literarians & storytellers

tangibles vs. intangibles
The SOMOS Poetry Week continues. Last evening Nancy Ryan and Annie MacNaughton read. Annie and her late husband Peter started SOMOS over 30 years ago and created the wildly popular annual Poetry Circus that brought to Taos well known cutting edge poets who gave workshops and participated in The Main Event -- a bout set up along the lines of a boxing match: a ring, judges, bells, rounds, a glamorous ring-girl (who was often a handsome guy in gold lame, lipstick and stilletos). Back in the late 1980s I coordinated our yearly visits to Taos (before moving here) with that event. Through the years many poets have acknowledged that it was the Circus that first inspired them to write and publish their own work and it's the SOMOS programs and events that continue to support and inspire. We know that one doesn't earn a living writing poetry -- what we learned last night was that SOMOS was created not only to hear poets but to PAY them! What a concept!

The original Poetry Circus ended some years ago and SOMOS has continued on as a non-profit known as the literary heart of Taos. Series readers are paid a small fee. Contributors to publications like Chokecherries and Storied Recipes are paid in books. Additional funding is continually sought . So what does this have to do with eggs?

Last night a writer friend of SOMOS gave Annie and I each a half dozen fresh eggs from her hens. We didn't know we'd both been given this gift until we met up at the end of the readings, handbags and egg cartons in hand. In unison we said this is how we pay our poets. Not a bad deal - fresh eggs - almost as good as cash. But, eggs aside, if you, as a reader of this blog, love words, stories, poetry, contact SOMOS: somos@somostaos.org and become a member ~ or donate whatever you can afford. It's not just about Taos (writers are invited from all over the nation and beyond) it's about keeping the collective literary heart beating.

dear lady violet
There is often a connection (in my mind) between poetry, story and knitting. I started a new project (late at night after the readings) using a pattern called Lady Violet's Dinner Gauntlets. According to the designer, Kristen Ashbaugh Helmreich, they were inspired by Dame Maggie Smith's character on Downton Abbey, Lady Violet Crowley. That character is probably every DA fan's favorite. She's mine. The yarn is from Kimberley at Cat Mountain Fiber Arts in Colorado. Superwash merino, bamboo and so soft (yarngalleryonline.com). The hand-dyed color is so DA!

I may not incorporate the side ruching and optional extra frills on these mitts. I'd rather go with a more Lady Violet no-nonsense approach. She just doesn't seem the frilly type, nor am I. And I am working on sharp verbal comebacks.

This is my explanation,
my best or unique verse
my all, filling my nothing.
     (Elizabeth Bishop, excerpt from The Table)

faint echos left

What a weekend! Finally settling down to write, watch a movie, have a glass of wine. After meditation on Saturday I met up with friend Joan and we went to the Taos Fiber Marketplace at the Convention Center. Lots of yarn vendors and wearable art. We visited with friends we hadn't seen since Wool Festival in October, and bought hand-dyed yarn from Kimberly at Cat Mountain Fiber Arts in Colorado.  Admired churro wool (used for colcha embroidery) -- too coarse to knit with but perfect for yarn embroidery on woven cloth.

poetic chaos
Once home again, I prepared for the poetry reading at The SOMOS Space this afternoon -- a kickoff for poetry week. I read with Alan Macrae and Phyillis Hotch. All the while I was choosing and editing a dozen poems, Monkey Mind beat me over the head. If you don't know about Monkey Mind, it's the voice that taunts: who do you think you are? you think you're a poet? ha!! ha!! Most days I can keep that voice away, but not today. However, about 50 people showed up at the reading and it was thrilling to see the turnout and support of the literary community in Taos. We were very well received. Goodbye Monkey Mind. I'm going to try to get to the readings every evening until Friday. and MM is on its way to outer space ~ can't hear its voice anymore. Bye....and thanks for all the angst....At home, tired, we fixed a no-cook meal of dolmas, smoked salmon, olives, heritage tomatoes, basil and mozzarella, good sourdough bread (my downfall). Lovely! Worthy of a poem that I haven't written yet.

yet always the same

It started innocently enough. A few apricot blossoms beginning to open against a dramatic sky. And then the winds came, harbingers of change. A bit of snow and rain mixed....just enough to transform....

And now? Wet snow that we hope has high moisture content. The wind has stopped, the house is warm and I accomplished more today than I have in previous sunny days. It's a trip to live in the mountains and even though my east coast self has lived here for more than two decades, I'm still awed on a day like this.

