Blue Horizon

I woke to a thunderstorm early this morning and thought, "No lap swimming." Really, there was a huge noise at the crack of dawn, and I learned on my way to lap swimming that a tree in the neighborhood had been sheared by lightning, strips of its bark in the street. Because, yes!--it cleared up by 7:45, and I got to the pool by 8:00, for the last half hour of Early Bird Lap Swim.

Before I could get a song in my head, "Swimmin' in the Rain," lyrics improvised to the tune of "Singin' in the Rain" but to the rhythm of the Australian crawl, I heard the blared music of the Aquacize class, "YMCA." That was fine, too.

What you see here on Blue Monday in the blog are beautiful photographs by my daughter, also on view at Ave Rio Photography, with shades of blue in them! The pink blooms are from this April, and the blue sunset is from this June, which ends tonight, probably again in thunderstorm.

Looking Back

The radio news is full of war, and not just the current struggles but also World War I, as it began 100 years ago with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. This Reuters article notes striking parallels between the current state of the world and the state of the world then. Sigh...

John Guzlowski is looking back on his reading, his losses, and World War II in these poems in Escape Into Life, posted with beautiful and heartbreaking art by Margarita Georgiadis, also seen here in paintings titled Time Past and Anointed.

I've been looking back at my own poems this spring and summer, as I revise and submit them and prepare and revise chapbook and full-length manuscripts for submission. Since we are six months into 2014, I realized I should do a tally toward the 100 Rejections project again, and, after struggling only a weensy bit with the inevitable math of it, I came up with totals that actually added up! I have sent out 42 submissions, had 15 acceptances and 11 rejections; 15 packets are pending, and 1 is an N/A as it was returned unread since the publisher is backlogged. And it was a nice return.

What a busy time it's been and will continue to be this summer and fall. I like it, but I am also glad of down time, quiet mornings on the patio, steady breathing in the pool during meditative lap swimming, reading books of poems and short stories, and moments just staring at the petals of flowers or listening to birdsong.

Speaking of Swimsuits

Speaking of swimsuits, I recently learned about the Tata Top, possibly pictured below. (Delicate eyes want to know.) Heads up: this is a Random Coinciday in the blog, so things may zig, and they may zag. For instance, what you see here is Vivien Leigh in Caesar and Cleopatra. (Clearly, not wearing a Tata Top, nor a swimsuit at all. Great braids.) Since it's in black and white, this may qualify as a Throwback Thursday, but, given the #FreeTheNipple aspect of the Tata Top, it's also a Thor's Day in the blog. With a pink hammer. (I am for breastfeeding and for funding breast cancer research. There are all kinds of ways to do these things. If you are for these things, you will find your own way.) I don't know why I keep bumping into Vivien Leigh. And, in case you were wondering, my new swimsuit has not yet disintegrated! And this morning I swam in dense fog. Which means nothing in a swimming pool!

Speaking of the body, here's a beautiful riff on the beauty of the body by Paulette Beete, who is writing about her body these days in her blog. It made me look at my toes, which seemed strangely beautiful because I had painted them red to dress them up so I could wear flip flops to the theatre last night. The only bright red nail polish in the house (to match my red shirt) was called Phantom Freaks; it was blood-colored, for Halloween, but it worked just fine.

Speaking of freaky and strangely beautiful things, here is a very short film made to one of my poems, "Daughter of Midas," read by Nic Sebastian of The Poetry Storehouse. The filmmaker is Othniel Smith of Cardiff, Wales, using archival video for his darkly humorous poetry mashup. He's also a playwright and theatre and film reviewer, a man of many talents. I love the little final touch--to the glasses, by the window dresser.

Here are  some more figs by Jonathan Koch. And here is a parade of lady parts, featured at a website run by a man but written by women, named for a strange undergarment of days gone by (the bustle). And that's a Random Coinciday in the blog!

Young at Heartland

Imaginary soundtrack: rap song collage of Blanche DuBois saying, "Clothes are my passion" and "Sometimes--there's God--so quickly!" and "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers."* Why? Because Friday morning, as I got ready for Early Bird Lap Swim, my husband, from bed, said, "Is your swimsuit see through?"

