sabrinamari: (Leaf on the wave)
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sabrinamari: (Things can go pear-shaped...)
Thank gods I never throw any of my preliminary analyses away. The person who edited this manuscript is the most literal-minded demon I have ever encountered. She is asking for all kinds of excess painstaking detail as she carefully edits away every moment of creativity and flow from this manuscript.

*headdesk*

By the time this thing got to her, it had two sad surviving metaphors left. The first made its home in the title, making it a little more exciting than, say, an old dead rat. The editor's first act was to slash that poor thing, rendering the title as blank and bland as humanly possible.

She left the other one alone, but only because it was part of an informant's direct quote. I guess it's OK for study participants to offer up a few flickers of creativity, as long as this deadly threat to the temple of logic is safely contained and kept at a distance from the bulk of the text itself.

Gods. I just want to tie her to a chair and force her to listen to the entire audiobook version of "One Hundred Years of Solitude".


sabrinamari: (Default)
This was a good weekend. I'm starting to relax a little bit, I think. I spent yesterday morning at a Beginning Meditation workshop. It gave me an opportunity to review the material so that I can teach it at the Philly East Coast gather. Then I was able to dash to Wild Oats and pick up the last of the groceries and fill the car with gas.

I made it home perhaps 40 minutes after it had started to snow and snuggled in. Saturday night I walked to Karen and Tom's in the snow and loved the experience. The powdery surface magically reflected the glow of the street lamps and I was enchanted by the softness of it. Walking alone through the snow was beautiful, and I took my time and drank it in. i even stopped to play a little, and I uncovered my car and Shannon's car from the pure sheer joy of being outside in such a glittering world of night. This is pretty unusual for me lately; I tend to recoil from the cold. But I was very bundled up, and that helped alot. I think I just felt...good...and that helps a great deal, too.

My evening with Tom, Karen, Karen's sister Lou and Lou's boyfriend Paul was wonderful. We talked and laughed and I began to plan my next journey to England. The world is open, and I can do whatever I like in it. I'd like to start traveling again, and work towards my long-time goal of living in Britain for at least a year in order to experience Europe and have a home base from which to take frequent shorter trips---that way I can explore the whole of Europe much more easily.

Today I meant to set up my printer, but instead slept late, worked out, napped and cleaned house. Now it's pretty late to start working on the computer, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow night. That's OK.

Shannon made the most delicious vegetable soup I've ever tasted this weekend, and she made enough for the coming week. It's loosely based on a weight Watchers "No Points Soup" recipe, but it has the most varied and exciting mouth feel...lots of okra, cherry tomatoes, Yukon Gold potatoes, green beans, peas...mmmmm! And she made bread on the breadmaker! Yum!

OK, time for HBO's Carnivale, my weekly dose of magical realism.
sabrinamari: (Default)
"The fact is that poetry is not the books in the library...Poetry is the encounter of the reader with the book, the discovery of the book."

"There are people who barely feel poetry, and they are generally dedicated to teaching it."

(Lecture entitled "Poetry" 1977)



"That Falklands thing was a fight between two bald men over a comb."

(14 February 1983, Time Magazine)

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sabrinamari

June 2012

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