cixous

"the pathfinder is that unknown thing that is, at the same time, the most known thing: that black spot in the distance amid the murky maelstrom of the blizzard toward which, as [tsvetaeva] says so beautifully, 'poets will walk without thinking as if walking home.'"

"the mysteries we need are those that have been lost: these only resurface as something reopens."

hc, the school of dreams

and this, which is my favorite thing to look at right now:

in the world today
there is
no world so attached as i am
to worlds.

from j. ceravolo, note from st. francis

sunday

this is what it looked like from my bedroom window a few days ago

here is what it looks like today

it was a nice sunday. i went to two parks.

i'm reading some fairy tales for selah's fairy tale class and macbeth for a shakespeare seminar and helene cixous for a workshop. and the new octopus, with song reviews that make you go out of your head! oh, and seth landman's chapbook, the wild hawk the sea, which is incredible. here is a poem so you can feel how this is true:

coffin

there is nothing. there is your city.
right there, the streets out of sight.
call me a little, pausing funeral; hats off
to the feet set going, the chief element of landscape.
there is nothing. there is the roasted river
when i go, a hand on the universal shoulder
in the face of invisible surveillance, secret dogs,
unaccountable influences. there is nothing
in not ignoring it. what is good? my curiosity
sways on an island with sounds. things with seas.
quick and still with wild, inmost, endless,
grand disguises. i am here exactly on this
stage, and there is nothing looming
in the world like snow on the hill in the air.

snow, please snow day, snow

seabear

i like this seabear video now.

and part of this poem by joseph ceravolo:

tell us where o eat to stop and eat.
the diner is never gonna come.
the forest things are passing.
i did drink my milk
like a mother of wolves.
wolves on the desert
of ice cold love, of
fireproof breasts and the breast
i took like snow.
following me
i love you
and i fall beyond
and i eat you like a
bow and arrow withering in the
         desert.

st. patrick's day

people don't celebrate spd on spd in denver. the parade happens the weekend before, and on march 17 there really isn't indication that it's here. we spent some time trying to find eldorado canyon state park, but really just driving around slushy mountain roads. and then i went to the park and drank beer in the sun. and then i went to a furniture store. and finally, a very crowded bar.

near gross reservoir

oh, two days ago, j, a, and i found this hidden beach behind a mall. we kept thinking other pieces of sand were the beach. and then we found the real beach.

knock knock

who's there?

bicycle.

bicycle who?

this is a picture of my bicycle by some water at wash park. when i was there i saw a dog go for a long swim and she looked like a seal. her name was tina. her person kept saying, tina come here but she didn't. she was swimming with geese instead.

it was a perfect saturday. the park was filled with dogs and bicycles.

on the way home i found this very pretty mannequin by someone's door. i think she was selling perfume. or maybe some kind of documents.

later, i went to food not bombs with j and d.

this bicycle was there.

d got to eat eggs. and a man forced upon us a pencil.

i found that one lady's friend, but her face isn't done.

cabinets of curiosity

these are pieces from the projects of students in the creative writing class i was teaching this quarter. it revolved around the idea of curiosity and culminated in the collection of curiosities into a display space.

denver with clouds

In A Dream

In A Dream is the best movie.

it's about the artist isaiah zagar. i want to live in his house.

here are some pics from when we visited his art:

this week i feel like this