I denied it, saying it was getting a little thin on the sides, yes, but nowhere important. But, he could see my backside. Really. Please pardon me, Friday morning lap swim pals!

But then....! In the afternoon, I went to the Young at Heartland Showcase, a set of scenes and monologues performed by the 55+ acting troupe that I've been working with as an instructor, along with Sarah Salazar. It was joyous, hilarious, and wonderful! If you are local, you must come see it Wednesday night, June 25, at 7:30, at Heartland Theatre. And be sure to see Fowl Plays, the 10-Minute Play Festival, too, if you haven't already. Fowl Plays runs through June 29, but the YAH Showcase has only one more show in the theatre; otherwise, they tour.

Anyhoo, I received gifts! The perfect journal, Notes of a Dramaturg (that's what I'm doing next at Heartland, for the Mike Dobbins Memorial New Plays from the Heartland one-act play contest, so I will take notes in this journal!), a card saying, "Actors speak louder than words" (true), and a gift card to TJ Maxx, which allowed me to buy a new, non-see-through swimsuit!

Today, even though it is Slattern Day in the blog (and I don't think Blanche DuBois did any dishes), I was not a slattern. I woke early, wrote down an important dream, washed dishes, folded laundry, and then got on my bike to join a small biking group. We met at Uptown Circle (aka the water feature), and I got to watch workers take down a big tent. Why? Today was a whole music festival! Why not leave it up for the bands? Then we rode many miles, even all the way out to see my folks and beyond! And back!

I was the only girl. (This has nothing to do with the swimsuit incident, though one of the bikers is also one of the swimmers.) Many miles. I will probably be a little sore in the morning. When I teach the Early Bird Poetry Class.

*Not that they are strangers anymore! Actors or swimmers! Or bikers!

Figgy paintings by Jonathan Koch. Blanche DuBois by Tennessee Williams.

Revising My Compost Bin

A couple years ago, following the instructions on an Internet video, I created a compost bin out of an old garbage can! I was delighted with myself. And, on down the road, with the compost. Which...composted rather slowly...and which I did not therefore use that regularly. But this year's balsam seeds, planted in a bed enriched by compost, have risen. Looking ginormously healthy.

So this year I revised my compost bin. This was like creating and revising a poem. I thought about it, I gathered materials (boards at hand in the woodpile, the usual suspects of pitchfork and hose), and, without nails or hammer, assembled a diamond inside a square former sandbox, into which I dumped the compost, covering it with re-purposed boards that can be easily lifted to add more compost or to stir it or to scoop it out for use.The earthworms---already in the earth!---can easily find it, and no more insects will die, trapped inside a plastic former garbage can, unless they want to live their entire life eating compost.There are holes in the boards or slats between them...so they can get out!

Anyhoo. It's been that kind of day, and that kind of spring. Many, many small things accomplished daily in dribs and drabs, and much blooming. Currently: gloriosa daisies, purple echinacea, yellow snapdragons, blue lobelia, pale blue flax, the trellis roses, the pinks, blue and red grape spiderwort, and the ginormous golden columbine. Plus, stuff in hanging pots!

Sudden poem acceptances---yay! Tomorrow I attend a gala honoring wonderful local history makers. (I wrote the script for the entertainment at this event, performed by some marvelous singers and musicians, and directed by Rhys Lovell, himself a brilliant actor...who was a little boy when I was a teen summer drama workshop leader for the Parks & Recreation Department. Ah, life.) Friday I attend the showcase performance of the Young at Heartland theatre troupe, people 55+ who have taken up acting later in life, often after their careers in something else, or during their careers in something else. It's been a joy to work with them as an instructor in their current session. Many thanks to Julie Kistler for covering these and other theatre and arts events in A Follow Spot.

Hmm, speaking of a follow spot...this isn't that. It looks more like a movie projector, right? Projecting a bird. Anyway, today, you can find the neato, cool, "Dear Teen Me" poet Kelly Cockerham (and a "Mockingbird") up at Escape Into Life, with art by Ryan Mrozowski, which you also see here. In Dead Men's Float, The Enthusiasts, and Bird Test. It's a Random Coinciday and a Poetry Someday on the Hump of the Week.