"Begin the Beguine" by Cole Porter.
While I was busy, the balsam began to bloom in my yard. I have sprinkled its seeds here and there, and it is beautiful. I am about to "unplug" for a week or so, to focus on The Language Archive, by Julia Cho, and to spend time with my family wamily. Meanwhile, the pink blossoms will pour out their beauty.
Beguine was till I went to Wikipedia to learn a bit more about that lovely song. It's a Christian lay woman who did not marry. Now I want to know more, which is what always happens when I learn a little. Likewise, with L.L. Zamenhof, the inventor of Esperanto, the language of hope. We need more of that--hope, and a way to communicate beyond our divisions--in the world today. He tried so hard to help foster a world without war. Tonight I saw The Railway Man, a war movie about reconciliation. With Colin Firth. Enough said.
Here's some fun advice from Bitter Gertrude about what makes her happy with a new play. Having read several new plays lately, I tend to agree! Stop writing flat characters, stereotypes, and the "expected" in hopes of pleasing people and "selling" your work. Write the real, I advise!
short review of girl show, by Kristy Bowen, at Prick of the Spindle--my latest Poetry Cheerleader column. And over at Escape Into Life is a wonderful review, by Julie C. Graham, of Let Me Clear My Throat by Elena Passarello, all about voice. Literally, the voice. OK, back...to the future! Of the abundant pink balsam!
On the Street…Lafayette St., New York
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