Whew! Not much of a Slattern Day. I attended a 1/2-day steering committee retreat, and my brain went mushy. Red wine is reviving me, and a friend, thank God, has invited us for dinner. (I did, however, cook a small early dinner for our daughter. Fortunately, I was untidy doing it, though I wore an apron, so, again, perhaps not slatternly enough.) She* took a nap. I did not. Red wine and no nap might mean...something. Also, I did not do laundry. And tomorrow is busy, too. Ack!
My son sent me the link to Sherwood Anderson's letters to his son at Brainpickings. He** gets us. And we get him. We are so lucky in our children. They 1) love us 2) understand that we are artists 3) are artists themselves. Poor them. O, happy them!
My sister is about to open in Cleopatra, a dance theatre project at Columbus Dance Theatre in Columbus, Ohio. She is magnificent. Here is a short article on her in Spotlights, a publication of Otterbein University, where she teaches. This is her sabbatical project. (It mentions me because I am her acting coach, a great privilege. It was also a privilege to watch her husband at work, as a dancer-choreographer!) We rehearsed in Ohio and Illinois, and the dancers rehearsed/are rehearsing in Ohio and Maryland, and the costumer blogs!
My sister sent me a beautiful handwritten letter on delicate brown paper. Very banks-of-the-Nile.
In poetry news, my poem "Current Photograph, Old Boyfriend" just aired on WGLT Poetry Radio, and here it is as a podcast with "Oozin' the Blues" by Randy Kohrs. It's based on a real photograph of a real boyfriend and his wife's actual comment, but after that becomes a composite "boyfriend" in case you were worried about him. And a real garden and a real asparagus patch. I've forgotten how the boyfriends, male friends, motorcycles, and motorscooters all line up. But pondering this reminded me that I was once married to a man with a motorcycle. I forget, but I think it was blue.
*This indefinite "she" refers, correctly, to both friend and daughter.
**This indefinite "he" shall remain indefinite, but probably refers to both son and Anderson.
The Christmas tree is partly unclothed, reduced to its white and red ornaments, its snowflakes, icicles, stars, and butterflies. And hearts. It is a Valentine's Tree.
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I've been an encyclopedia editor, a poetry editor, an actor and director, a library clerk, and an assistant professor of English. Now I'm a freelancer, work part time in a library, blog "eight days a week," study the random, tend perennials, and listen to birdsong.