Joseph Joubert said that.
My glasses broke in the same place again last night. I re superglued them, and re-binder-clipped them and, for better or worse, have been walking around wearing them with the binder clip attached. It’s not exactly electrical tape on the bridge, but….there is definitely a nerdly effect. Still, the binder clip does the job well. Really, I ought to try to find a sculptor here at VSC who could solder it for me — that’s what it really needs.
I walked to the post office this morning to drop off three more packets of poems I’m sending to journals; also did a couple more electronic submissions last night before retiring to the porch for whiskey and a few good laughs. On the way back from the P.O. I finally stopped in Ebenezer Books and bought Marilyn Hacker’s latest book, Names. She’ll be a visiting writer here next month and I’m really excited to meet her and to hear her read again. I also bought some chocolate for later — banana walnut milk chocolate bar. I think I’ll use it as some kind of reward system connected to tinkering more with my new chapbook manuscript. Fellow resident poet Karen and I swapped chapbook drafts and had a great conversation & feedback session after breakfast this morning. She was so helpful, and now I feel like I have the impetus to take the next steps. Not even noon yet, and already feeling good about writing work today.
Last night was the first resident reading and I really enjoyed it. I enjoyed something about each of the brief readings (Gary Clark referred to it as “literary tapas” — appropriate on the day Spain won the World Cup). I look forward to hearing/reading more over the next three weeks. Last night’s readers included Lenore Shapiro, Susan Lilley, Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno, Sean Patrick Hill, Michelle Brown, Rasma Haidri, and Angela Graziano.
They’re really banging on the bridge today — might have to hide out elsewhere from the noise. And yet… I don’t want to miss out on Roxanne’s big dance.
1 thought on ““Words, like eyeglasses, blur everything that they do not make clear.””
Whenever I picture you, it’s with a packet of poems in your hand, and several more packets tucked under your arm. Add the thought of you with binder-clipped glasses, and the nerdiness is complete — or perhaps that’s wordsmithyness.