Reflections of Studio in the Woods

In May of 2010, I went on a field writing seminar to Louisiana. I have been thinking about the trip as of late because it's been almost exactly two years since I was there, and one of my co-worker's, Matt Decker, (check out his travel blog here: http://mattsdecker.blogspot.com/) is on a road trip with his father, and his posts reminded me of my time down south.

As part of the travel writing seminar, the group kept daily journals. I recently pulled mine off the shelf and found myself reflecting on notes that I took at A Studio in the Woods in New Orleans. Some of my notes from the trip made it into several essays and poems, but some of what I jotted down stayed just as is: notes in a journal. I thought I'd share my notes/ journal scribblings from my day at Studio in the Woods here, not to allow them to take on another form, but simply to transcribe and to share my experience.

We were in a young forest that used to be a sugar cane plantation in the 1800's. Forests sometimes mature between 200-500 years. Our guide, David Baker, led us on a nature walk and he explained how the owners of Studio in the Woods were told they needed to eradicate the invasive plants, specifically the Chinese Privat Plant, the plant is like a shrub. Invasive species decrease growth rates of other plants... he explained how Hurricane Katrina, when removed from a sociological perspective will be good for nature as forests adapt to the category 3 (and above) storms in 20-25 years-- Katrina defoliated the canopy and broke it up.

(An Illustration from AD: New Orleans After the Deluge... a wonderful Graphic Novel by Josh Neufeld) The Hurricane flooded the city, not man, because the winds broke the levee, not men. Though others argue that it was the builder's fault. By focusing on the sociological perspective of Katrina, we overlooked the ecological perspective of the importance of the storm. When big trees go down in a storm, the canopy is removed and the trees are competitive. When the canopy is closed, the trees don't grow, they just hang out.

After our walk, we sat with Louisiana Poet Laurette, Darrell Bourque, and listened to him give a talk and a writing workshop. We listened to music by Dr. Michael White, a jazz musician and intellectual, who composed a song while at Studio in the Woods, he played music and the birds responded to the music, which helped him to compose "Dictation from God." I couldn't find the song online, but here is a taste of Dr. Michael White's Music. While sitting outdoors, surrounded by nature, Bourque asked us to consider Inscape---> What does it mean? What happens on the inside? Search for it in poetry, he said. More notes from his talk: Art & Science are related to one another: we are fated to be hardwired OR we are constantly in flux (ourselves, our cells, are telling us to be a bird or snake or something we are not).

(Picture by: Rosie Music) Poems are between imagining and analyzing. Locate a story and piece in the world you know (language that can be held onto)---> later it has to become more than language---> it has to live. Always look for divergence in your written work, move from the experiential world into the intelligences--->find whether you fly or slither. A meditation on death: How do you paint nothing? Paint life.

Typewriter Thursday

(Adorable Image By: Rebekka Seale)

I have just finished reading a batch of my students' argument in media papers that focused on the power of Internet and news, copyright laws, gaming, and all things electronic/ technological advancement, and after reading their words (funny I am reflecting here as this blog comes in the E-format), I got to thinking about writing on a typewriter, and how different their papers would be if we were focusing on media in the 70's, how much more would have gone into ignoring the backspace as much as possible (for fear of running out of correction tape). I also got to thinking about how much I love looking at typewriters: they remind me of animated creatures somehow. So after getting to thinking, I got to collecting (as I do) images of those now nostalgic mechanical devices, and I'd like to share them here, and my stories that go with them. This Cake album is one that stands out to me. I remember when I first got the Comfort Eagle cd, my sister sang along to this song with me, in a rather loud way. My favorite line was, of course, the first line. (This album also has the "We Are Building a Religion" song that my mom thought was "too weird" and turned off in a polite manner one day when we were driving together.)

A few weekends ago, I went to a wedding, and since my boyfriend was a groomsman, I had some free time to wander in an antique store, I fell upon these beauties (but thought $50 something was too much... oh the Eastern Shore in Maryland). I bought some gifts there, however, and I couldn't hold them all, so I asked if I could stack them on the cash register while I continued to look, and the very eccentric cashier told me, "Please do. I like piles." YES. Thrift stores and antique stores really do rely upon piles, and there is an art to it, the same way words sound like they are piling when being typed. And now some really great illustrations/photos (in no particular order)

Image from: A WHOLE AMAZING SITE... dedicated to typewriters.

Image by: Emily. Her work is so dreamy.

Image of how I may feel typing to all of you out there... friendly strangers though, I hope.

Found on We Heart It. This is good advice that I need to follow more often, we all should, even if it's just one line a day, and on that note:

(Image from ecojotter thoughts.) Ps. I am sure I will have another Typewriter Thursday as there are just too many fabulous images out there.

Found Poetry

The other day, my boyfriend and I were taking a walk through Blohm Park, as we made our way across a bridge, we saw the little lovely bit of graffiti above... what is poet illogic? I have so many ideas.

This poem relates to poet illogic... somehow: (From Hello Poetry) I'll Robot Make by: Francis Scudellari ...As my illogic breaks, I'll robot make/ to be this soul's chamber,/ robbing a piecemeal joy from misfit toys/ tossed out for fine tuning/ by toddlers cheery mad to gorge on fads./ I'll take their T-Rex head,/with droopy lids that wink as if to drink/the world's wide-shallow stares... For the full version go HERE

My eyes are always open to poetry especially in April, but now that it's May, I'm sad as National Poetry Month is behind us, but I'm happy for found poetry, always, always. Check Out: The Found Poetry Review. Thanks Andrea Beltran at Poet Tree for sharing. The Found Poetry Review is awesome in its mission and the things it does: as it defines and shares Found Poetry and all interpretations of such.

A literary tattoo project? Yes! Skin= Collected tattoos that tell stories. (Thanks for sharing Kim Brown!) Yes, let's look for it: poetry is out there, everywhere: on our bodies, on trains, on the sidewalk. It makes our lives more fulfilling even when we don't realize.