"Writing" in my Head, "Reading" from Memory; the "Golden Nugget"

We're back from Anchorage--and the days are getting longer! Phil had a moment of genius and grabbed these very snazzy shades at the ophthalmologists'--turned out I really needed them to see to drive us home! As the evenings get longer, if the sun is out at all, it's right in your eyes and low in the sky for a significant part of the route home.

Having spent most of today preparing a practice midterm for my course (fighting the technology every step--it only forced me to redo about three of the longest questions two or three times apiece), having gotten through Valentines, Mardi Gras, two editing deadlines, and our Anchorage trip--oh, and two poetry performances over the weekend, I feel like I'm coming up for air this evening--knowing that I have the "real" midterm to prepare, as well as grading, preparing lectures, and more. Working a couple hours translating Greek dictionary entries has been a balm.

Within an overstretched week exacerbated by some poor self-management that caused the usual swings in my mercurial pendulum, I learned something to do with poetry, performing poetry, and its importance to me. This is the golden nugget that could be the salvation of my spun psyche and the justification for the quicksilveriness. And maybe the lithium, which simply means "made of rock," is the touchstone that will transform mercury to gold if I actually keep taking it!

In the midst of overwork, how have writerly and culinary creativity fared? The Valentine's day candies happened sort of betwixt and between as a "body" break (brain still engaged), as did a platter of beautiful goodies I made for our friends' son's Memorial on Sunday and didn't even remember to photograph! So much for the food creations--I'm still making them, but feeling little enthusiasm except for their reception.

What about my writing? I've been "writing" furiously in my head at all moments, but I haven't sat down to write as I need to for several days, especially with the disruption of the town trip. As I like to say, I begin to feel like an unmilked cow. This needs to change.

What an irony, too, that I say "I'm writing in my head," which isn't really writing at all, but is an allied cognitive/creative process, when so many people said how much they enjoyed my "reading" at the show on Saturday and at the Memorial on Sunday, when I wasn't actually "reading" at all: I performed from memory on both occasions!

"Out of the Woodwork" was a great show all round with so many rousing performances. It was a flashback to a past life for me, being surrounded by musician types, remembering the days when I'd be in rehearsals at least three or four nights every week. I felt honored to be part of the company. Also honored to share one other poem as well as the poem I wrote for our friends Tom and Jeanie on their son's death.

The experience, together with the response I received in feedback, was a reminder of how much I love to perform, and how important I think "poetry out loud" is as part of life. I'm a little wary of "thinking something's important" and then growing a sense of obligation toward it that stifles some of the sparkiness, but I also feel I'm at a stage in my life where "what's important" is what I need to focus on. I love to write. I love to make connections that are not always clear, and to do so in the most beautiful juxtapositions of words available to me. Despite--or perhaps because of--my nowhere girl accent, people like to hear me perform poetry. I love to perform and share words juxtaposed.

This is all true. Which means that truly, life is pretty good.

Turnagain Arm on the way home yesterday--this was before the shades came out!

What's your "golden nugget" this week?