Enga mellom fjella

Ramblings from my journal

ME:

The 4th: Rent is paid! So glad to run into the landlord. Should check my bank account balance though before he cashes the check so I know where I stand. Same with the other accounts. I should just "know" for knowing's sake.

Went to a lecture by Moody at the university. Took notes on revision:

1. omit needless words.
2. sacrifice your modifiers (adjectives, especially adverbs).
3. consider the rhythm. Use a mix of sentence types (simple, compound, complex, compound-complex, fragments and run-ons...).
4. eliminate BE/HAVE.
5. simplify tense; commit to a tense.
6. spill your parentheticals.
7. avoid alliteration (in prose).
8. rethink abstraction. Adhere to who/what/where/when.
9. use figurative language sparingly (similes); shed insight in a different way. If using metaphor, provide distance.
10. engage all 5 senses.
11. cut the last sentence.
12. read the passage out loud.
13. put the draft away.
14. read the above 12-20 times.

Did blog and facebook at the UM library (one hour limit) and later went downtown for 1st Friday art events. Noteworthy had 4-5 students reading (at the same time) with displayed artwork. Ladypajamas' work was collage and acrylic/ink. Met her friend Pam. Talked to the artist of a clown-painting exhibit at Butterfly Herbs by Skype. Very cool and the hotdogs and popcorn were wonderful. Spoke with the artist at Dana's Gallery in Spanish (found out later que êle fala português tambem) about his cityscapes of Mexico. Was awed by Siler's acrylics at the Architecture shop and realized I could write poetry to the open North Dakota landscape photography of Brian Herbel at Studio D.

http:www.brianherbelphotography.com

Saw friends in various places: Erik, Hobie, Jaime...

The 5th:

Not much to report: took a walk along the Clark Fork to the dog park. Took photos. Melting slush, rivulets of water, "green" patches of grass, blue sky, white clouds and snow... bright when the sun peeked through. Beautiful. Cool but not cold. 30s.

Read poems in Costa Rican Spanish at Bernice's. Used my LaRousse to look up words.

At home, ate rice and black beans ...at least it was edible.

Had a hard time waking up in the morning and no motivation the rest of the day. I'm just an empty shell in some ways. Spring (as in longer, brighter, milder days) can't get here soon enough. Wet = mud; but mud is better than ice slicks.

Gas = $3.09/gallon; milk = 2.99/gallon. We are luckier here than many places.

I daydreamed about meeting up with a friend in Niagara Falls. Never a good sign when my mind is drifting that direction. Maybe some day we'll meet again, but it's not good for me to dwell on it.

The 6th:

Sun came up early, came out bright. I stumbled to the lavatory, lay back down. Lost morning, a drooping flag, late winter's feeble but waxing light.

Anything would be better than doing nothing. I'm juggling balls of air ...and Death flies among them light as a feather. To hold one dream sphere and do something would awaken me. But I'm lost in the beauty of spinning thoughts, forgetting my feet are stuck in the muck, sinking into the grave.

movement
one feather falling
now still

Read Alex's piece in Orion, "Queer Ecology". Very well put. 1. Nature and man are not separate. 2. What is natural is natural regardless of our emotional categorizing response. 3. Humans like unnatural order, an "us versus them", rules that fight against nature itself. Alex needs to be read by those who believe in "Natural Law" as an excuse to simplify the overwhelming complexity of being alive, and in so doing marginalize whole populations of sentient and non-sentient beings.

IMHO, if Earth were an orange then we are definitely the green slime that lives on the rind. And humans? Slime that jumps like fleas. We've been to the Moon and we seek to spread our infestation. The Earth is our mother; we are her spawn and spores.

Dreamt: a flock of low-flying crested birds (like a kingfisher or titmouse) with iridescent feathers, almost rainbow, deep blacks of red, purple, green... Caught up with one at the end of the V --- told me he was going to Italy. Then we lost sight of the flock. I didn't know how to help my tufted friend.

Indecision is crippling me.

Spoke to my mother. Daylight time starts when? At 5:55 pm it's still very light out. Spoke to my aunt in North Carolina. East coast is stormy and wet. Here? 34ºF --- partly sunny.

At Top Hat I wonder why it is necessary to introduce someone by all the awards they have won... hmm. Suttlefield makes a point about stories vindicating or being vindictive (my words) when fictionalizing old memories. He read a short story taking place around Ontario, Oregon. Good crowd. Great venue and audience for storytelling.

A muse: We write our stories, engrave them on our mind, then edit them, each revision straying further from the truth. What truth remains of our childhood by the time we enter university, what memories of juvenile indiscretion thrill us when we can no longer do what we once did? What is lost and gained in the retelling to ourselves or others. Why not write it down, move on? Boredom and drama deserve to sitting side-by-each on a shelf. I must keep eyes open, ears ready. There are new stories to be uncovered or merely lived through.

The 7th:

Sun in the morning, snowflakes, now sun again. The day is not over yet!

As for above... this is edited from my journal. Some parts can be reworked into a future piece of writing. My journal rambles... whatever is on my mind is fair game for inclusion.

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