Resolute

I'm a late bloomer a slow mover despite my long legs which make me appear to be moving around quickly. It takes me forever to get to things, I feel like I have been waiting for something big to happen that will compel me to act and act quickly but it's not really happening. My resolution this year is to finish a couple of major projects that have been hanging around. One is a story about the day my mother died. It's been 15 years and I have multiple drafts, the most recent one I wrote over Thanksgiving break about 3 years ago. I just reread it this morning and I can see where it can be improved. The question that arises for me is when to work on this and when to make it happen. When will I get down to work, when will I stop writing about writing and simply write. Reading the piece is hard, it has flaws, and it is sad for me to read. I think my writing has actually improved a bit in the last few years thanks to this blog and also to all the books I have been reading. I am more critical than I used to be and so I must be careful not to feel like it's all shit and then be left with nothing. Instead I think I have to go piece by piece, word by word and rework it slowly but with an end in mind. If any of you are interested in being a reader, let me know and I will send a draft along for you to read and comment on. Help me out of my writing adolescence. I will get it done and then I can move on to the next project.

Focus

I wish I was more focused, so I could just think
of one thing at a time forever like a person
I once heard on the radio who studied
wasps his whole life. The insects not the people
white anglo-saxon protestants who can't be hugged
or seen naked, or dancing. One thing your whole life
without deviation or let up. So I think what if I
stopped trying to do anything but eat sleep breathe
dream screw work and forget everything else
cars hats cats trees dishes dancing sewing seeing
would it be easier better? Or would I wake up
one day and be empty of leaves beads candles
glasses shirts patterns wool with no way to do
my work because all the little pieces of desire
my desire to try everything taste it and smell it
touch it is what makes my work my work and focus
is not one thing but everything. Wasps are everywhere
the insects and the people doing their waspish dances
naked and alive focused and not, making and doing
building mud homes and mud ovens because they
are driven mad if they don't and that is worse not
better than any single idea I could have to hold hard
cold fast and forever.

New newness

Happy new year to all. As I empty the crumbs from my keyboard while my bowel expands and contracts from overuse I feel positive and quite vibrant despite two weeks of bodily abuse. Even though I felt crabby and forlorn yesterday, bored even, by my limited existence, this morning I am renewed. I have dismantled the Christmas tree and tucked away neatly all the little decorations and this activity has strengthened me even more. Managing ones own chaos is so very good for the soul. Things are not perfect, were they ever? It doesn't matter. I am to forge ahead, keeping busy, keeping it light, keeping it real as they say. I like the new year, sappy as that is. The clean slate, fresh page, new notebookness of it is inspiring.