teeth over 45 spending millions on tanks (and taking it away from our parks) in our capital, let’s take a moment to enjoy the wonders of summer all around us. Swallowtail butterflies! Kittens napping next to roses cut from garden!
And if you want to do something positive on July 4, consider donating to RAICES, which helps unaccompanied children and detained immigrants seeking asylum in the United States. And plant a tree and some milkweed. Feed your hummingbirds. Say hi to a neighbor. Little things that can make our country better.
Glenn and I have something to celebrate next week as well – our 25th (!!) Anniversary. We’re not doing anything that big, but it’s important to celebrate the positive things in our lives as much as mourn the bad stuff. I try not to let MS keep me from everything fun in the world (although sometimes it feels that way.) We’ll try to get out and listen to some music and have cocktails, maybe head out for a day trip to one of the lovely areas around here and get out into nature and bring a picnic. Like real people. Like we did when we were first dating.
So, we have to remember to celebrate the beauty, the kindness, the love, and the poetry in our lives. Here’s a little picture of Glenn and I twenty five years ago. They threw rose petals instead of rice. I’ve been growing roses every since.
And here’s a little Fourth of July song to cheer you up by Aimee Mann: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOYI85anqmQ
Summertime of Art Galleries, Hummingbirds, Haircuts: Self-Care During Hard Times
- At June 30, 2019
- By Jeannine Gailey
- In Blog
3
Self-Care During Hard Times: Summer Edition
You’re going to see a lot of picture of smiles, hummingbirds, art, and flowers in this post, but it’s really a post this week about coping mechanisms and the realities of self-care for writers and/or people with chronic illnesses that get worse in the summer.
I think this summer has been hard on people. The news has been pretty bleak. I’ve heard from friends going through unexpected tough times, and I have been struggling with about a month of trigeminal nerve pain, as well as regular MS symptoms that generally get worse during summer. I’m also shopping two books around, which means I’ve been getting rejections for not just my regular poetry submissions, but books as well. (PS: I am so ready to have a publisher and get going on my next book – I think it gives me energy!) There’s record heat around the world, and right now, wildfires near where several of my friends in Alaska live. So that’s where my own survival skills, self-care skills if you will, come in. Here are a few of my key coping mechanisms.
Spending Time in Nature
One reason we chose the neighborhood we did a few years back is because I wanted to be around trees and flowers, in a relatively rural area, and I wanted to be able to have a garden. Woodinville is famous for being Seattle’s wine country, but the area also has bustling fruit and flower stands, farms, and parks. I can’t walk far with my cane, but I think it’s mentally helpful for me to get out and about in nature. I like to pick fruit (thanks blueberry shrubs and strawberry plants) and cut flowers to put around the house. I like to seek out the very best corners for old-fashioned rose bowers, water features, and casual lounging around some spectacular (expensively kept up) garden for inspiration. I might not have a fancy old-school garden yet, but I always get ideas from the landscapes around me.
Practicing a Hobby You’re Not Great At – Yet
There’s something relaxing about practicing a hobby you’re not competitive with, you’re not expected to be an expert at, but that still feels like a creative outlet. I have started the practice of a little amateur photography. My favorite subject? Hummingbirds! You may have noticed that I study and watch hummingbirds a lot because they show up quite a bit on the blog.
This week I didn’t feel that I looked my best (and definitely wasn’t feeling 100 percent,) but I got out my portrait lens of my “fancy” camera (non-cell-phone) and tried my hand at a little portrait photography. People are much harder to capture than hummingbirds. The lighting, the angles, and composition are much trickier for human beings, I think. But I’m practicing because someday I’d like to be someone that could potentially take author photos for my writer friends. Here are a few of the results of this week’s practice:
- An up-close shot in blue
- Glenn at DeLille Cellars
- Another rose bower in black polka dots
I love the shot of Glenn with the lilies. I think it’s my favorite. He’s a great model!
Art Galleries, Inspiration, and Sometimes You Need to Get Your Hair Cut
Sometimes sick/disabled people put things off – like getting their hair done, or going out to an art gallery – in favor of more rest when they’re not feeling great. But sometimes making the effort to leave the house is worth it for something as trivial as a hair cut or as ambitious as getting out to a concert, the bookstore, or an art gallery. I felt a genuine lift over losing two inches of hair! And I always feel more inspired after spending time in art galleries.
I took advantage of the nice weather and lack of traffic to go check out Roq La Rue’s “Visions of Grace” show, by three local artists, Laurie Lee Brom, Syd Bee, and Kari-Lise Alexander, running through July 7. It was wonderful. Also there was a lot of cheerful rainbow flag waving along the streets in Capital Hill! I love our city sometimes.
Here are a few pieces I thought were pretty interesting. “The Sodden Hearts” by Syd Bee (very Seattle appropriate, I thought) and Kari Lee Alexander’s “The Dreams We Consume in the Depths of Our Hearts.” And an artist was in the process of covering one wall with a very cool hummingbird mural. Worth checking out!
- “Consuming Your Dreams…”
- Hummingbird mural – in progress
I always seem to write more poetry after I spend time with visual art. I’ve also got a new stack of library books – for fun, not for review – and I’ve been editing my newish book manuscript, which has called for trying to write some new poems. I’m waiting to see the new issue of Spoon River Poetry Review (which has a few of my poems in it) in the mail and for two book reviews to go up. While I’m experiencing down time, I’m also trying not to shut myself off from the world entirely. I may not be able to do as much as I want, but I still want to do the things I can do to keep my spirits and inspiration going.