Indeterminacy

The last few weeks I’ve been going to see some Clas­si­cal on Sun­day morn­ings. Sort of. The group who puts it on, Sun­day Chat­ter, fea­tures a poet, and at the start of the month, my boy J.W. Basillo fea­tured. And wouldn’t you know it: they’re doing a Steve Reich cel­e­bra­tion. I love Steve Reich; I’ve been jam­ming to “Proverb” and “Piano Phase” for years. “Marimba Phase” live was sick. So what an awe­some sur­prise last Sun­day to see a hand­ful of John Cage pieces in the mix. If you know any­thing about Cage, it’s prob­a­bly that he’s the lov­able ass­hole who gave us 4’33″. If you’re not famil­iar, the piece was first per­formed like this: pianist…

One eye on the road

If I’ve been elu­sive here, it’s not because I don’t care. Tra­di­tion­ally, I’ve used this space to talk about (and some­times process) the ques­tions that emerge writ­ing this end­less book. Some­how I’ve painted myself into an academic-​​colored cor­ner. That’s chang­ing. In fact, a lot of things are gonna change round these parts.

Baiting the Chase

Most of 2011, I’ve been rolling a stone up a hill, and it’s soon to hit the top. Which means no more push­ing – but also no brakes. I sense this is hap­pen­ing all over – not only in my phys­i­cal, eco­nomic, inter­per­sonal day-​​to-​​day, but in poems, in dreams. If you wanna know the happs, here it is.

Developments

In which my design/​writing port­fo­lio goes live, my strange fea­ture in Man­ches­ter leaves me burned out on poetry, my research has gone off the rails – and two very sig­nif­i­cant forces are poised to haul it back on track.

Stylized Speak

After three weeks of Bill Comp­ton stammer-​​blathering about lady­like pro­pri­ety, I’m some­how still inter­ested in styl­ized speech. Rather, how prob­lem­atic it is in the his­tory books. This isn’t exactly a com­plaint – more a lament. And one with­out a tidy answer.

The Purpose of Stories, 3

Let’s take this dis­cus­sion back to the book. I’ve thought a lot about porta­bil­ity lately, and even about own­er­ship of words. Maybe the only way the story I’m writ­ing will sur­vive its book­ness is for me to release it entirely. My ver­sion of the story is just one. Yours will be next.

Time Capsules

An orphan from the lec­ture I’ll deliver Sun­day at 3:00: We devel­oped our need and knack for sto­ry­telling by pass­ing sto­ries over gen­er­a­tions. Over time, a story gets stripped to its nec­es­sary ele­ments. It becomes portable. I’ve started won­der­ing lately if the sto­ries we write, includ­ing mine, are too com­plex for their own good. Too com­plex for portability.

Breakthroughs

Every­thing the speaker of Estu­ary writes is in present tense. Every­thing. Do you real­ize how creepy that is? Really. Try it. This has the ring of a strong styl­iz­ing that will lead to some­thing more pre­cise, but for now, creepy. Also, she appears to speak in two-​​columned prose. This comes on the heels of another major breakthrough…

Gift Horse to Mouth:

Do you ever worry that by indulging a glass of wine in the after­noon, the edge you’re tak­ing off is actu­ally very impor­tant? Like, there goes your drive to fin­ish any­thing at all, for the rest of the day?

Very Important Statement

The bur­dens of force-​​fitting lift when you real­ize who’s who (and thus who’s falling for whom). One degree shifts on the kalei­do­scope; align­ment; the six-​​month headache of extra­ne­ous char­ac­ters was never there.

Chekhov’s Gun: +1.