End of the Semester

So I guess it is that time of the year where everything is winding up. It seems like after Thanksgiving break everything has FLOWN by. While it seems to be relief that my other three classes are finally ending, Poetry is one class here that I will miss. I came into this class very unsure of what to expect; that is what was expected of me as far as creative writing. I was also worried about the workshop aspects as well. I found myself asking questions such as: how will people understand my poetry? Will I be able to take criticisms well? Will I grow as a writer? But after a couple of weeks of getting into the routine of writing poems about specific topics and reading published poetry, I found myself at ease with my own writing as well as interpreting other people’s poetry. One of the most beneficial aspects about this class was being able to communicate with peers about our poetry in a positive environment. Although it seemed that people were a little bit more reserved in the beginning, everyone seemed to open up very well towards the end. I do feel that I also learned firsthand from Theo about how professional writers work. This class served as a great introductory course for poetry writing, as well as creative writing.

politics of hunger

I attended the poetry reading some time ago called politics of hunger. I wasn't sure quite what to expect out of the reading and what sorts of poems people would find to fit the topic. It ended up being really interesting. I think the aspect of the reading that makes it the most memorable for me is the fact that it was on the Wednesday the day after the election. Everyone who read just could not say enough about the change that is happening and how our country is heading in a new and good direction. There was a great variety of people reading, some professors, community members, and students. There were two separate people who read in different languages, which bothered me at first because the majority of the people, myself included, couldn't understand, but I ended up liking it. These people were sharing how they felt about politics of hunger, using who they are to get it across. It also sounded really beautiful, especially if I just closed my eyes and listened. Another man went up and read an ars poetica, which is funny because we started talking about them the next day, or very soon after. I remember that he went up and said that he thinks that everyone should have an ars poetica. Well, I will have a completed one very soon.

And this is a pig you don't need to see.

My Mum sent my roommate and I a package full of little wrapped presents and chocolates. I opened one this morning and got a mini anteater named “Antsy”.
“Beatitude Anthology” is sitting on my desk as I write. It’s a bizarre old poetry book. One of my favorite stanzas:
“I dreamt
& saw her face in a hothouse sequence
kiss my loins & steam my ears .
I remember she had a big nose . O
The grief burned sadly, like the leaves
On that street in Rockville Center”
-David Meltzer
There’s a poet named simply “Jo” in the credits. She writes sweet little poems that are spread out all across the page. They’re a little cliché, but somehow sincere.
I’d really like to be an artist or a poet but 1) what if I run out of material and I can’t find the wire of inspiration ever again? 2)……
This all sounds too whiney, I’m moving on.
Instead of buying tissues, I use toilet paper rolls out of the bathroom. Antsy’s tail fits neatly into the center of the roll. His snout points straight up, sniffing my room for even tinier ants.
I wish I could leave on Monday but I think I’ll have to wait until Wednesday. I love doing laundry. I want to do everyone’s laundry on my floor. I bet I could do that in two days. The laundry rooms are always busy but I could practically live down there if I don’t have classes. The trouble is, I only know around two people on my floor and that’s not nearly enough laundry.

Break posting, uploaded late

Blog over break

I sure hope I read something in the next couple days! I was on my bum all weekend and I got out of the gates running today. I’ve done more work than I usually do in one day already. I brought one book home, but I’m just not amped on it… It’s “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,” all the reports are good, but it just moves so slowly. Oh well. Reading is hard for me at school, normally I read a ton, but when I am studying it can take a lot of the fun out of reading. I am a social person, so I can’t balance work, friends, and reading for pleasure at all.

Still, how fortunate are we to be able to read for pleasure? That is a blessing not many people in history have had, and I don’t for a second take it for granted. I almost wish I could write a book but I don’t know what it would be about. Maybe a biography, a fictional biography, about a nun. I hope I can eventually learn to figure out something descriptive like Tom Robbins style. He’s definitely my favorite writer. Definitely different.

ars poetica

Before this class, I had never even heard the words  "Ars Poetica". So, this concept is pretty new to me. I have written two very different ars poeticas. I wrote one that was more of a biography about myself than a reason I write poetry. It talked about this semester and the events that have occurred and how everything has affected my person, myself. The other one I wrote in class when we had the last half hour to do so. It talked more about my poetry and who my poems were meant for. It talked about the things I find important in my life and why I write about what I do. Now that I have looked over these, it is difficult to decide which ars poetica to use. How do you know? It is really hard to capture everything you want to about yourself in only thirty or so lines. But, at the same time, it would not be a better poem if it were to be one hundred lines, I think it would just ramble. So, I need to decide what I think makes an ars poetica important and what would benefit reading my portfolio. Tough call.

Good luck everyone on the last week of class and finals!

coconutshell limbs

I am in the process of major revision of three poems. It’s much easier than I thought it would be. I was thinking about adding endings or visual accompaniment to a work of art and how permanent that always feels. For example, reading the end of the Harry Potter series made all of the possible ending I had in my head conform to the ending that J.K. Rowling wrote. Similarly, when I saw the first Harry Potter movie, the actor who played Hagrid became what Hagrid looked like in the books even though I had a very different picture of him in my head when I began the trilogy. I find it a bit sad that literary creations are the product of someone’s mind that is somehow untouchable by other people. Anything that is written down (besides purely factual documents) is made in someone’s mind. The outcome of story is made-up. So, why is my ending any less true than the author’s ending? Why is my image of a character less correct than the author’s image? Sure, it’s their work, but if the characters are to exist in my mind as well as in the author’s, then I can manipulate them as much as the author. This thought led to the thought that poems really can end in anyway that the audience wants them to. If the audience is willing to abandon the belief that an actual event exists on the page, then the meaning can change without guilt or constraint…but perhaps that’s not possible. We like our stories and trust our storytellers.

writing the poems...

How do you guys start writing your poems? When Theo gives us guidelines for a poem in class or as an assignment, I feel like I write a beginning line of five different poems each time, then pick the one that I like best. I do not have a problem thinking of a subject or some theme to write about, but I can never seem to actually write about it - I can't get the words on paper. In class sometimes I will write a line that I think could make an interesting poem, but then later I don't know where to go with it. I think my problem is that I try to tell a story. It's instinct. Looking back at my poems, they are all stories. But poems aren't stories, are they? I think Mr. Moss would say "no."
This gives me a new respect for poets. it shows that some people just have a mind for poetry. All my stuff starts and ends in the same place. Regardless of how I feel about the person, I would be open to any comment by a published poet. Stan Moss, for example, didn't strike me as the most reliable of sources regarding world history or his own history for that matter, but his work speaks for itself.

poetry for peace

So I went to poetry for peace last night and heard some interesting poems. The theme was gratitude and many made some good points. The theme also went along with Thanksgiving which was cool. A few dealt with what you should be thankful for. And it pretty much came down to be thankful for the hardships in life, mainly because they make you stronger. I though it was nice that people have been embracing the good as well as the bad. After all, I think you learn a lot about yourself when you are facing a challenge. It kinda makes you grow as an individual, and I guess make you a more understanding person. Like the more you have been through, the more you can understand situations of others. It gives you a connection to others. I am not sure of the exact lines but it was something like life should be "healthy, strong, and beautiful as a poem." It was cool to see someone's definition of what a poem should be. I thought that the line was slightly vague too though. I mean what exactly is beautiful? This makes me think of Ashbery's poem for today. That as readers we all have our own interpretation of a poem and the poet writes, hoping for a certain interpretation I guess. I think that's the part of poetry I think the best. There are no right or wrong answers. It is simply what you think and that really isn't set in stone either. You are always allowed to change your mind.

last couple weeks!

