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It is the middle of the night after the second day of the Pacific University MFA program residency. So far: five crafts talks and two faculty readings, but I skipped the second student reading last night in hopes of getting a better night’s sleep. [That last is not going well. I should not be awake.]…
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I am in Forest Grove, Gary too far away. This week is the residency of the Pacific University MFA program, my alma mater. I am the emcee for the seven evening faculty readings. The faculty are astonishing and wonderful, the reading last night was wonderful, and I am filled with wonder.
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Peltier was imprisoned nearly five decades ago for murdering an FBI agent. There was and remains serious doubt about his guilt. His release is supported not only by Native peoples but by the prosecutor in charge of trying him in the 1970s.
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I am reading poetry by Danusha Laméris. The first volume chosen by Naomi Shihab Nye, The Moons of August and her second Bonfire Opera. I ordered these chapbooks after reading one of Lameris’s poems, “Incha’Allah.”
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Most days Gary and I go out early, but this morning I slept in—going on six when I woke, which is sleeping in for me. We went out for our walk just before seven, which is late for us. We like to get out early to avoid visiting dogs. Really, we go out early because…
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First, I concede that I possess the arrogance of a person with experience. This is tempered by the many things I don’t know or how to do—many more unknowns than knowns. Even so, there are things I have been doing regularly for decades. I may not be the best or perfect at doing all those…
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The latest research claims that “learning styles” are a myth but that reading aloud to one another is a good thing. I have to wonder sometimes if educational researchers ever consider their own biases? Gary worried, when he brought me these stems, that they were bamboo from our neighbors’ ugly bamboo hedge. I think: No.…
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Today, at least where I live, was a day to honor mothers. My mother and my husband’s mother have left the planet, as Gary says. Our fathers too, both of lung cancer, both Camels smokers, both veterans. His father died on Mother’s Day 1979. I want to say something about mothering, because whoever birthed the…
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Running on the highway, I once found a perfectly serviceable machete. The beach is our more common source of junk. Yesterday was easier. Gary found a commercial grade 3/4 size garbage can kicking around in the creek a little over a half mile north. We almost filled it with plastic trash, including the rubber boot,…
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This morning, I read a wonderful Brevity essay by Deborah Ann Lucas, a woman who struggled to read as a child. Her disability was never diagnosed as a child and only found out from her brothers partner as an adult. For years she was insecure about her abilities. The need to tell her story drove…
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