The Swamp

I finished reading March, by Geraldine Brooks, a sort of inter-textual novel about what was going on with Mr. March and the Civil War during Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. Marmee (Mrs. March) goes to Washington to tend March in his severe illness. I was amazed at how pertinent this seemed:

It came to me that if the fortunes of this war do not turn, then maybe the city is destined to be no more than this: ruins, merely, sinking back into the swamp; the shards of an optimistic moment when a few dreamers believed you could build a nation upon ideas such as liberty and equality.

Wow! We hear all the "draining the swamp" talk, and here it's geographical as well as metaphorical: sinking back into the swamp. The Civil War then is a bit like the civil war now, with our volatile divisiveness. And, indeed, if we don't turn things around, and soon, our democracy is at great risk, and our country will only sink further.

It makes me sad.

But I did file my papers today to run again as a precinct committeeperson to help get out the vote and to help local people stay energized and informed. It's a Blue Monday because I'm a Democratic committeeperson and a Random Coinciday because who knew a 2005 novel about the 1860s would be so resonant right now!

I read the paperback version, so the quotation comes from pages 215-216.

This Moment...

Goodness, I can't believe I missed the whole month of October here in the blog. Yes, I continue to be busy, with necessary downtime between tasks and events. At an event in November, I read poems from a new book, This Moment...in Sarah's Garden, for which I had written poems in the voice of Sarah Davis to accompany photographs by Ken Kashian. That's it above, accordian style, with its box and inserts, which include a packet of poppy seeds and a booklet about the history of David and Sarah Davis, their letters, her garden, and you can learn more about it at Ken's Artist Book site here. After a busy week of meetings and events, including a story slam last night, I am having a grand Slattern Day today, of rest, reading, grocery shopping, and an at-home movie, borrowed from the library. My Cousin Rachel, based on the book by Daphne du Maurier, but not exactly the same story.

I am reading March, by Geraldine Brooks, borrowed from a co-worker at the library, and I can't wait to see Little Women in the theatre this Christmas! My son saw the Winona Ryder version one Christmas when he was a little boy and fell in love with it/her. I hope he'll go see this one with me; I hope my daughter will, too! March is gory and gruesome enough that I might get my son to read it over his Christmas break with us, too! My daughter has enjoyed books I've recommended, and I have shelves and shelves for her to choose from when she comes home for Christmas.

Perhaps all this movie watching and novel reading is escapism...from politics, despair, impeachment hearings, desperate reality. But Monday I will turn in my ballot petition to run again as a precinct committeeperson, because I have to do something. Of course I will vote. And see the new Tom Hanks movie about Mr. Rogers. "Look for the helpers."

Her Firstborn

I just re-read a book of short stories, Swim Back to Me, by Ann Packer, because I had noticed what I wrote down in my reading journal from the first time I read this book and wanted to revisit the whole experience. 

Such wonderful stories, linked by character or theme so that the book somehow holds together as...a whole. The first time, I was struck by certain things in the closing story, "Things Said or Done," about regrets. 

That story's title comes from a stanza of the Yeats poem "Vacillation."

Things said or done long years ago,
Or things I did not do or say
But thought that I might say or do,
Weigh me down, and not a day
But something is recalled,
My conscience or my vanity appalled.

Yes, I get that. And I was very moved and astonished by "Things Said and Done," particularly a woman's insight about what she did wrong in her marriage based on her upbringing: "I began picking at him over tiny annoyances--because the big annoyance, the fact that he wasn't paying enough attention to me, was too unreasonable for me to recognize at that point, let alone communicate. When I wasn't picking at him I was picking at the rest of mankind, going on and on about some slight, a minor social disappointment, an achievement inadequately rewarded. I was twenty-five, I thought it was just a matter of time before people shaped up and started acting as I wanted. Such is the lot of the narcissist's child, to inherit her parent's umbrage over the world's indifference." Well said. I won't say why.

But this time I was struck by something in the penultimate story, "Her Firstborn." A man is coming to understand something about his wife, who was married before. He's "had it all wrong: it isn't that Lise had a baby who died, but rather that she had a baby, who died." Yes, exactly.

Tonight I saw a lovely production of a lovely play, The Electric Baby, by Stefanie Zadravec, about a baby who glows like the moon...and about regrets. There's a woman picking at her husband in a troubled marriage. There's a young woman at the cradle of her firstborn.

This was the night of the full moon. This was a wonderful "random coinciday."

Birds of a Feather

I’d been working on a poetry feature at Escape Into Life—of poems with birds in them—when the Audubon Society informed me, via Facebook, that we were coming up on National Wildlife Day, so why not celebrate with birds?! Happy National Wildlife Day! And Poetry Someday here in my blog. And Random Coinciday! (It’s fun to be blogging again!) (Where was I?!)(Oh, yeah.*)

Please enjoy Birds of a Feather: Poetry & Art at Escape Into Life! The flamingo painting you see here is by Ilya Zomb.

*I have been oddly busy in a number of different ways. I told you about walking in the Labor Day Parade, twice, and that was only this past Monday. Over the last few years, I have walked in many local parades and attended various meetings, vigils, rallies, and marches because OMG, I have to do something, right?! Writing poetry and submitting it got a little pushed to one side, but that’s started up again, as has my heart, and creativity pushed on me enough to put me back in a play or two. My body, again, had to do something.

Today I began walking the precinct again, collecting signatures (3) to run again as Democratic Precinct Committeeperson—to help get out the vote on March 17, 2020 and November 3, 2020. Hoping to help turn things around.

Back to birds of a feather. Birds of a bright yellow feather—goldfinches—are coming to eat the seedheads of my purple coneflowers! My husband, a painter, and I are birds of a feather, and he initially wanted to meet me as he sees poetry and painting as sister arts. He has art up in a show opening this weekend in St. Louis. It’s the Anew Exhibition at Intersect Arts Center, about healing from violence, opening September 7 and closing October 4, 2019. If you are near St. Louis during that time, I hope you can go see it!

Labor Day

Well, you may not be able to step in the same river twice, but, evidently, you can walk in the same Labor Day Parade twice! I walked with the McLean County Democrats, at the 16^th position in the parade and, once we had reached our destination at Miller Park, walked back and joined McLean County Moms Demand Action, positioned as 60^th in a parade of 90+ organizations, many of them, of course, labor unions!

It was great to walk back, twice, and see the carpenters, painters, letter carriers, theatrical stagehands, and other workers, along with lots of school bands! Congrats to all!

With the Moms, a nonpartisan group, I think I effectively masked my blue Democrat shirt with my orange “We Can End Gun Violence” sign, flip side, “Everytown USA.” Everytown USA is the umbrella organization for the various Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America chapters. With both groups, we encountered enthusiasm, thanks, and applause. Thanks for all your support at this crucial and sad time in America! Whatever your political party, you can vote for Gun Sense candidates, who support sensible gun safety legislation and who don’t take money from the NRA. Listen closely to what all candidates say on this issue if it’s one you care about. And I hope you do.

Today at Escape Into Life, we are celebrating Labor Day with poems with work, of all sorts, in them. And fantastic carpentry-oriented art by Drew Tyndall, one of our past EIL featured artists.

Happy Labor Day to you!