We are almost there- only two and a half more weeks of school and then we have the entire month off. I went to the library the other day and I have never seen it so crowded. It is pretty hilarious/depressing how everyone floods into the library for the last few weeks. It would be really nice if teachers paced our work throughout the semester so we didn't have to spend the last two weeks staying up late to finish final papers, big presentations and all that other wonderful stuff. 

In response to Erin's post, I am having the same difficulties. I write all of my poems in a certain mindset and in one period of time. It is really hard to try to get back into the exact same mood or situation as when you wrote your original poem. I am not quite sure how to go about it either. Any ideas for revision strategies?

Class Today

After reading and discussing Frank O'Hara's "Why I Am Not a Painter" in class today, I immediately thought if my sister and me. I received no artistic genes whatsoever, whereas one of her majors is art. She is fabulous. (In 10th grade she was told to continue art, I was told I should...probably stop after that year..ouch.) Anyway, I love looking at her art because its almost foreign to me- I don't know how she did it, or where she got the idea, or how she knew what tools to use to create it. It makes me, literally, wish I was a painter/artist, etc. On the other hand, I'm the writer of the two. I'm not saying that she doesn't write or that shes not good at it...or even that I'm good at it, its just that she prefers art while Id rather write. She sometimes reads my writing (not necessarily my poems, more of the stuff from Techniques of Fiction and Creative Non-Fiction) and laughs at my sarcasm and wonders how I came up with some of the titles, phrases, etc that I use. We wonder about each others work, yet at the same time I do, in a sense, paint with words. Writing is a form of art, just not the traditional form people expect "art" to be. Art is also another form of writing- so much can be inferred or told just by looking at a piece of artwork. She tell stories through her artwork and it evokes certain feelings from people observing it, just as writing evokes feelings too. I enjoyed our class discussion of that piece.

Back at SLU

I'm in the library right now wearing flip flops while its snowing outside.... My dorm room is usually boiling hot, so I always leave the room dressed for summer weather and then I get upset when I end up walking through snow..

Anyway break was pretty good. I saw my twin sister for the first time in six months so that was nice, although I wasn't prepared for the way people reacted when we were together. For example, on Friday we decided to go to MetroRock which is a sweet climbing gym in Boston. The lady on the T commented on us being twins. The lady at the convenience store commented on us being twins. The driver of the shuttle to the climbing gym commented on us being twins... I had forgotten how annoying it is to constantly be compared to somebody else, and how its so easy to fall into a sense of shared identity. With that said, it is somewhat of a relief to be back at school among people that see me as me, not as my sister's other half.


By the way, is anyone else having trouble editing and revising their poems? I just can't seem to find the mindset I was in when I wrote them originally.

I'm no Einstein

It is shocking for me to think that one person was able to put forward a theory that encompasses all of existence. I am sitting here watching the History Channel’s special on Albert Einstein and cannot fathom having the capacity to answer such a question. I can’t quite understand it fully, but the theory of relativity deals with gravity, time, and matter, the basics of existence and he proposed how it all works. What does his status as such an infamous being have on the ego of a man. In our dreams we wish to be something more than an unknown face in history. We all think we are special, but everyone else is special too, that doesn’t make me very special at all. Einstein was special. He figured something out that no one else before him had. His name is commonplace a hundred years after his rise. He is no longer anonymous, but a man in the mind of all of us. How could that have made him feel when he won the Nobel prize and the world all looked at his genius. He climbed to the top of the mountain and became one of many prominent names in a history book. A brilliant man. How would he feel (if he could in some sense still feel) in 300 years when a new man climbs that mountain and suggests his theory is the correct answer to the world and Einstein’s was just not quite right?

Lemony.

I am going home at 1:30 tomorrow. My Mum, my Dad, my brother and my boyfriend will be there. When I write poetry, I think about what they would say if they read it. Sometimes I think I write detached, abstract, impossible poems because my writing is where all of my identities overlap. I don’t want my parents to see me as a sexual being. I don’t want my brother to see me as normal. I don’t want my boyfriend to see me as an adult.

I watched “Thumbsucker” yesterday and remembered that I used to suck my thumb. I stopped in fourth grade in an attempt to not have to get braces. I had braces for three and a half years. I still wear my retainer to bed. My brother’s retainer is twice the size of mine. He used to rinse it out everyday but never clean the case. So his clean retainer would sit in a gunk-lined container by the sink. Sometimes I broke down and cleaned if for him so I wouldn’t gag while I was brushing my teeth.

I wish I could major in art and have enough patience to make a living out of it. Or writing. I wish I could have the patience to write everyday and edit pieces I think are done. I tried to revise some of my old poems but I couldn’t touch them. It feels like I’m butchering someone else’s work because I am not in the same mindset that I was when I wrote the poem and if I change it, the mindset I had when I wrote the poem will be wrecked. I’ll have to work on that…

paper making

Paper making last week was really sweet. I thought the process was extremely interesting and that you can make paper out of your own clothes. I feel like the paper is just more meaningful because it. Like the combat paper. I think that was a cool way to commemorate those that fight for our country. Interesting though to think since regular paper is made from trees and trees support life here. I guess we really just take paper for granted. Weird. But yes back to paper making. As well as being an interesting process, it was just really fun to do in general. Dragging the screens through the mixture, trying to get enough material. I also really liked how you could add things to the paper, making different designs and adding colors. It was cool to watch other people too. To see what their ideas were and what they were adding to the paper. I'm really excited to see how mine turned out. I'm hoping to incorporate it into my chap book. I think that will be fun and a little challenging as well. Trying to revise some of my poems is going to be difficult and I'm curious to see what will be the final project. I'll probably work on it over break. Yes! break is almost here and that makes me a happy camper. The weather here is turning into a buzz kill for me. I never realized how much I love the sun till I came to school here. I've been looking at the forecast for the week and I am glad to say it is going be in the 70s all week. Not too hot and definitely not cold but just right. I can see it already and as far as I'm concerned, I'm already there.

My bike

My bike was stolen three or four times last year. It’s annoying. It’s almost my fault because it’s super cool and yellow, and it folds in half. In any case no one steals it any more. That’s because it breaks. A lot. The thing won’t stay fixed, and I just end up walking everywhere. I was going to write about my bike for the full class poem, but it just doesn’t mean much to me anymore. Last year it was super cool, but this year it’s just annoying. Warren feels the same about his bike. That’s the price you pay for novelty bikes.

On the mustache ride this year, I ended up running most of the thing. My bike broke right after the start. At least I didn’t break my collarbone like some random kid. We all grew mustaches and took over, there might have been 50 to 75 bikes, I’ve been told that’s performance art. I’ve also been told that was one of vary few traditions at St Law U. I guess it’s a matter of perspective. The whole deal seems silly to me. The moment that the mustache ride becomes too much of a tradition, I say we stop doing it… They just want to assimilate everything, and make it part of the school. It’s not about the school, it’s about us. If you want to talk about the ride, then do it.

homesick

Reading Meredith's post made me think of comfort and dogs and just the wonders of being at home. I had a dog from when I was three years old until sophomore year of high school. He had a heart attack and they couldn't do anything to save him. That was definitely one of the saddest days of my life. Our one dog, Charlie, had been a unifying factor in my family. Everyone loved to walk him and feed him and let him go play in the backyard. For months afterward, it was so quiet in our house and so uncomfortable. There was no dog to pet or to snuggle up with on the floor heater or to play with. The house felt cold, boring and loveless. To this day, we have not gotten another dog- no matter how much my brother, sister and I push the subject. Both of our parents work full time and there is no one to take care of a puppy. But, it would make the house so much better for all of us. I have never understood those families without pets. How do they survive? There is so much comfort and love found in pets (mainly dogs) that cannot be found in humans. There is a loyal, constant friend. Who wouldn't want a dog? I now really want a new puppy to go home to. 

