breathless gush of i'm-back-ness!
dear invisible listeners! (this is how walter benjamin began one of his radio broadcast book-reviews, so endearing)
i've been away for so long. I was overcome w/ bashfulness, like, who was i to claim blog-space, it seemed at once abject and grandiose, esp as i did not aspire to poetry pundit-dom but rather to cyber-connectedness regardless of content; it turned out i enjoyed writing about food preparation and the weather, as in, the view from my writing window(s), always a source of inspiration, from Literature Nation to whthrrhthms. I can't really enjoy a cup of coffee unless i can look out the window at a tree; i remember explaining this to Pierre Joris and Nicole Peyrafitte when they hosted me at their gorgeous Albany mansion at some conference long ago, organized by Chris Funkhouser among others. That was a lovely visit; i met their cat, Pillule, and their sons Joe and Miles, and read a book, Le Pirate Badaboum, to Miles. Right now i'm procrastinating working on a paper for the Modernist Studies Association, on New Directions in Poetics, a panel operated by, flown by, no, chaired and organized by, Barrett Watten, so the theoretical, polemical and intellectual stakes are h-h-h-high (oy v-v-v-vey iz mir); there's so much to say and it's hard to stay calm and rational on such a topic, so i'm taking refuge in the past; writing quite sketchily on Du Bois and Benjamin as forerunners of a poetry and cultural studies as well as an embodied poetics in their inspired styles, both heavily imbued with Enlightenment dialectics and breaking away therefrom. hmm, i'm enjoying paraphrasing my as-yet unformed paper more than i'm enjoying writing it...
Last wkend had a great time w/ Adeena Karasick, doing a "simultaneous jewissance" presentation of mutual scholarly/creative influence, to a grad student conference, Articulations, at the Theatre Dept here at the UMN. Her energy is so intense it carries me along with it and makes it easy to play with words in a heightened way; the eroto-linguistics of performance...
And what else...my garden is...tiny nascent white raspberries re-forming on wild stalks, of course it'll frost over and plunge into winter b4 these little gems have a chance to actualize themselves in my mouth...and the jasmine has turned to spindly pinwheel seedpods across the vacant ex-dog-run area...and the buckeye tree in back has shed all its geriatric leaves while the willow tree in front hasn't even yellowed yet, still deep green...
and here Marjorie Welish made me promise i wouldn't turn into a "let me tell you about my garden" writer...
anyway, this is my letter to the world, which sometimes even does write back. but how do i get those stupid ads out of my comment box? and people have tried to tell me how to link to others' blogs so i can do the network thing and give back to those who are giving to me but my eyes glaze over when i read their instructions...sorry tim, sorry nick. i'll try. xo, md
i've been away for so long. I was overcome w/ bashfulness, like, who was i to claim blog-space, it seemed at once abject and grandiose, esp as i did not aspire to poetry pundit-dom but rather to cyber-connectedness regardless of content; it turned out i enjoyed writing about food preparation and the weather, as in, the view from my writing window(s), always a source of inspiration, from Literature Nation to whthrrhthms. I can't really enjoy a cup of coffee unless i can look out the window at a tree; i remember explaining this to Pierre Joris and Nicole Peyrafitte when they hosted me at their gorgeous Albany mansion at some conference long ago, organized by Chris Funkhouser among others. That was a lovely visit; i met their cat, Pillule, and their sons Joe and Miles, and read a book, Le Pirate Badaboum, to Miles. Right now i'm procrastinating working on a paper for the Modernist Studies Association, on New Directions in Poetics, a panel operated by, flown by, no, chaired and organized by, Barrett Watten, so the theoretical, polemical and intellectual stakes are h-h-h-high (oy v-v-v-vey iz mir); there's so much to say and it's hard to stay calm and rational on such a topic, so i'm taking refuge in the past; writing quite sketchily on Du Bois and Benjamin as forerunners of a poetry and cultural studies as well as an embodied poetics in their inspired styles, both heavily imbued with Enlightenment dialectics and breaking away therefrom. hmm, i'm enjoying paraphrasing my as-yet unformed paper more than i'm enjoying writing it...
Last wkend had a great time w/ Adeena Karasick, doing a "simultaneous jewissance" presentation of mutual scholarly/creative influence, to a grad student conference, Articulations, at the Theatre Dept here at the UMN. Her energy is so intense it carries me along with it and makes it easy to play with words in a heightened way; the eroto-linguistics of performance...
And what else...my garden is...tiny nascent white raspberries re-forming on wild stalks, of course it'll frost over and plunge into winter b4 these little gems have a chance to actualize themselves in my mouth...and the jasmine has turned to spindly pinwheel seedpods across the vacant ex-dog-run area...and the buckeye tree in back has shed all its geriatric leaves while the willow tree in front hasn't even yellowed yet, still deep green...
and here Marjorie Welish made me promise i wouldn't turn into a "let me tell you about my garden" writer...
anyway, this is my letter to the world, which sometimes even does write back. but how do i get those stupid ads out of my comment box? and people have tried to tell me how to link to others' blogs so i can do the network thing and give back to those who are giving to me but my eyes glaze over when i read their instructions...sorry tim, sorry nick. i'll try. xo, md
posted by hyperpoesia @ 8:45 AM
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