001 Ants and coffee cup notes
Some midweek thoughts, a piece from the vault, reading list and some notes on the publishing butterflies.
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“……I’m having fun discovering, chewing, and being challenged by the word “abridged” and using it to enter the next stage of muses, poems, imaginings and blogging……”
in the writing room:
This excerpt was a raw draft titled Ants, and now it’s a slightly less rough piece on pests and insects and the idea and feeling of being interrupted, stifled or trespassed upon in quiet solitary moments. Bye spring, the trap in the kitchen killed the remainder of you. I wake alone to coffee and a clean floor.
I’m the most romantic when writing about nature, if you haven’t already noticed. I find myself staring at ants on front-door carpets, cleaning on vacuum days, a nice cup of Columbian coffee (or so the label says it is), writing about frustration, skin and summer excitement. The sound of a train horn. The sound of a lake. Living beings of other species are much more interesting subjects than us. They’re grounding. I’m a bit less chipped on the shoulder and brooding than when writing about leaders and lovers, wars and friendships that beginning and end. It’s an escape into the cutest things I see on the day-to-day.
also here’s a reel for mid-week motivation:
On the bookshelf:
Never Let Me Go — Kazuo Ishiguro
Lives of Girls and Women — Alice Munro
Narrative Medicine — Rita Charon ( I’m a bit of a pathophysiology and bioethics nerd these days)
Notes on publishing poetry, nerves and red-penned editing sprayed everywhere:
my attention is fluttering reading Rust & Moth, an ekphrastic challenge, freshly cut grass, deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. The usual June activity. Preparing to launch writing into the world is like hosting either a wake or a bbq. I think the days are meant for writing for yourself, with an aberrant day to actually share the words. Speaking of which, I was getting nostalgic.
I wrote under a blog name I randomly thought up when i was like 17 for Tumblr. Isorosa and Isorosawords. After my first poetry name I tried self-publishing, submitting to Sunday Mornings at the River, making more writing on instagram and it led to a lockdown project to prove to myself I could have the courage to publish. I think it sold like 30 copies between friends and acquaintances and I was so proud for the small wins: Fading Notes, it is currently going through a metamorphosis, here’s a peek from the original:
I’m having fun discovering, chewing, and being challenged by the word “abridged” and using it to enter the next stage of muses, poems, imaginings and blogging.