Also, in opposition to Chris, I live for breaks. College was not my first choice of options after high school, but one that my parents and I made - to aid me in the future. I don't like being so isolated here in Canton and I don't think I fit in that well at SLU, but that's not the point. I love going home because it makes me feel like I have a purpose and am a part of the outside world. On such a small campus, such a bubble, we get wrapped up in life within our university community and seem to forget about the rest of the world. Now, when I go home, I read the Chicago Tribune and catch up and feel as though I truly exist.

Break...

Wasn't fall break like two weeks ago.  Everyone seems to look forward to breaks, but I think we are always going on break.  Looking ahead for thanksgiving break just makes the year go faster, in my opinion.  I think the time is going by fast enough.  I don't realy like to make the drive home either, maybe that is why breaks are different for me.  Just another reason to drive 7 hours and spend another 50 bucks on gas.  And doesn't it say something about this campus thast people are always looking forward to leaving it?  The weather has not even got cold yet, there is no reason to want to get out.  Last Friday was 60 and sunny- what could you do at home on a day like that that you could not do here?  I think people should try to take advantage of their time here, not try to shorten it.  Four years will go by fast enough, so I am going to try to get my money's worth.

I like to talk about my dog

I miss my dog. I was born into a family who already had a dog. I've grown up with dogs and have always been around them, except for the 4 months of my freshman year of college. My beautiful chocolate lab died the day after I left for school, and then my beautiful yellow lab the day after I left to go back after Thanksgiving. Freshman year was weird.
Now I miss Leon, my golden retriever. My family rescued him in 06. He's a Hurricane Katrina dog and is also beautiful. We found him on a rescue website for dogs- http://www.sunshinegoldenrescue.com..check it out, youll cry. We knew we had to help him when his blurb started off with "Poor Leon is looking for love and has found it in all the wrong places." When I don't find a job this year I'm going to write dog blurbs for that website.
My parents drove to outside NYC to pick Leon up, who had been transported from Alabama on a converted horse trailer. He was so skittish and timid and had no fur because he was covered with red ants when they found him. He also was chained to a pole when they found him, resulting in big sores and almost no fur for the little guy.
I came home one weekend freshman year to meet him, and fell in love. Leon will just lean on you and walk around stuck to your side like velcro. I used to hardly be able to look at his eyes because they were so sad, but my family has loved the sadness out of them. Now he's furry and slightly chunky and needs to be covered with a fleece blanket at night because he's not used to the cold. Im ready to go home and see my dog. And my parents.

Where has the time gone? It seems like yesterday I was just moving into my room in August and now Thanksgiving break is only a week away. Picking classes for next semester is always stressful… as is picking a major! I’ve finally decided to pick English as my major, with a minor in Fine Arts. It’s interesting to think that last year I was planning on majoring in Biology, but I have grown to realize that science is not my expertise. Unlike many students who wanted to major in Biology because of Pre-med requirements, I was always interested in studying marine biology and oceanography. I find the ocean to be one of the most fascinating topics to learn about, and ocean life to be so beautiful, yet mysterious. Anyway, the English classes that I have chosen for next semester are equally enticing as marine biology. Screenwriting and Shakespeare (Stanley Moss would be proud), as well as Methods of Critical Analysis and Ceramics, are what I have planned out for the spring. I hope all goes well!

books

I have read the Oct. ’08 issue of Poetry feat. Sarah Lindsay, Elizabeth Bishop, and Robert Lowell. The first collection by Sarah Lindsay is interesting. She speaks in a personified third person a lot as if the subjects, being animals, plants, or items, have conscious thoughts, or thoughts that are too advanced for the animal. One poem that I want to make special notice of is Uncouplings by Craig Arnold. It uses words and then breaks up the letters to make meaningful other words. For example, “there is no we in marriage, but a grim area” and “There is an I in family, also my fail”. This is a style that I find very intriguing and I enjoy. Although there are only two poems by Craig Arnold in this collection the second poem, The Invisible Birds of Central America, is a very cool and different style as well. I would absolutely suggest people take a look at him because of his unique style of poetry. Many of the other poems in this mag are what you would typically expect to see in a magazine like this. There are poems about sadness, mourning, specific times in the authors’ life, and all sorts of stuff. However, not much of anything else really stood out like those specific poems. I feel like not many people, especially this class, would be into it but there is a segment of three or four poems by Eric Ekstrand which are translated from a Japanese collection. All of the poems are titled Appleblossom and reflect a very East Asian and zen style. For those interested I’m sure you can get a lot out of reading these types of poems, but personally contemporary poems appeal to me more. 

Five

I wash my plastic silverware and put it in a cup like I do with my pencils. The flip-flops I wear in the shower are a very ugly shade of green. My cousin’s hair makes me think of myself and I miss being home. Every Tuesday I want a cheese quesadilla but I order something else and it’s never as good as a quesadilla would have been.
I’m starting to think that I might stay here for another year. But I’m afraid that my mind has changed to like it here and that if I stay longer, it’ll be a different mind.
I remember when being naked was okay. Once I peed my pants in the art-room bathroom in third grade because I couldn’t get my overalls off. A kid named Corey threw up all over the sidewalk once after 5 cupcakes. It was orange.
I want to take photography. I don’t want to take statistics but I’m going to anyway. When my roommate laughs it makes me laugh. I forgot about shampoo and laundry and how I have to get it and do it even when it’s raining and I have to walk to Rite Aid.
My brother sent me a youtube clip from Alice in Wonderland. We’ll smoke the monster out.
I should be writing papers. Race, mental illness, gender, Victorian women, Indian families, Fanon, Algeria. Cornell West, sex.
Forgive me for jumping. I didn’t want to talk today. I’m shuffled up.
I’m not counting down.
Four, three, two, one.

Stan Moss--He's hard to forget

I write about Stan Moss's poetry reading some time after the actual event. I've been waiting for just the right time to write about his reading because I feel as though I may be a bit shell shocked still from his visit to our class. I think his visit sheds alot of light on why he didn't say so much during his reading.
Stan Moss's poetry reading was the first reading I've ever been to. I briefly attended a poetry for peace event freshman year, but I believe the program was just starting up at that point, and there wasn't much to speak of. For my first real reading, I wasn't impressed. The setting couldn't have been more conducive to a comfortable,enjoyable atmosphere. The Sykes formal lounge was set up alot like a lecture hall, but the lighting was keeping me cheery and there was a certain buzz about the room. However, when Moss actually starting reading, he really mumbled over his poems, often making mistakes and stopping to correct himself. He said nothing about his poems. I would have liked to have heard about his inspirations, his worries, concerns, and fears that drove him to write his poems. I would have been much more interested had I gotten this background.
But like I said, I may understand why he didn't talk to so much after seeing him in class. As the saying goes, "if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say it at all." I wonder if he couldn't even find anything nice to say about his own poetry. Moss read a number of poems, and most of them had some sort of underlying or overt sexual references--very interesting coming from a man seemingly with one foot in the grave. I often had a hard time understanding what he was saying anyway.
When he was done reading, he took a number of questions from the audience. I felt like the questions were pretty interesting, but Moss skirted around them a bit. In line with the personality I got to meet in class, he really designed his own question, using the audience's inquiries as more of a general guideline. He did have some interesting things to say though--at least as much as I could understand. I wonder if it was too cold up in the North Country for him.

Stanley Moss, the late edition

Stanley Moss

I was thinking back to when Stanley Moss visited SLU, and reevaluating his presence. I wonder what exactly he was trying to do. I went to his reading, and that will now be forever colored by our class. Still, I have notes that I took during his reading, and I enjoyed it a lot. He might have been acting in either situation, but at the reading I thought he seemed nice and old… His “dark” side didn’t really come out until he was beholden to no one. It is an interesting thought.

