I don't make light of the term "starving," given the hunger in the world. It's true I've used the colloquialism, "I'm starving," to mean "I'm really hungry," but that was more when I was younger and not thinking in the larger context. I try not to do that now.
But I was struck by the short story "Starving," inside the novel-in-stories Olive Kitteridge, by Elizabeth Strout, when Olive says to a young woman who is truly starving, from anorexia nervosa, "We're all starving," meaning emotionally. Or spiritually. We are all hungry for something we lack.
"Why do you think I eat every doughnut in sight?" she asks the young woman, who gets it. Sympathy and empathy are achieved.
And the Snodgrass poems also have something wonderfully obsessive about them, with a Gertrude Stein-like repetitiveness, and an odd mix of calm and chaos, of the sort Lee Price is creating, too, in her paintings. What a lucky match this time.
Above, Lemon Meringue, by Lee Price. Below, Strawberry Shortcake III.
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I worked as an actor, wrote for an encyclopedia, edited a literary magazine, and taught college English courses. Now I write poetry, blog "eight days a week," and listen to birdsong.