As I write, at about 7 pm, snow again. Blowing horizontally. I hunker down, editing done for the day, pick up the socks I'm currently knitting, feel the absence of a fireplace in this contemporary house that doesn't have a single space in which to build one and, in a way, I long for the darkness of the night. The snow stops, thick sky curtain rises slowly, reveals mountains still there. Spring can be so tiring. The very last rays of sun about to disappear into the western horizon clear the thick sky and send rays of gold across the snowy fields.  Just a moment. That's all.

soft wool in my hands
I'm nearly finished with two pairs of socks in muted colors from Trekking and Ty-Dy. And I'm drawn to a new, loose, boyfriend/old man cardi pattern from ChicKnits that I'm considering with different yarns -- my incentive to finish.

icey window windy snow moon tangled among black flowers
the mind is water wrapping itself where it is around what what
         what
never the same
               Ikkyu

of labyrinths & manias

all about labyrinths
I've been away from this blog longer than I realized. This is a super busy month when I'm either out at events and meetings or glued to my desk. Today will incorporate both even though my energy is low, having just finished a three-day meditation/writing session. Slightly enervated this morning, I just want to fill the car's tank with fuel and drive alone to a beach house or cabin in the woods. No people, cellphone, internet ~ just notebooks, camera and yarn, pens, books to read but, alas, it's not to be, reality beckons. Well, maybe not complete reality....

This labyrinth that was under construction in December at the UNM-Taos campus and for which I helped gather rocks, has been completed. It was walked several times as we enjoyed the feeling of a weekend-empty university building.

Cold spring winds were out in full force causing lots of cloud drama and fewer outdoor writing assignments. Wind did make its way into the writings of many of the students. Also into the labyrinth of my ears, causing slight dizziness. I am susceptible to labyrinthitis. Fortunately I had one prescription Meclizine pill with me and took it. It helped to stave off the dizziness but it's why I feel the way I do today, drowsy and hungover. Worth it versus being dizzy for three days. 

Late in the afternoon it seemed a storm was coming, but this morning its all sun, wind, fast-moving clouds in blue sky again. Driving, I saw charred remains of a field where some guys were burning out the acequia (irrigation ditch) and due to the wind, lost control of the fire. It was quickly contained by the Taos fire department (four trucks were needed!). It's an alert to what may (inevitably?) come soon. Every spring fires rage in the southwest destroying homes and thousands of acres of forest land. This year we are experiencing a particularly dry winter/spring. Water levels are at 14% of what they should be. We're all experiencing stress over what might happen: drought, fire. Meditation and being in the moment is the best way to deal with anxiety and worry about the past or future but most of us still cling to the drama of anxiety.

Hopper
On Friday night we had the pleasure of meeting and talking with Tom Folsom, author of the new book, Hopper (Dennis Hopper).

The event was held at Mabel Dodge Luhan House which Hopper owned when he lived in Taos "where he spent much of his manic time". Folsom is a young and engaging speaker and a compelling writer. The book has been described as a "wild ride through Dennis's many lives." Folsom (who lives in New York) casually sat on a step in the dining room at Mabel's, told stories and read some pages from the book.

I'm looking forward to reading it and I'd take it to that mythical cabin. Here is the first line of part one: Dennis Hopper lit up a cigarette in the rich Peruvian night....I'm already drawn in.  I love what Folsom wrote in my copy of the book:

see a movie
be a movie!

still partying

Another memorable evening to write about (and my preferred form of partying). Bonnie Lee Black's new book How to Make an African Quilt: The Story of the Patchwork Project of Segou, Mali came out last week. And given how Mali is in the news these days for other disturbing reasons, this book takes a look at a facet of the country that most Americans barely know exists. For Black, her three years in Mali was a life-changing experience. A quote from the book's back cover follows:

"At the request of a talented group of Malian seamstresses, Black taught them the craft of American patchwork quilting and spearheaded an economic-development effort called the Patchwork Project....[this is] a many-layered patchwork of a book that brings that time and place ~ and all its colorful characters ~ to life on the page. Threaded throughout is the fictional narrative of Jeneba, a slave-quilter in the antebellum American South who had been kidnapped from the Kingdom of Segou as a child, as well as the real voices of the Malian women who took part in the Patchwork Project. "     

Along with two other friends, I had the pleasure of accompanying Bonnie to a reading, presentation and book signing at the Talpa Community Center where the Talpa Quilters Guild meets. We got to see, touch and learn about African mud cloth and colorful cottons. All examples are from Bonnie's personal collection.

The Malian women learned to make sock dolls and crocheted purses using strips cut from thin colorful plastic bags found everywhere in the country ~ bags discarded and blowing in the wind, caught in fences and littering the landscape. Their coin purses and bags were sold to tourists and provided money with which the women bought quilting supplies.

