9 September 2013
It’s a miracle. It’s 11:30 in the morning, I’ve been up and ready for the day since about 10am. I have gotten work done. I am feeling inspired. I am feeling encouraged. I am feeling ready to produce work.
ModPo is a godsend.
I hate to admit that I went into it thinking I’ve already studied poetry. I don’t really need to take this, but it might be fun.
I haven’t been so wrong in a long time. It’s more than fun. It’s giving me bricks to build my life.
I wrote about it in a letter to my friend Ann this morning (I say friend, but it’s also mentor, also fellow artist, also kindred spirit):
All I did this morning was listen to the introductory video, and sit through one analysis of a Dickinson poem. And all it did was completely light a fire within me.I had a suspicion. It’s early September, which means back to school, which means that my year starts over. I’ve been walking around the city taking note of the new students who are moving in, and the amazing regenerative power of Septembers, of new academic years. I have always felt that pull. The new notebooks and the course rosters waiting to be filled up. I’ve always come at it from the side of the student, but it wasn’t until watching these course lectures this morning that I thought, yes. Yes, this is really what I want to do. This is really what it’s about.It helps that I’m reading some amazing books by Rebecca Solnit right now. She is an incredible author. But this quote in particular really hit me last week, about her life in her late-twenties:
“In those days we were exploring who we wished to become, what the world might give us, and what we might give it, and so, though we did not know it, wandering was our real work anyway.”
It makes me feel better about patching my life together in the patch-work style that it’s being built. Combined with this morning’s lecture, I felt really inspired. I felt ready to get to work, to roll up my sleeves and approach whatever work surrounds me right now in the manner of cultivation. Any of these bricks could build the road that leads to my future. I shouldn’t feel daunted that there are only a few bricks so far. A brick is a brick. A step is a step.
Am I inclined to climb