His readings were ok, if bland, and I enjoyed the time quite a bit. At the least it is nice to be read to in a quiet setting. He certainly had his own presence, and was not nervous in the least. Is that the result of his life, his attitude, or his raising? I suppose I will never know.

We all know Stanley Moss made an impact. I am still trying to temper my indignation with the knowledge that he was trying to be a jerk. Aren’t there better ways to inspire, or at least promote poets? I would also mention that his reading had a very bad Q and A session…

Busy

Busy to the point of exhaustion. A very common feeling these days. Sleep is no longer relaxing and refreshing, but a responsibility, another chore on the list. If I don’t get these 5 hours of sleep I will never finish my paper tomorrow. It concerns me when your hours of sleep become a movable commitment. Your diurnal patterns shift to more of a crepuscular trend and sleeping 3 hours at night and 2 at four in the afternoon become the norm. Your mind turns to a different mode. Where the usual daily tasks shift out of focus. Days no longer matter and each hour finds itself committed to a task. Your day is no longer run by little more than the rise and set of the sun, but strictly by the clock. Always checking it, anticipating and dreading the passage of time. It is just not a natural and certainly not a healthy way of living. Always stressed watching the clock. Your natural defense system reacting through fight or flight, not set off by the occasional scare of a lion, but by what time it is. Stress hormones are released and your body enters a survival mode. A way to sustain yourself in time of need. When every matter at hand seems like an emergency the system is overwhelmed and drained. Stress equals loss a of health. Loss health of can eventually lead to death. Living by the clock not the sun means death.

Poetry Reading

Last Wednesday I attended the poetry reading Politics of Hunger. Some speakers read their own works, while others read the work of published poets. The opening speaker shared her enthusiasm over the election results and the audience was equally excited about the possibility of change. The opening speaker put the poetry reading's theme in a wider context as well. Instead of focusing solely on hunger as relating to a lack of tangible sustenance, she addressed the idea of hungering for a sort of change and a new tomorrow. 

The mix of readers was very eclectic, ranging from several professors, to community members, to students. Each poem had a unique take on the theme of the reading. For example, one man read a poem by an antiapartheid activist in South Africa, while a woman read a poem about a collective dream of peace. Other readings included a poem about an Argentinean woman's response to September 11th, and a poem about starvation. Two speakers read poems first in Spanish, and then followed those readings with the English translations. It was wonderful to hear the poems read in their original language, and the contrast of the Spanish to the English added something to the entire experience of the reading. It reminded me that people hunger for change all over the world and that the power of hope can sustain people when their basic needs or desires are not being met. 

Literary Review

I came across a few periodicals in ODY en route to finding this magazine (it looks more like a book) from October 2008. Its name is simply “Poetry Magazine: October 2008.” It was founded in 1912 by Harriet Monroe. It can also be found on the web at http://www.poetrymagazine.org/magazine/1008/index.html along with many of the past issues and other related links. The Poetry magazine is published by the Poetry Foundation, and currently edited by Christian Wiman. It sells for fewer than five dollars, and by the looks of the cover and the paper, it is a bargain for someone looking to collect poetry. Subscriptions are accessible on the website for $35 per year in the US.
This particular edition features works by three primary poets, but also included works of a dozen other authors. There did not seem to be much of an aligning theme between the authors, however. In addition to the submitted poetry, the second half of the compilation included letters to the editor, literary essays, and suggestions for further reading. So… if you do not find the kind of stuff you wanted to find in this book, you can search for others they have recommended.
Sarah Lindsay’s poem “Tell the Bees” is the first poem in this collection. This is a bit of a pastoral as it describes a bees’ business in the hive, and the interaction is has with other flying insects. The poem has a loose stanza structure, and the lines mostly end-stopped. This poem also describes a bee’s day as cyclical and highly structured - they have a formula for gathering pollen and bringing it back to the comb, and it goes on day after day.
I spent a lot of time reading, and rereading one poem, “Uncouplings” by Craig Arnold. It is a short poem of seven short stanzas. It plays with the saying “there is no I in team, but there is an … in…” For example, “There is no I in teamwork/ but there is a two maker.” It is also cleverly constructed because each letter in the first word – teamwork - is used in the second phrase or word – two maker. Another stanza reads, “there is no we in marriage/but a grim area.”
This magazine provides a space for all kinds of poetry. There are prose poems (yes, Stan, they do exist) such as Eric Ekstrand’s “Appleblossums.” Some poems are just a few lines long, some go on for a page or two. Surprisingly, there does not seem to be any criteria for the style of poetry. Usually a monthly magazine will have a theme for its articles that is consistent for that issue, and then changes for the next edition. This one seems to lack that unique theme.

Whispering Nightcrawlers

I went to Poetry for Peace on Wednesday. The theme for the reading was “the politics of hunger”. Nearly every reader mentioned something about the election and how incredibly awesome it was that Obama won. One woman’s poems were quite literal and hypotactic. She wrote about the dreams she had for a better world. It was sweet but not particularly complex.
Two women read poems in Spanish and then in English. I like listening to foreign languages, it’s calming because I can’t tell if they’ve mad a mistake, it all sounds fluid and perfect.
The entire time, I was thinking about reading a poem by the Japanese poet Chiri that goes as follows:

Basho, with your grass pillow, what underground sounds come into

your dreams?

Do blue-horned beetles scratch against the starless night sky that

lines your head

with the starless night skies of their own domed backs? Do centipedes

trickle through?

Do worms burrow with their snouts, with their bodies that are

entirely snouts?

Snoozer, I can only ask you this because you are dead asleep:

Do I ever appear as a nightcrawler whispering in your ear?

Are the words, “I love you,” as soft as the cough of a good luck cricket?

I want to read it for my Dad because he sent it to me in an email and I absolutely love it. Poetry for Peace podcasts , so he could listen to it online. But, alas, I am very shy in front of people and I’m not sure if I’ll muster up the courage to do it.
Anyway, the reading was very hopeful despite the depressing theme. I don’t often think of hunger because I have never been without food. To hear poetry about serious hunger was very sad. At the same time, though, the poems were so beautiful that I was nearly grateful for suffering in the world because it prompted these authors to compose such astounding poetry.
It reminded me of the writing that was recovered from concentration camps after the holocaust that were stuffed and pushed into holes in the walls. There is nothing so powerful as real words.
I wish I had a car and a license so I could drive to Potsdam and go to poetry readings there. Maybe we should take a field trip someday…

World Literature Today

The literary magazine I chose to review for class is World Literature Today (or WLT for short) and can be found at your local ODY library. True to its title this magazine publishes, reviews, and conducts interviews with contemporary writers from around the world. Within the magazine you can find a variety of content relating to poetry and fiction writing. WLT is published by the University of Oklahoma and is based in Norman Oklahoma. It has its own website, but unfortunately does not make any of its content available online. It is published in an aesthetically pleasing manor in color with many pictures. On a shelf it would fit in just fine with News Week It is easy to flip through and you find yourself reading a work then continuing on to reading the interview with the author to figure out more of its meaning. I think this is a great feature, being able to get a sense of who is actually writing this work and what they want to say about it; nice benefit only found in contemporary writing.
I would recommend this magazine to someone who wants to get a wide variety of content. There is no joining topic of the works it is more of a survey of writing from around the world ranging in subjects. The only unifying theme is that the work is done internationally. One section of the latest issue (November to December) is titled “New Baltic Poetry” to give you an idea of what it is like. It also has a selection of new poems by the greatest Chinese poet of our time (in its opinion), Bei Dao with an interview following. I took some time with Dao’s work and found a poem entitled “Clear Sky” to be my favorite. It has a very metaphysical feel to it, like the other works shown by Dao. It is somewhat short only being 16 lines in length and has concise sentences using simple words (perhaps more so then intended due to translation). While the true meaning really escapes me, the poem succeeds with me in instilling a set of beautiful images and spins my mind off into tangents of thought.
Finally on the other side of things there is a fictional short story by Etgar Keret, an Israeli writer entitled “The Pricking”. These works are written in the writers native tongue and translated into English for publish in the magazine, as I think is the standard procedure. With the contemporary nature and global pool of writers this magazine is a great place to find a new author to follow.

