these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.


my artist website is here.

Sep 11, 2009

relieved...

off and on, i toy with the idea of publication. but then i realize how new i am at this whole poetry thing. though i've been writing my entire life, it hasn't really been all that long that i've been serious about it in the "professional" sense. and so i've decided that the question of publication isn't a good one right now. it puts too much pressure on the work. far too much and it damages what i'm trying to get after- it clouds the road. it mucks everything up. besides, here in my own place i feel much safer releasing my little blurbs out in to the world. here, it's understood that perfection isn't really the point. it's more about exposure than it is refinement. and since i've decided that publication in its traditional form isn't really the way i want to go right now and that it's something to look forward to in the future, i've been writing like crazy and exploring different modes and not feeling any pressure whatsoever to make a poem be this or that or fit in with the rest. it is freeing and i feel pleased with the work and that's exactly what i'm after- a release.

3 comments:

Radish King said...

Practice is key. For writers, for anyone. I think you have nailed it. Will write more soon, recovering.


wv: surreg

Unknown said...

yes. and daily practice too. or as close to it as i can get anyway. sometimes when i'm out by myself walking around i get the best poems inside me and i have no pen and paper at the ready. i've decided it might be better that way. little poems that only exist in me for a small, fleeting moment, welled up, beautiful, and then floated off to wherever they must go.

i hope you feel better soon. :)

Unknown said...

signed on on someone else's computer. it is me. angela