The quilters in Talpa are themselves a talented group and were interested to learn about women  far away in Africa who live in adobe mud homes as do so many of us in New Mexico, and who also create with fabric and needles.

let the wild rumpus begin!
Later we four women went out for salads, hamburgers, sweet potato fries, beer and Sangria! The waitress, smiling as she took our order, warned us not to "get out of hand" lol ~ and now on this snow/rain/hail/sun/wind/no-wind/apricot-blossoms-just-starting-to-bloom day, I am drinking hot tea, doing some editing work at the kitchen table, but mostly looking forward to curling up later with the book. Go out and buy it (it's on Amazon) ~ you will love it and have an experience yourself! Cheers!

go girls go!

books and flowers and friends, oh my!
Yesterday late afternoon at Brodsky Books in Taos where my friend Natalie Goldberg gave a reading and book signing for her new one "The True Secret of Writing". It was a huge (crowded) success!

The small book shop literally overflowed with people standing, sitting, and buying books faster than Rick, the owner, could check them out!

In an adjacent room Morris, co-owner and Rick's spouse, set out flowers and refreshments. Lovely! John Nichols was there, and Bonnie Black and many other writers and fans, tourists and friends. Makes one believe that independent book shops will survive in this e-age. I love my Kindle (as regular readers of this blog know) but every surface in my house is still overflowing with paper books (how does one refer to them these days? real books? regular? old-time? but e-books are real, too). I also heard that during the book tour Natalie's been on there is a feeling that with the closing of so many huge book seller chains, and in spite of the popularity of e-readers (which some research indicates has more people reading) independent book shops are doing well and new ones are opening.

and now about the clan of the sock women...
Late in the evening, a few friends gathered together and since Nat is also great collector of my handknit socks (for over 15 years) she asked me to bring them along. I don't have many at this time, but we still had a regular sockenfunfest with laughter and appreciation. Bamboo was a hit.

There was no wine (we were all driving) but I staggered out of there intoxicated by the whole evening of conversation and new friends.  When I checked my daily horoscope for yesterday it said: An evening out and about with a friend can be enlivening and inspiring. Do something unexpected or spontaneous. Just being out late was unexpected! (we Taos people of a certain age tend to long for home, our books and beds, when it's dark!).

beauty and motion

bursting energy
The conditions that prevail in early spring up here at 7500 feet aren't necessarily flowers and blossoms. We watch for other signs. Baby is ten months old now, nearly the same size as her mother and four aunties. When the weather changes, scent of rain or snow on the wind, she runs wildly, kicks up dirt, brakes, turns sharply, deliberately misses the others by inches. I can almost hear her laughing. She is a beautiful package of strength, youth and exuberance. It's not easy to catch her in my lens (don't you love those white socks!).

another cup of coffee
Recent days have been ultra busy as I meet a couple of deadlines and make final decisions this month on the 20th anniversary edition of the SOMOS anthology, Chokecherries. April and May are generally two of the busiest months of the year for me due to the annual anthology, but with a couple of other commitments thrown in, it's nearly overload. Walking in the park helps and it's what I did yesterday to clear my head and move my sedentary body -- after which I crossed the street to browse sock yarn at Moxie (no new yarns) and then spent an hour at Coffee Spot writing in my notebook.

Also finished reading the new poetry collection from Lawrence Ferlinghetti who is 94 years old and still writing and painting. In his own words, the book is "a fragmented recording of the American stream-of-consciousness, always westward streaming, a people's poetic history..." (New Directions, 2013). The cover is one of his own paintings and looks and feels like canvas.

The long poems are interspersed with prose that sweeps decades and warns about the coming of Big Brother (already here?). Ferlinghetti's prolific output makes me hopeful for those of us who are piling on the years. I'm sure he would say: keep working! never stop creating! One of his poems will be included this year in Chokecherries and I'm excited! I met him several years ago in San Francisco at City Lights Books. I was with my BB friend whose stepfather, Peter Martin, founded the shop with him decades ago. LF was in his late 80s at the time I met him and he had a flirty sparkle in his blue eyes. We had a brief conversation and I've never quite forgotten the intensity of those eyes. The anthology will be out in early July and I'll keep you all informed. Meanwhile, go out and buy his book now.

Outside, a light rain descends on the city, silencing everything. It is as if silence itself were contained in the soft rain. Umbrellas blossom in it. There is a hush along the boulevards as it comes down.
(Lawrence Ferlinghetti, excerpt from "IV" in Time of Useful Consciousness)