Review of Literary Magazine: Titled: Poetry
November 2008 issue Volume 193, Number 2
The poetry journal I choose to review is titled Poetry. Poetry, founded in 1912 by Harriet Moore, is a collection of modern poetry, as well as book reviews, comments, editorials, and visual poems. This journal also includes interesting background information about the authors that have submitted their poems, as well as directions on how to submit your poetry to the journal. With Chicago as its city of origin and publication, readers may also find advertisement for future poetry reading events in the city of Chicago. Poetry also includes forums for up-coming events in other cities, such as New York and Boston. Poetry is also very easily accessible. It can be found either online at www.poetrymagazine.org, or in your local bookstore or library. The paperback edition costs approximately $3.75, but is not cheaply put together. The full color front cover image, “Portrait of a Girl,” 2008, was exquisitely drawn by artist Ana Benaroya. The journal also includes an entire colorful section of twelve visual poems printed on glossy paper. Everything included in this journal is well-organized and printed in an aesthetically-pleasing manner. While Poetry is rich in its content, the editors have organized the journal into specific categories, or chapters. The first section, pages 99-124, is titled “Poems.” One author whose poetry I found to be especially compelling is Chilean writer Roberto Bolaño. Bolaño’s “La Francesca” tackles the complex issues that a young Latina girl faces. In its 94 lines, “La Francesca” reveals the secrets about a woman coming to grips with her dark sexual past. Written in first person, the speaker is interacting with this woman and internalizing the choices that this woman made. Throughout “La Francesca,” the speaker is searching to discover whether the sexual acts that she had partaken in were voluntary or forced. One excerpt about the Latina that I found to be gripping follows as: “In general possessing an enviable self-control,/ except when she got depressed and got drunk,/ something that could last two or three days,/ a succession of Bordeaux and Valium,/ that would give you the goose bumps./ Then she’d usually tell you what happened to her/ between the ages of 15 and 18./ A pornographic horror movie,/ Naked bodies and business deals that skirted the law/ a vocational actress and at the same time a girl with strange strokes/ of greed.” That particular excerpt is one I found to be complex because the author is speaking of the girl as a victim of a sexual act, but at the same time filled with greed. Poetry also has included a visual section of poems that are painted, written, and drawn in ways that defy perspective and small space. Underneath each drawing is a caption that describes each piece for readers to interpret. In the “comment” section of Poetry are book reviews and editorials about other modern literary pieces. I highly recommend young poets, including both college aged and high school students, who are interested in learning about modern poetry, to subscribe to this magazine. Poetry is fun and easy to read, as well as informative. Reading and discussing this magazine in a college-level creative writing course would also be beneficial for young students. It could potentially entice interesting conversation about how modern literature is responding to the changing world.
Wiman, Christine, et al. Poetry 2nd ser. 193 (Nov. 2008).

The Literary Review

I would first like to say that I really enjoyed reading the literature in this magazine. This specific literary journal includes both works of fiction and poetry. It's published quarterly by Fairleigh Dickinson University in New Jersey. There is a website for the magazine, the address of which is www.theliteraryreview.org. As of now, the magazine is open to any writing on any topic, but in 2009, there will be a new format that takes into account the themes of writing. There will be a specific theme for each edition of the review, and contributors will have to adhere to the prescribed theme.
The aspect of this literary magazine that first caught my attention is the cover. It's a painting of what looks like a woman in the wind; her hair is blowing over her face, masking her identity and drawing the focus instead to the brushstrokes and very calculated randomness of each strand of hair. It's a really beautiful painting by Bettina Sellmann. She's also the artist who painting the image that appears on the back of the magazine. It's a similar painting, but the technique seems to have been tweaked just enough to make this second one rather horrifying. There's a pale face, somewhat concealed by a fog; the mouth is in the center and is the focus, with large teeth, visible gums, and red, smudged lipstick. The woman almost looks dead; it's interesting how the two paintings are so similar, but so completely different at the same time.
The inside of the magazine is obviously where I should be looking, however. It's good quality, with thick paper, black text on white pages, and it's about the size of any normal book. One poem that I especially liked is called Fairy Tale and it's by Cathleen Calbert. It seems to be a poem about women who don't live life to the fullest and don't reach their highest potential. She describes these women as "witches", which is where the title, Fairy Tale, comes in. Towards the end of the poem, I think that we're supposed to feel sympathy for the "witches" of the world because, after the time when they could have changed passes, they realize that life has been somewhat of a waste. However, the actual ending of the poem is very confusing, and I'm not sure if it turned into an incestual situation.
All of the contributors appear to be very experienced; most of them have at least one published work--either a book of poetry or a novel. Some are successful translators. This review is a very worthwhile one, with a variety of work.

PRISM international review

PRISM international is a writing magazine that is based in UBC Vancouver. In PRISM, recent works are exhibited, and in the case of the spring 08 issue, all are themed. PRISM is a great journal to pick up, and I have found some very interesting pieces in just one journal. In one issue (published quarterly) one can find fiction, poetry, illustrations, lyrics, nonfiction, and interviews. This hodgepodge makes an eclectic mix of writing, and makes PRISM that much easier to read and digest. For more details one can go to the website (http://prism.arts.ubc.ca/) which is easy to navigate and very informative.

After reading the issue, I went back into it for a closer look at the poetry. Ranging in styles and background, some of these poems were unexpected and extremely pleasing. The translation of some of Fumiko Hayashi’s poetry by Mariko Nagai was haunting and powerful. Other poems were also noteworthy for their interesting style. Stephanie York wrote a vivid poem called fighting the music with a creative topic. But these poems are really just one side of PRISM.

The Issues have the look of a nice mass produced paperback book. Contemporary artists do the covers, and the issues are in black and white. On this particular issue, it is noted as the music issue. When one reads the issue, music is a hard thread to pick up. Still the editors leave a note in the beginning, explaining that music was a theme that was loosely collected. Individual authors were free to use it in whatever tangential way they wished. Within the pages of the book, many of its contributors, editors and otherwise, wrote interesting paragraphs on the role of music in their writing. I found this exercise to be the most interesting part of the entire issue. The blurbs really capture different viewpoints in one place, all around the ethos of language.

I really enjoyed this issue. I plan on looking through more of these PRISMs than what I have already. The most striking part was that the issue feels contemporary. This shows the life of literature today. It is also a great introduction to modern works in many genres. For every piece I didn’t like, there was an opposite piece I loved. I think that a range of works like PRISM has, proves that it is a well rounded and thought out magazine.

Because of its accessibility I can’t recommend PRISM enough.

PRISM International Review

PRISM International is published four times a year by the Creative Writing Program at the University of British Columbia. It accepts contemporary writing from Canada and around the world. The journal includes fiction, illustrations, nonfiction, and poetry. An online version of the journal can be reached at www.prismmagazine.ca

The cover of the magazine is illustrated by Kathryn Jankowski, and although the women drawn on the cover are misshaped and proportionally inaccurate, the eye is drawn to them. Jankowski employs a vibrant use of color to illustrate these women by painting the background of the cover mustard yellow and parts of the women's clothing and bodies in a reddish/orange shade.

