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January 2011
The Process
For me, poetry strikes like lightning. Fiction, on the other hand, is pure toil. Sometimes, it's the toil of really great sex. Sometimes it's more like playing solo tag with Dick Butkus wearing a Minnesota Vikings uniform and covered in hot dogs. Sometimes you just get Dick, you know?Archives
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ExpositionJournal Poetry Listening To
Moroccan Spirit, Paris Combo, Peggy Lee, Jacques Dutronc, White Stripes, Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire, Cake, Nick Drake, Black Eyed Peas, Azam Ali, The Kinks, The Beatles, Old Blind Dogs, The Vines, Francoise Hardy
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« Texan in Transit | Main | suddenly missing » September 28, 2006
Wow And what a year. I moved halfway across the country (again), left a job without prospects (again), but am so much better off when I last experienced this purposeful craziness. I am back in Texas, this time in Austin, and I love it. It was the right emotional decision to make. Financial? I'm still waiting to see that pan out but I have not yet begun to get desperate or to lose hope. Quick Updates: Whew. Okay, so there were plenty of reasons not to update the journal. Posted by rowan at September 28, 2006 11:29 AM |
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