Monday, May 12, 2008

A week in May

I have fallen off the radar, again. I let the entire month of April, National Poetry month, go by without a single blog entry. However, I did not let the month slip by completely unnoticed. I squeaked in a lunchtime poetry reading at work on April 30, with the help of a poet colleague of mine, Charles. We shared the microphone and had a decent turnout. We also recorded our reading and Charles is working at creating an MP3 file. Once this happens, I will post our reading on my blog and facebook profile.

Otherwise, my attention to poetry has been slipping. I haven't been attending the Planet Earth Poetry series at the Black Stilt Cafe as regularly as in the past -- I am so drained by the end of the week, and I want to spend my time resting at home, and letting my ideas gestate. It reassured me to know that the likes of P.K. Page admitted to not writing a single poem for years, and she managed to come back into the spotlight. Life does have a way of shifting in waves. Right now, my focus is on my upcoming wedding. I do manage to write the odd poem, and I am working at finishing my draft of Turnstiles. It is all work, and exploration. I am also frustrated that I am not being accepted for publication of the poems I do spend time with and send out into the world, heart full of hope. I've entered random poems and contests for publication, and only received pleasant rejection letters. I believe it is all timing, and perhaps my time hasn't arrived yet. I won't give up.

I find that my day job, writing for the government, is sucking me dry. I once had a poetry prof warn me that if I choose a career in writing, the last thing I will want to do is come home at night and write. I am grateful for my work flex days, my writing days. I wish I could work from home every day as a writer.

1 comment:

W. Stranger said...

Hello Andrea,

Just checking in to see what's new.

Your blog reminded me that I haven't written a poem in about 6 years. For me, I guess I got sidetracked by other life experiences and pursuits. Reflecting a bit on it now, I guess poetry is a genre of creative writing that simply ceased to be relevant. That's not a statement on the value of poetry, but purely a statement on my own personal transformations over the past decade.

Maybe I'll try and whip something up and post it to my blog for old time's sake.

Take care.
pjt