PRISM International focuses on contemporary literature that addresses themes interwoven into modern day society. For example, the poem "Diagnoses" with powerful lines such as, "you say the road ahead is marrow," fits into the modern day conception of health care. The poem, "Cookie Bags" discusses how modernization has devalued the intrinsic value and beauty of nature in the lines, "the same thing happened with cut flowers/quivering by the automatic doors/dying in buckets". Also, nonfiction pieces in the journal reflect on issues such as the clash of strict religious beliefs with modern relationships, and homosexuality. There is also a very powerful fiction piece about the horror and dehumanization that occurs from working in a meat factory, as well as a piece about a family raising a mentally delayed child. Every piece in the journal was extremely relevant to different aspects and issues facing today's society.

I was not familiar with any of the contributers to this journal, but it appears that they have had moderate success recieving recogntion for their works. Many of them are employed as professors at universities, and have have published their own books of poetry. A number of contributors also won awards such as the CBC Literary Award, and the E.J Pratt Medal & Prize in Poetry.

Of all the poems in this literary magazine, my favorite was "Liner Notes" by Jennica Harper. This poem was written in free verse and followed the developing relationship between a woman and a 3 year old girl with a mental disability. It addressed all the angst and stress of raising such a child, but also revealed the beauty of the child's simple mind.

The 2River View

For my literary journal review, I found an interesting magazine called The 2River View. After I spent some time going through ODY, I decided to go online and see what I could find there. I stumbled upon this magazine that has a full functioning site containing archives, news, and information about featured poets. The homepage is found at http://www.2river.org/. I chose the new issue because of the brilliantly colorful artwork on the cover. The magazine included some more artwork and two poems from each poet featured in the issue. Having these two poems from each poet helped to see what their style is and if I might want to read more of their other poems. Some had a recurring theme in their poetry. One poet's poems contained thoughts of the death. In the poem "Facts of Death," the speaker is talking about the death of her father, giving great imagery of her father's body in his grave. In the second poem, "Somewhere in Between," the speaker is talking about the death of her grandfather. The speaker reveals that she had not spent much time with her grandfather and never would since he is gone. Some of the other poems in the magazine were very random. There doesn't seem to be a recurring theme linking the poems. I liked this alot though. You are able to get a little taste from each of the poets. One of my favorite poems is titled"Alongside the Dumpster." The speaker notices things that have been left besides the dumpster. He begins to question who has left these items and why. I myself have noticed things besides the dumpster but have never thought about why they were there. My simple conclusion would be that someone just doesn't want those things anymore. One item that I laughed about in the poem was the inflatable doll. The lines: "Who, for example, abandoned/the deflated 'pleasure doll'?/ And who, God help us,/ picked it up?" Often things by the dumpster are taken by others, but I found this to be hilarious. Another poem I liked is "My mind's a cathedral, exploded in." The speaker gives great imagery liking the appearance if the brain to a cathedral. I found this very interesting and began to wonder what my mind would look like. After the poems and artwork, there is information about the poets featured. I hadn't heard of any of the poets in the magazine, but many have been writing for years. One woman has been writing poetry for fifty years. There were a very diverse group of poets in this magazine. If you are looking to submit poetry for this magazine. The magazine is published four times a year. They only accept poems that have not been published before. I really like this because every poem I have read in this magazine is the first time it being read by others. I think this is nice for the readers because it is like being let in on a secret. A secret that is shared with the other readers of this magazine. I think it gives a more personal touch to the magazine. I see it as a wonderful place for people to shave their poems with others.

Jacket Magazine Review

The literary magazine I reviewed was The Jacket Magazine. After searching the ODY library high and low, looking for interesting, aesthetically pleasing, and/or popular hardcopy journals and failing, I hit the web. The Jacket Magazine is a full functioning website based magazine that publishes famous poems, reviews, upcoming undiscovered poets, “spotlights” poets and their work, as well as news on books, prizes and magazines. The homepage of the website (http://jacketmagazine.com/00/home.shtml) has links to all the Jacket’s issues-- clicking on an issue number brings you to the Jacket’s table of contents for each specific issue, and allows you to scroll through and open each separate poem, review, artwork, or upcoming book titles. The entire literary magazine has in a sense been “cut up” and organized on a webpage in a “web link” listing order and arrangement. The earliest issue released on the website was published in October of 1997, and the most current issue is issue 35 of “Early 2008”. The website holds 36 issues’ complete with accessible information. It is a pity though, that the magazine’s homepage isn’t that attractive. It does tend to look much like a “blog page”, with lists of section titles and the subcategories and literature presented in each section. At the top of the homepage the editor (John Tranter) and associate editor (Pam Brown) have placed links for with their contact info, as well as link to their separate “author pages”, which gives basic info about each editor.
According to the website John Tranter founded the magazine in 1997 to “showcase lively contemporary poetry and prose.” The website continues to state, “most of the material is original to this magazine, but some is excerpted from or co-produced with hard-to-get books and magazines, partly to help them find new readers.” I really believe the magazine holds true to these descriptions. The captivating poetry and prose here is definitely based on current and popular matters. One poet recently on the homepage is Omar Pérez, a Cuban poet who writes about growing up in Cuba, and being a student in a communist country. The website portrays both the Spanish and English translated versions of each poem, adding an appealing nature of having the “real” written words, versus the translated ones, in which some meaning/imagery could be lost. Some critiques of Omar Pérez’s poems were published in other books, in which the Jacket Magazine just republishes on their site (with permission of course!). I believe this magazine’s use of material from other published books or magazines is a wonderful idea. It helps to spread literary knowledge among vast groups of audiences and shows the strength and positive affects that come from sharing resources within the world of literature and critique.
What is unique about the magazine is that you cannot subscribe to it, readers are just asked to check the website every few weeks to find if new issues have been published. Readers also have the ability to read future issues, as they are being constructed and posted piece by piece.
All in all I thought this magazine is a useful tool for poetry and literature fans that are looking for “fresh” or “underground” pieces of written work. The magazine does a wonderful job finding works of art and highlighting the wonder of each piece. I believe I would come back to this magazine if I were looking for upcoming talent in the “poetry world” or looking for a strong and truthful review on an underrated poet/poem. The website is well organized, intellectual, and well stocked with brilliant information. It was a great find!

Poetry

“Poetry” November 2008. “Poetry” is published monthly by the Poetry Foundation, and it comes pretty cheap at $5.00 per issue. In fact, each issue is published as a soft-cover book, so you’re really getting your money’s worth. The journal comes with very little in the way of a mission statement, so initially the reader senses a very open-ended approach. That is, there is a feeling that anything might be included. In this edition, you’ll find poems printed on the inside front and back covers, in addition to the poems, artwork, and reviews included in the journal. Both poems are written by authors who have died this year. This edition starts with several poems from Robert Balano, who tackles (homo)sexuality and spirituality with images suggestive of sexual acts. His interest lies in the darker side of the human psyche, and his poems reflect on the parts of society, like prostitutes, sex fiends, death and helpless elderly, that we generally try to suppress from mainstream consciousness. One poem by Philip Levine and two by Mary Szybist follow Balano, and these poems are written with a very different subject matter in the forefront. These authors focus on aspects of nature. Levine discusses the majesty and divinity of mountains overlooking an ocean, as the speaker is trying so desperately to understand his place in the vastness of the world. Szybist’s works also deal with humankind’s place in nature. She questions our role, trying to get at what it means to have so much control over the natural world the majority of the time, yet be subject to nature’s whim on some occasions. Fiona Sampson’s “Zeus to Juno” follows, and the reader is returned to sexual world of the first several poems. This poem describes the Zeus’s sexual relationship with a woman who is sacrificed as a result of their encounter. The poem is full of vivid imagery of the woman’s discarded body with “body agape/like a question.” Two poems by Billy Collins follow, and the reader is again finding himself reading about nature. His poem “Her” describes the sounds of suburban life, and it seems like the author is contrasting this to a more tranquil rural life. The poem ends with a description of two men discussing a women one had presumably slept with the night before, only to forget her name. Elaine Equi has two poems included in this book, and she is the only author included that is writing with a non-conventional stanza based form. In “A Start” she takes the same characters and changes the order of who is performing the action on whom. There are three short, three to six line sections that take on very different meanings because of the way she reworks the order of the lines. “Antiquity Calling” is a prose poem that again gets right at issues of homosexuality. She writes a description of a man who would most likely be thought strange by any mainstream human, due to his weird obsessions and odd behavior. This journal also includes twelve visual poems, edited by Geof Huth. Huth also spends a page explaining the modern movement of visual poetry, and he annotates each piece that is included. All of these visual poems are a mixture of artwork and words, in varying degrees. This section might be interesting to someone who is finding an interest in alternative forms of poetry. The final section of the journal is titled “Comments,” and entries in this section range from general commentary on various aspects of human life to reviews of recently published books of poetry. In this edition, five books that have come out of Ireland are reviewed, amongst others. Robert Archambeau’s entry in this section examines David Orr’s reflection on poetry and politics, which appeared in a previous issue of this magazine. The journal closes with letters to the editors and announcement of prizes handed out by the publication to authors of poems and prose, who have been published in the past year in this magazine. At the back of the journal are several pages of advertisements for the Poetry Foundation, this journal, and some authors. Overall, this journal included works that were both conventional and innovative. It is a very well-rounded publication that may offer something to any reader. If you’d like to know more about this publication, visit www.poetrymagazine.org.

