Capture Summer Memories With Book.
This summer, we’re celebrating Book’s Gold IDEA win with a special discounted price of $25 (orig. $40). Capture your favorite summer memories in Paper and make a beautiful, custom-printed book right from the app.
Oh wait— Paper—>Book now? When did this happen!? BRB— got books to make…
“Race was naive enough to think that dyeing her hair was enough to alter the pigment of her name, the…”
If you’re a regular visitor, you’ll have heard me mention Alvin before. If you’re unfamiliar with his work, I’m happy for you— it means you have a joyous discovery ahead. That said, don’t delay…
- Jools Gilson-Ellis
- Pause&Consider 101: the next ten - Nicholas Bate
- Pause&Consider 101: the next ten - Nicholas Bate
Pardon my handwriting. ;)
Late night experiments with D3.js powered poetry, and a word tree tool developed by Jason Davies. Going to have to acquire some new coding skills soon. Bring it on…
“You want to be in a spot where you can respond to the world. If an idea hits you, then you can do it…”
- Frank Chimero on The Great Discontent (TGD)
“The author suggests that, in this world of limited attention spans, the serious writer may have to…”
Uh, comeback? I know poetry isn’t considered a “mainstream” concern, but comeback? Hm.
Victoria Chang, via The Believer Logger: Colin Winnette in Conversation with Victoria Chang
“For years I’ve maintained a personal credo that I’ll give pretty much any person starting out in our…”
Yes. I value my time in a different way now— it’s a more of a challenge to stay on top of all the demands— but I still do my best to support emerging literature professionals and poets wherever I can, above and beyond any of the formal relationships, roles or initiatives that I’m paid for. I’m least responsive when it comes to Facebook messages; direct email is best, but please forgive if it takes a minute for me to respond.
Also: yes. I’d be happy to hear that the people I’ve had any kind of positive impact on pay that impact forward, that they go on to support others in similar ways. You never know (unless told), but you can hope. And believe. And carry on, regardless.
“These days I write more than I code, but one of the things I miss about programming is the coder’s…”
These days I write more than I code, but one of the things I miss about programming is the coder’s high: those times when, for hours on end, I would lock my vision straight at the computer screen, trance out, and become a human-machine hybrid zipping through the virtual architecture that my co-workers and I were building. Hunger, thirst, sleepiness, and even pain all faded away while I was staring at the screen, thinking and typing, until I’d reach the point of exhaustion and it would come crashing down on me.
It was good for me, too. Coding had a smoothing, calming effect on my psyche, what I imagine meditation does to you if you master it. In his study Zen and the Brain, neuroscientist James H. Austin speaks of how one’s attention will shift into “a vacancy of utmost clarity, a space so devoid of the physical self.””
Ah. Coding. *nostalgia
“Ending his talk, Cramer has an important question for the audience: why do publishers tend to stick…”
Yes to innovation and exploring the freedoms (or new limitations?) afforded by new formats. That said, as put forward earlier in the same article: “most publishers are small, have low budgets and could not maintain these standards on a continuous basis as software quickly needs upgrading.”
What’s the kindest thing you almost did? Is your fear of insomnia stronger than your fear of what awoke you? Are bonsai cruel? Do you love what you love, or just the feeling? Your earliest memories: do you look though your young eyes, or look at your young self? Which feels worse: to know that there are people who do more with less talent, or that there are people with more talent? Do you walk on moving walkways? Should it make any difference that you knew it was wrong as you were doing it? Would you trade actual intelligence for the perception of being smarter? Why does it bother you when someone at the next table is having a conversation on a cell phone? How many years of your life would you trade for the greatest month of your life? What would you tell your father, if it were possible? Which is changing faster, your body, or your mind? Is it cruel to tell an old person his prognosis? Are you in any way angry at your phone? When you pass a storefront, do you look at what’s inside, look at your reflection, or neither? Is there anything you would die for if no one could ever know you died for it? If you could be assured that money wouldn’t make you any small bit happier, would you still want more money? What has been irrevocably spoiled for you? If your deepest secret became public, would you be forgiven? Is your best friend your kindest friend? Is it any way cruel to give a dog a name? Is there anything you feel a need to confess? You know it’s a “murder of crows” and a “wake of buzzards” but it’s a what of ravens, again? What is it about death that you’re afraid of? How does it make you feel to know that it’s an “unkindness of ravens”?
“In order to have faith in his own path, he does not need to prove that someone else’s path is wrong.”
- Paulo Coelho (via psychleanings)
“Art, be it poetry, music, sculpture, puppetry—the whole of it, inspires change on a personal level…”
- A NORMAL INTERVIEW WITH JAMAAL MAY | The Normal School: A Literary Magazine
James Victore (by Like Knows Like)
Lots of love for this series, but this particular feature on James Victore resonates. Maybe it’s the story of the artist-educator. Maybe it’s the James Joyce quote: “In the particular lies the universal”, with which I can push the poets I work with for more specificity (always more specificity…)
Or maybe it’s the acknowledgement of the need to connect with what your real drivers are and create the work that NEEDS to be created. I’ve said it to a couple of people already, but I’ve hit that five year bar. I’ve come upon a natural life cycle— every five years, I work through my project list and remove the things that are no longer in line with my current purpose. The last cull happened in 2009, so I’m about due. Make the work that NEEDS to be made. Sounds like a good driver to me…
PAUL MULDOON: I believe so. Poetry is still too often perceived as being too difficult for the common man. That’s partly because we expect to be able to read poetry without being educated in it. We don’t have the same expectations of astrophysics, aeronautical engineering, algebra or even making a passable avgolemono.
THE: What advice would you give to your younger self?
PAUL MULDOON: Don’t give up the piano lessons.
THE: What are the best and worst things about your job?
PAUL MULDOON: I have several jobs but, in terms of the teaching, I consider it a privilege to work with students. I can’t bear teachers who complain about their jobs. More often than not, they’ve no idea how lucky they are. I know it’s a truism, but I definitely learn from my students. I sometimes teach translation, for example, and I have been introduced by my students to whole swathes of literature I simply wouldn’t have known about.
- MESS : Douglas Kearney : Harriet the Blog : The Poetry Foundation