I'm at my parents in Marshalltown, Iowa. Megan, I, and the family decided to visit my parents before school starts for the boys. One thing is for certain thus far: I've seen way too many John McCain ads. I haven't seen any in Kansas City thus far but I've seen three so far today on NBC's local affiliate.
Tonight, we're having Zeno's Pizza. Travis and Hannah will be coming over. Megan and I might even catch a movie...probably Step Brothers (Will Ferrell rules). It will be a good night.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Happy Hour
I read some more Weil today and this is what I have to share (it's from her section on evil in Gravity and Grace):
"A certain inferior kind of virtue is good's degraded image, of which we have to repent, and of which it is more difficult to repent than it is of evil--The Pharisee and the Publican."
I think she meant "The Pharisee and the RePublican" but I'm not sure since she wrote this in the early 1940's. But I like to think she meant "The Pharisee and the RePublican."
I'm going to Room 39 for a little happy hour tonight. Some of the regulars from the Main Street Rag reading series (a monthly reading series and open mic night at the Writer's Place), including the host Shawn Pavey hang out there on Late Nite happy hour nights.
Mary Biddinger has a great post on writing prompts. I like prompts especially when I'm in a slump and need to stretch a little bit.
"A certain inferior kind of virtue is good's degraded image, of which we have to repent, and of which it is more difficult to repent than it is of evil--The Pharisee and the Publican."
I think she meant "The Pharisee and the RePublican" but I'm not sure since she wrote this in the early 1940's. But I like to think she meant "The Pharisee and the RePublican."
I'm going to Room 39 for a little happy hour tonight. Some of the regulars from the Main Street Rag reading series (a monthly reading series and open mic night at the Writer's Place), including the host Shawn Pavey hang out there on Late Nite happy hour nights.
Mary Biddinger has a great post on writing prompts. I like prompts especially when I'm in a slump and need to stretch a little bit.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Food Eater
I was pondering my "creative conundrum" and figured out the problem: my fascination with NASCAR, Texas Roadhouse, WWE, etc. has morphed me into a mere "food eater." The only things that satisfy me are fast cars, meat, violence, and of course beer. I work only to consume. The literary arts no longer matter to me. Perhaps I should accept the inevitable. Of course this "thought train" is fairly prejudicial and maybe a tad guilty of stereotyping.
I honestly think the longer that I have been writing the less satisfied I am with my poetry. I'm not sure if this is a common experience but I don't think I'm entirely comfortable with my declining satisfaction. And I don't mean comfortable in the sit back, prop my feet up, sip a little single malt, and watch some Battlestar Galactica sense (although that's not all that bad) but in the sense that I'm willing to reconcile the "normal" evolution in any poets (or aspiring poets) creative life: namely that over time they become less and less satisfied with their work and have to make adjustments to their mental paradigms, writing habits, aesthetics, poetics, etc. to compensate for the evolution. Perhaps this is too rigid a view? Perhaps there is no such thing as the "normal evolution of less satisfaction" or perhaps I'm taking myself too seriously.
On a less serious note. First, I went to my office to write this morning. Megan was watching Project Runway and drinking coffee at 7:00 AM. The coffee was normal but Project Runway at 7:00 AM. I didn't write.
Secondly, my mere "food eater" comment reminded me of a story about one of my colleagues at the bank I "food eat" at. A few months ago he and I went out for sushi on pay day Friday: we call it pay day sushi. He told me over sushi that he was using he and his wife's stimulus check to buy his wife new boobs. He was serious. He added that if they got a divorce she would get one and he'd get one because he paid for them. He also added that the fact that he was buying his wife a boob job with their stimulus check gave a new meaning to the phrase stimulus package. I'm serious. She got the boob job. How does one respond especially while eating sushi.
Third, I'm going to be a featured reader at the Main Street Rag reading series which is hosted at The Writer's Place in KC every third Sunday of the month. So, Brandon if your reading this mark August 17th on your calendar. Otherwise...actually Brandon, you might be the only one who reads this blog.
I honestly think the longer that I have been writing the less satisfied I am with my poetry. I'm not sure if this is a common experience but I don't think I'm entirely comfortable with my declining satisfaction. And I don't mean comfortable in the sit back, prop my feet up, sip a little single malt, and watch some Battlestar Galactica sense (although that's not all that bad) but in the sense that I'm willing to reconcile the "normal" evolution in any poets (or aspiring poets) creative life: namely that over time they become less and less satisfied with their work and have to make adjustments to their mental paradigms, writing habits, aesthetics, poetics, etc. to compensate for the evolution. Perhaps this is too rigid a view? Perhaps there is no such thing as the "normal evolution of less satisfaction" or perhaps I'm taking myself too seriously.
On a less serious note. First, I went to my office to write this morning. Megan was watching Project Runway and drinking coffee at 7:00 AM. The coffee was normal but Project Runway at 7:00 AM. I didn't write.
Secondly, my mere "food eater" comment reminded me of a story about one of my colleagues at the bank I "food eat" at. A few months ago he and I went out for sushi on pay day Friday: we call it pay day sushi. He told me over sushi that he was using he and his wife's stimulus check to buy his wife new boobs. He was serious. He added that if they got a divorce she would get one and he'd get one because he paid for them. He also added that the fact that he was buying his wife a boob job with their stimulus check gave a new meaning to the phrase stimulus package. I'm serious. She got the boob job. How does one respond especially while eating sushi.