The American Poetry Review

When looking for a literary journal to review, I selected The American Poetry Review. With its large size and blue and orange complimentary colors of the cover, it was aesthetically pleasing enough to pick up and skim through. After looking through the journal and reading a few of the pieces, I decided it would be a good one to review. World Poetry, Inc. is a non -profit corporation located in Philadelphia, PA and publishes The American Poetry Review bimonthly. The website of the journal can be found by going to http://www.aprweb.org. One of the main reasons I enjoyed this journal was because of the variety of pieces found inside. Not only is there poetry to read, but also writing columns, poetry critiques, new poetry from writers, letters, and advertisements. All of the advertisements have to do with poetry or writing. There are advertisements dealing with conferences, seminars available, various poetry series, and college programs for writers, etc. I almost bypassed this journal at first because it was larger and looked like a newspaper- the paper was the same as newspapers, and the journal was colorless inside with just black and white fonts and pictures. Although the journal seemed very informal at first, the large size and complimentary colors distinguished it from the rest.
I really enjoy the way that each poet provides more than one poem for their submission; it makes it easier to notice their style and content, and look for other themes throughout the poems. The fact that small bios and pictures of the authors are included in the journal is great, although the bios are rather small. I wish that the editors had made the fold larger because I could hardly see the bios. It makes me wonder how many people actually stopped and read them.
This journal consists of primarily poetry, and many themes seem to emerge throughout the work. I noticed many themes of sickness, health ailments, death, and family. There are sexual themes as well. All of the poems seem so personal to each author; I really admire when people can write so freely about personal events or feelings. Although I’m sure many of the poems weren’t easy to write, the courage that it takes to do that is commendable.
The first poem I noticed when I flipped open the journal was a poem called “Nostalgia” by David Rivard. Although it was not my favorite poem, the fact that the first line reads “What to do now with the nostalgia for first handjobs” certainly makes readers pay attention. “Nostalgia” served to be a humorous and entertaining poem, but my favorite poem was by Crystal Anne Williams entitled “How To Become a Black Woman (while being/having been raised by a white woman)”. I was first drawn to it by the title, and wondered what this woman had to say about it. The reasons are listed numerically down the page, each reason consisting of at least two lines. Many of the lines conveyed the discrimination Williams felt as a child and young adult who had been adopted by a white woman. Throughout the chronological style, Williams takes readers through her life, highlighting the painful events she endured, and coming to the conclusion that her mother was a wonderful woman who did an amazing job raising her. Now that Williams’ mother is dead, she realizes this and almost pleads forgiveness at the end, showing readers how much she loved her mother even though she hadn’t realized it while growing up.
Overall, I really liked the way this journal was not strictly comprised of poems, but added a variety of other things such as letters, critiques, and advertisements. The advertisements served as a good way to break up the different pieces, and served as a way for readers to learn about opportunities going on in the writing world.

review of a literary journal

I found a journal in ODY called "Critical Inquiry". It is, ironically, published in Chicago by students and staff of the University of Chicago. That is ironic because I am from Chicago- and to my knowledge have never seen this publication. Critical Inquiry is a quarterly publication, labeled as 'winter', 'fall', 'summer' and 'spring' issues. The editor of the journal is W.J.T. Mitchell. He is a professor of English and Art History at the University of Chicago. According to the UChicago website, Mitchell is well known for his work with "the fields of visual culture ad iconology (the study of images across the media). He is especially known for his work on the relations of visual and verbal representations in the context of social and political issues." He has had a large influence on the publication, obviously as an editor, and some of Critical Inquiry's publications focused on public art, race and identity, sociology of literature, narratives, and psychoanalysis. The journal covers issues in many different fields in academics. 

The URL for Critical Inquiry's website is http://criticalinquiry.uchicago.edu/. 

After browsing through a few of the issues of Critical Inquiry, I got to see how varied the pieces of writing are and how varied the authors of each piece are. For example, one piece in the Winter 2008 publication is Jacques Ranciere. He is a professor of philosophy at the University of Paris. Then, in the same issue, there is an author names Ricardo Alarcon. This author is also the president of the National Assembly of People's Power of the Republic of Cuba. Finally, there is an author, again in the Winter 2008 publication, named Jeffery Knapp. Knapp is a professor of English at UC Berkeley. He is also currently writing a book, called ''Shakespeare Only." The authors range from professors to political leaders to famous writers to artists. 

The Critical Inquiry focuses on critically reviewing books, articles and essays. In addition, the publication includes interviews, short pieces, suggested books, etc. The main content, however; is focused around critical essays done by qualified, educated writers from all over the world. An example of some of the article titles are  'On the Relationship of Art History and Art Theory: Translators' Introduction', 'The Life and Death and Death of Colonel Blimp', and 'The Enduring Ephemeral, or the Future is a Memory'. The publication, just from reading the titles alone, is very focused on analysis and also focused on serious writing. It requires a reader with a large vocabulary and an interest in dense reading to want to understand the entire publication. To be honest, I was unsure of many of the articles referenced throughout the Winter 2008 publication. 

The main reason I chose Critical Inquiry was, sadly, based on its cover. All of the covers on the publication are fascinating. There is cool art, designs, interesting historical figures and things that would seem to be interesting to read about. I was impressed by the cover art and judged a book by its cover, oh no. Regardless, if I had read some of the publications referenced throughout the issue, I think I would have gained more from Critical Inquiry, but I still enjoyed the art and the purpose of the magazine- understanding the media and representations in a social and political context. 

Yeah I remember my freshman year and when the first snow came. I was so excited to see the white glistening powder over everything. And of course when all my friends found out that I hadn't really been around snow, they decided to hit me with snow balls every chance they got. It was really fun....for the first few weeks. Then it got wicked cold, and I thought I was crazy for coming here. But over the years I've gotten used to it. I just hate it when the sun doesn't come out for a few days. I'm friends with a freshman from California. She was super excited when it snowed the other night. She came to rehearsal screaming, "I love snow!" Its cool to see her so excited. Reminds me of myself. She is complaining how cold it is already. We all just laughed to ourselves and told her that its gets much colder.
I thought that assignment 7 was difficult. I'm not really sure if I did it right either. It was an interesting assignment though and I'm curious about everyones poems. Workshop will be fun. Also, in general, workshop has been interesting. It's cool to hear about everyones experiences. I will also have to agree that the whole class workshop was pretty intimidating. I was really nervous when it was my time to go. It ended up not being that bad though. I think I just got used to reading my groups poems and I was comfortable with them. It was nice to read poems from the other group though. It's interesting how everyone has there own style. Our class has some great ideas as well.

