A. Anupama
Yesterday at my annual eye exam, the optometrist told me to get myself a pair of reading glasses. Here they are--inevitable lenses through which I'll have to gaze at poems and paintings from now on. I'm not complaining. My blurry vision is a reminder to me -- don't take this for granted. This is also…
When a leaf falls on your painting, you can keep on painting. And, you can write a poem to go with it. At the New York City Poetry Festival yesterday, one of the family-friendly activities hosted by the Poetry Society of New York did involve painting and writing poetry under the magnificent plane trees of…
How thirsty will we have to get? Drought looks terrible on the Hudson’s palisade, where trees have browned all along the crest. The brook in my neighborhood had dried up completely last week, but got back a trickle at least, which I noticed while walking Old Mountain Road this morning. The beech saplings alongside might…
I remember getting perfectly ticked off and putting down his novel for three months the first time I read Salman Rushdie’s work. It wasn’t because something had offended my ideas or beliefs, but that I felt as though he had played a trick on me. Designed as it was to twist expectations, I felt made…
The grace of starting something new isn’t mentioned all that much, at least, not as much as we talk about the discipline to get started or the inspiration to begin. Maybe it’s because grace is not in our control at all, unlike these other two. I'd like to acknowledge and give credit to grace itself…
My daughter and I were talking about the difference between “overwhelmed” and “whelmed” in the car while I merged onto a parkway. I think those words are close to each other but not freely interchangeable. Creative work thrives on “whelmed,” as a kind of outflow of real compassion. “Overwhelmed” seems like the crowded on-ramp, where…
Like painting with colors no one can see. Like writing a poem with one word. Like remembering a celebratory dinner only by the brilliant smiles around the table. That’s what a true heart truly likes. I started a new job as copywriter in a medical communications company this week, which prompted one of my poetry…
Midsummer nights are meant for dreams that serve to lengthen summer days. No matter how slowly the moon wanes, I don’t complain, and instead stretch to “awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth.” A jigsaw puzzle fit into our weekend do-nothing plans. I chose this fun, literary one from the New York Review of…
A tiny fawn has made a bed for itself next to the stone foundation adjacent to my porch. A week old now, and, tonight, it didn’t spring up when I came outside to water the flower boxes on the railing with my collection of begonias, verbena, dianthus, violet galaxy-streaked petunias, coleus, and mint. We have…
At least it’s beautiful when the feminine divine is completely enraged. Does someone point out the real beauty to us? Will it help us shift into what is good? My cousin sent me this viral video today— a bharatanatyam and hip-hop fusion dance. Laughing and smiling is a good break from roaring. https://youtu.be/Saj65ySCOSo This morning’s…
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