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bostonpoetryslam: Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “Cenzóntle” published in The Paris American

bostonpoetryslam: Marcelo Hernandez Castillo, “Cenzóntle” published in The Paris American

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Nina Paley, of Sita Sings The Blues. Time-line to the above here. Pretty incredible.

from Erika Moen

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Friday evening. Boxing class. Today, I need a bulldozer to go over my back.

Friday evening. Boxing class. Today, I need a bulldozer to go over my back.

Fishtrap

Two weeks ago I headed out to Wallowa county in eastern Oregon, where I had the good fortune to be a part of Fishtrap's summer gathering. My week there was spent teaching poetry to youngsters and hanging out amongst the evergreens and mountains of the Northwest. It was awesome as that sounds. The kids were amazing. Deer were everywhere. Was surrounded by a completely different community of writers and lovers of literature. Learned more on William Stafford. If I wanted to use my phone I had to drive twenty minutes towards town. I got to meet Naomi Shihab Nye who’s heart is an incredible ball of energy and generosity. I also to to meet Luis and Cindy Urrea who’s energies are generous balls of incredible heart. I got to share my work with people who had no idea who I was. I got the best introduction to date from Fishtrap’s Program Manager, Mike Midlo, who voiced that he didn’t know if Anis Mojgani was a great poet, but he knew we were going to be friends, something I completely concur with.

As is always the case, I romanticize the possibility of writing while traveling. I have a book to finish and figured that being secluded in a part of the country I love, immersed in a creative community, with only mornings to teach and the rest of the day to my own devices, that I would be able to anchor myself to the poems and pictures I needed to work on. After eight and a half years doing this, you’d think I know that for me, traveling and writing just do not mix. I got some work done but not all that I had hoped. But that’s alright. This summer has been one mostly built out of noise and attempting to find it, combat it, and to let the noise go. The week helped with that. Sleeping in a small cabin in a small place in the left corner of the country, meeting good people, sharing what you love about poetry with eager writer, waking early to Northwest sunlight there.  Amongst this the quiet in me was allowed to resurface, even if only a little bit. But it is bit by bit we become smooth. And the lake was cold, deliciously cold.

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A rule for success

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Realized this morning, that if you strived to combine the strengths of Mole, Ratty, Toad, and Badger, you’d do alright in this world.

Dinner, 16th. Breakfast, 17th.

A couple of weeks ago, I got hired by The Music Bed to do my first commissioned poem. They’re a site that basically curates the work of musicians for film and television projects to seek out and hire. They’re launching a campaign in August for a storytelling contest and wanted me to write and shoot something with them. So Christian and Max drove down from Dallas/Fort Worth today, we grabbed some BBQ tacos from Valentina’s and then shot at my house this afternoon. Look for the finished piece next month!

THEME BY PARTI