Today will be my long day at work; we have New Student Orientation tonight. I love students at this stage: the hope, the optimism, the determination. I wonder what happens to make it all evaporate/drain away steadily?
It's probably the same story for them as it is for most of us: a combination of daily life challenges combined with a setback that derails us.
Perhaps a more interesting question: what makes some of us return, often again and again, with hope, optimism, and determination, to an arena where we've failed before?
I've been intrigued by the many poets who are committed to returning to blogging this year; many of them once had regular blogs which made me yearn to be a blogger. Here's hoping for lots more blog posts to read in 2018! I've always found it very inspiring.
At one point during our trip, I thought about my longer poem that was inspired by our last trip to Southern California. It's composed of 3 poems that are thematically linked with a prose poem between each of them. I've wondered if I should force myself to try writing longer work, to go deeper. Or perhaps I should experiment with linking more of my poems into something longer.
I'd like to get back to writing at least one poem every week. I've got that rusty feeling that comes from being away from the writing desk too long. Let me record some ideas that might become poems later this week:
--I never did write the poem about Jesus getting a dog.
--One of our planes was a 777, with an amazing first class section, with seats that could recline into beds. I'd requested a cheese platter as my lunch, which would have impressed me more, if I hadn't had a super-duper amazing cheese platter at a wine bar the previous night.
--When I thought about going to San Diego, I had planned to go to the bar that was in the ritzy hotel where we spent the first part of our trip. I wanted to try some craft cocktails. It sounds so lovely, doesn't it? Craft cocktail. But when I read the descriptions, I thought, "These might be lovely. On the other hand, these aren't flavors that I think of as going together." I stuck with red wine.
What does that say about me, that I want to be a woman who drinks craft cocktails, but I'm happier with cheapish red wine?
Every night, the ritzy hotel set out a hot chocolate bar in the lobby--completely free, with all sorts of toppings. Do I want to work in that detail?
--I keep thinking about all the homeless people who are so evident in San Diego. I think about the tent cities in parking lots that I saw out of the trolley on our way to Old Town. I think about walking back to the swanky hotel after the Christmas Eve church service. We saw people sleeping on the ground, and I thought about the Gospel and what it means when there's no room at the inn. On every block, people settled down to sleep on sidewalks and huddled beside buildings as Christmas Eve moved to Christmas morning. Would those juxtapositions make for good poetry?
Speaking of beginning again, it's time to get to spin class. Time to get back to more rigorous exercise!
Best Essay Collections of 2017 by Women Authors
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