Third, I'm going to be a featured reader at the Main Street Rag reading series which is hosted at The Writer's Place in KC every third Sunday of the month. So, Brandon if your reading this mark August 17th on your calendar. Otherwise...actually Brandon, you might be the only one who reads this blog.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Creative Conundrum
I didn't write again today. To be honest, since May 2007 I've written 27 rough drafts. Of those 27 rough drafts, I only like 5, which were all written in 2007. This means I don't like anything I've written this year.
Now my rough drafts are not complete drafts. I usually take 2 days-2 months to finish a rough draft. I put the poem aside for a few weeks and then begin the long, arduous task of revising the poem which can mean 6-10 drafts or more. I feel it's complete when I feel like I can't go an further textually and when I read the poem aloud it reads smoothly. So, I have to feel comfortable with it textually and orally. Once I reach this comfortability I usually will start submitting the poem, along with others of course, to literary journals. Of course, I have often come back to poems years later to continue minor tweaking and sometimes major overhauls. I'm obsessive like that.
So, back to my original thought: writing has sucked for the past 14 months. I don't feel comfortable with what I'm writing. I feel like I'm writing less and less. And I'm not sure what to do about. Oddly, enough my creative conundrum started when Megan and I bought our new home which leads me to a question: how does 'writing space' or 'creative space' affect a poet's productivity as a writer or to put it less capitalistically: does the space in which a poet creates poetry affect the quality of their poetry??? Hmmm...inquiring minds want to know...as do I.
I ordered 8 more 1:64 scale NASCAR cars tonight. I like to believe they're for my son Brayden.
Now my rough drafts are not complete drafts. I usually take 2 days-2 months to finish a rough draft. I put the poem aside for a few weeks and then begin the long, arduous task of revising the poem which can mean 6-10 drafts or more. I feel it's complete when I feel like I can't go an further textually and when I read the poem aloud it reads smoothly. So, I have to feel comfortable with it textually and orally. Once I reach this comfortability I usually will start submitting the poem, along with others of course, to literary journals. Of course, I have often come back to poems years later to continue minor tweaking and sometimes major overhauls. I'm obsessive like that.
So, back to my original thought: writing has sucked for the past 14 months. I don't feel comfortable with what I'm writing. I feel like I'm writing less and less. And I'm not sure what to do about. Oddly, enough my creative conundrum started when Megan and I bought our new home which leads me to a question: how does 'writing space' or 'creative space' affect a poet's productivity as a writer or to put it less capitalistically: does the space in which a poet creates poetry affect the quality of their poetry??? Hmmm...inquiring minds want to know...as do I.
I ordered 8 more 1:64 scale NASCAR cars tonight. I like to believe they're for my son Brayden.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Tid Bits
I suck at Farkle. My sons, Gavin and Elijah, essentially kick my ass every night in Farkle. Yes, every night we play games before bed except for Friday nights which is WWE Friday Night SmackDown and Saturday nights which is Naruto night.
I read a little more of Ben Lerner’s The Lichtenberg Figures (for the third time) at lunch as well as Simone Weil’s Gravity and Grace.
Recent downloads: The Moldy Peaches and Kimya Dawson. Yes, I downloaded them because of Juno, which is definitely a 4 out of 5 stars based on the Netflix rating scale, which is to say, I really like it. Michael Cera was…well…Michael Cera and he was brilliant as usual. Ellen Page was outstanding. I loved Jason Bateman. Even Jennifer Garner was pretty good.
FYI...I don't know what the fuck this blog is for.Send/Receive
I got up this morning and attempted to write. I desperately wanted to break out of a creative slump. But I was so exhausted all I could do was stare at the ceiling in my office. Typically when I get up early, take a shower, and get a cup of coffee in The Blue Moose mug I’m energized enough to sit down, listen to some music, and write. But this morning my mind was still hitting the snooze button. After a while I just sat there hitting the Send/Receive button in Outlook completely unaware of what I was doing. So, no go this morning. I feel like my “creative battery” is running low on juice and that I either need a jump start or a new battery and I’m not really sure what a new battery looks like. Regardless, I feel like I’ve been in a slump for 1 ½ years. I think its because of the damn dust mites. Megan thinks it’s because I’m lazy. The dust mites thinks it's because I don't read enough Jorie Graham.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Sunday Afternoon
I’m watching NASCAR at Pocono on ESPN. Yes, I’m kind of dorky. And if watching racing wasn’t enough to reveal my “country” side, we went to Texas Roadhouse yesterday. I love their country fried sirloin and my kids love throwing peanut shells on the ground.
It was surreal though; the waitresses had this “I didn’t sign up for those” look on their face that yielded the following internal monologue: “This is the ‘business is slow because the economy sucks’ line dance. Just keep grabbing your hips and twirling around. Look happy and dance, look happy and dance even though my tips are lower, profits are down 28.74%, and it costs me 19.32% more to drive to work because gas is going through the fucking roof. Just look happy and dance, just look happy and dance.” Of course, this is a very pessimistic monologue but I don’t care.
And that’s me on a Sunday afternoon: watching NASCAR with Ben Lerner’s The Lichtenberg Figures (I’m reading it for the third time…and I’m not sure why…probably because I like it) on my lap thinking about Texas Roadhouse while drinking Mountain Dew Code Red and occasionally flipping to Fox to check out a little Angels-Yankee’s action. What does this reveal about Jon Barrett?
Later, homemade macaroni and cheese with Brandon, Debbie, Paul, and Camilla, and of course my lovely family.
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