A. Anupama
My daughter told me that fear is a good thing to have because it makes people focus and learn and achieve. She is thirteen years old, and this is her personal experience, so far. I think that she will understand eventually that there are detrimental complications within fear, but, because I'm busily shielding her from…
It's a good day for a reblog of this list, in my slightly sardonic voice here, of reasons to give poetry books as holiday gifts. The shortest shortcut to peace is poetry. 'Tis the season... Top 20 reasons to give poetry books as gifts #20 - Won’t go out of fashion (because it isn’t fashionable…
I had forgotten about the way I kept “teaching shoes” in my car after this year-and-a-half in virtual classrooms. It’s so good to be with students, in living presence, and there’s no equivalent for it. Now that the school semester is fully underway, most of my thought and energy is in the lectures, discussions, assignments.…
A tree laid its crown on the ground, mindful of the saplings nearby, mindful to lay it across the meadow somehow, away from the sculptures. Now an attentive ear much taller than a poet stays cocked at the side of the footpath: an enormous ellipse of tangled root, rock, and earth. On a bright morning…
There are moments I don’t photograph or write about, though they are worthy of a creative expression. Maybe that’s partly why I took up painting and guitar this year, to see if more angles of approach could widen my praise of life. But it hasn’t really changed the level of silence I keep. A blue…
I should know better than to look at social media on my phone while still half asleep in bed in the morning. But I do sometimes, probably because the intensity of the collective pain to be found there helps to efface my own restless, anxious dreams. Sometimes it just amplifies them though, as yesterday when…
Painting while listening to virtual programs on Zoom, Crowdcast, Vimeo, Coursera and other platforms has given me a new appreciation for those students who sketch and doodle in my classes. I’m not sure if my topics ever influence their artwork, but I know I find interweavings in my experiences of observing sound while engaged in…
The clouds glance down and move off in great billows this afternoon, and I’m reviewing notes for the creative writing course I’ll be teaching again. It’s a busyness that I like, even though it’s really summer’s end when I do this. I had so many ideas at the beginning of summer, but now it’s all…
Our dogwood tree has already set its fists for next spring’s blossoms. I don’t want to believe that autumn is so near. But I try to convince myself of the truth with a painting. I wanted to copy the beautiful tree in the center of this folio page, which was painted in Herat in the…
If suns grew in a field together, would they get along? If stars fell into fields, would we memorialize them? If the crescent moon mowed the field, what kind of hay would that make? Poems are made of heat, light, consciousness. On a hot day in August like this, maybe poems get lost. Maybe in…
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