This morning I met a guy from California who saw snow for the first time..yesterday. He kept commenting on it, the way it felt to make a snowball, the way it stuck to your jacket, and how he couldn't wait to learn how to ski. Now, I was pretty excited about it snowing and all, but I definitely can't remember how it felt to see it for the first time. I've always been around snow, my mom has let me know more than once that she went skiing with me in utero. And there are way too many childhood pictures of my sister and I bundled up standing next to snow drifts. But I can imagine that it must seem and feel somewhat foreign, like being on the moon or something. I'm sure this guy saw plenty of snow in movies, saw pictures of white Christmas', and pictures of people skiing on vacation, but to actually dig your hands in and feel that achy cold feeling in your hands,.. you can't get that from movies and pictures. I feel like when you're a kid, or experiencing something for the first time, you get so excited about all the little things, like getting to wear a wool hat or ride down a hill on a plastic sled. I guess in a lot of ways I want to regain that excitement, find joy in all the little things, and stop stressing about the stuff I can't control.

Snow, among other things

Of all my four years here, this is the only time we have had snow before Halloween. Freshman year, it actually snowed ON Halloween, but other than that, it usually holds off until November. Last night when I was walking around I thought it was nice to have a change of weather, a change from the rain, but as I woke up this morning I realized Im not ready for it. Not ready for the wet pants, the sandy wet pants that come later, the snowplows that wake me up, and putting away my bike and experiencing that long walk to the townhouses. I don't run inside, ever, nor do I like going to the gym, so I run outside all winter even when its -20. I thought I could hold off on that for awhile, but I guess not. I'm not ready to put on a hat and gloves and only warm up when I'm about done with my run.
On another note, the senior breakdown occurred yesterday. The realization that I majored in the wrong field, the realization that I don't know what I'm doing after college, and everything else that goes along with the "What the hell am I doing with my life???" moment. Now I'm just kind of bummed.
On the last note...Assignment 7 was hard. I dont know if I completely understood it, so workshopping is going to be interesting. I hope I wasnt the only one who found it difficult. Enjoy the snow everyone.

Writing

My favorite author is Tom Robbins... Not because his stories are the best, or because he uses language in an unbelievable way. It's because it's real, for all of their outlandishness, they capture some "essence" of life. The stories have a side that is described so realistically that you can't help but to love them.
How does an author find such a place? how do I take my stories, and bring them to a place that is both crazy, and true?
If I could meet Tom, I would ask him things like:
What is your favorite thing to eat with oatmeal?
Do you like to write? If so, what feelings does it give you?
are you a Taurus? I am, so I figured you might be.

Well OK, so I can't think of good questions... I mean I don't want him to think I'm an asshole. I need deep, creative, new questions. We might as well not talk about his books at all. That would get him. Well Tom, keep writing, I'll try to keep up reading, and maybe we will meet up sometime.

P.S.
my poem about lexiconal sets was reallllllly bad, I didn't like it at all. I think bad Ideas should just be left to sit and die sometimes.
-Alex

Rainy Days

Gloomy weather always finds a way to put a damper on my mood. From the time I wake up it is bringing me down. It is hard to get out of bed when there are clouds blocking the sunlight meant to wake your senses. Getting up in darkness just seems unnatural. Then walking outside into the cold and wet. It all seems just so unappealing as I lay in bed fighting my alarm clock. Being forced to leave a comfortable bed and pushed into unpleasant weather really puts you in a pessimistic mood. Being outside is no fun, thus exercising and chasing that natural high just seems so unappealing. On days like this I am simply worthless. All day I feel lazy and don’t want to do anything but lie around and nap. I guess that is what rain is good for. It is good to escape and listen to and watch from a comfortable vantage point. There is nothing like the sound of a soft sound of rain to lull you to sleep. I guess you could say the rain is here to help is take a day off. It gives us an excuse to go for a run or go to the library tomorrow. Likewise it makes us appreciate the sunny days. As we rush from building to building hidden beneath a damp hood, all I want is the feeling of warm sunlight on my back. I guess I won’t be feeling that warmth on my back anytime soon, or even the sun for that matter in the next few days, but today I think I will take my chances on putting some things off until a sunnier day.

Film Spin

Rolling stones, rolling wheels, and a rolling camera. Today I made a short clip of skateboarding with one of our finest, Drew Perni III. From 3:45 to 5:00 I filmed both Drew and our friend Alex skating on the strip, a smoothly paved walkway starting from the bottom of the student center staircase and ending in front of the science library. It was definitely something I haven't done in a very long time because of the absent tools. I needed the equipment for one thing, the camera was broken and yet was still able to film, but only blindly. Both the LCD and the viewfinder broke while filming such such things as skateboarding, snowboarding, and escaping from the police. You'd expect me to say that it was finally fixed when really it wasn't, that's why I gave it the nickname "Ooch." The collar explains it, and so does the film. This also got me thinking. We all take damage, and as a result we heal it's a natural thing. After a fall we pick ourselves up, eventually building up a tolerance, and beatings of the body take different forms, shapes, and sizes and we still tough it out. I myself have taken such a beating over the years I have tentinitis in my left knee and countless scars, some with stories and some I cannot recall. Ooch is like me, and I am like Ooch. We do the same things. We keep filming, moving, ticking, acting, reacting, and laughing.

If anyone wants to watch the film, I'll play it after class tomorrow.

Peace, prosperity, and a little paper

Dang it.

I realize this is early. I downloaded the wrong assignment. *sighs*

This is my Literary Magazine review:

I read the October 2008 edition of Poetry literary magazine (Christian Wiman, Editor) for this assignment. It advertised Robert, Elizabeth Bishop, and Sarah Lindsay as featured poets on the cover which seems to imply that its readers are familiar with the poetry scene and that the featured poets are well-known. The cover is simple: a white background with a small burning house on the lower left side, the flames and smoke invading the center in a soft diagonal line.

Inside, I found the website for the magazine: poetrymagazine.org

The site featured a poem from each poet from the latest edition of the magazine which online audiences could read in addition to pictures of each poet. When I googled the poets, numerous results appeared and reinforced my assumption that to be in this literary magazine, poets have to be fairly well known and established.

What I first noticed while reading the magazine was the diction the poets used. It is stunning and effectively descriptive but very sophisticated. Some poems strayed from this but for the most part, each word seemed to be worth more than the word I would has used in its place. The poets are all older than I am and versed in the English language on a much higher level than I. A few poems mentioned characters that I did not recognize and I got the sense that you would have to be somewhat educated in the subject of history (or older literature) to understand them fully. Still, the mystery of the characters’ identities, I think, made them just as interesting if not more interesting. One poem depicted a young Amish girl stepping into a pile of snow outside of a fast food joint. It was short and simply put. In another poem by Eric Eckstrand (who I have fallen in love with), the speaker asks his sleeping audience if he or she has been visited by insects. The variety of content coupled with varying styles and structures made the poetry fascinating to me.

The second part of the magazine was a story/article titled “Bishop & Lowell: Words In Air” which detailed the relationship between Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell through letters and poems they exchanged. I found the second part less interesting than the first. Then there was a discussion about “Why the Great American Poem” is so hard to write.

The magazine was founded in 1912 by Harriet Monroe. I did not find a common theme in the issue or any evidence that each issue has a theme.

I loved the poetry portion of the magazine (the first thirty-two of its seventy-six pages). I will definitely read it again, the poems made me want to scrap all of my work and start over…we’ll see if that impulse pans out.