Came across the following recently: a hundred thousand poems ‘rained’ on London’s Jubilee Gardens from a helicopter earlier this summer. We could sure use some rain, here in LA. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/06/26/poetry-bombing-casagrande-london-rain-poems_n_1627951.html?utm_hp_ref=fb&ir=Books&src=sp&comm_ref=false
…. On craft and creativity: Formatting and Submitting your Manuscript, by Cynthia Laufenberg. Story Engineering by Larry Brooks. I have a shelf of craft books, but I could probably toss them all out and just commit this one to memory. Creativity, by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Especially the chapter on enhancing personal creativity.
Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life; they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over an
In those long and sleepless nights when I’m unable to shake my fears sufficiently, I borrow a biblical epigraph from Dostoyevsky’s The Demons: I see my fears being cast into the bodies of wild boars and hogs, and I watch them rush to a cliff where they fall to their deaths. (Thank you to my dear friend, Esther, who gave me this book long before I knew I needed it).
Last Poem I have dreamed so much of you, Walked so often, talked so often with you, Loved your shadow so much. Nothing is left me of you. Nothing is left of me but a shadow among shadows, A being a hundred times more shadowy than a shadow, A shadowy being who comes, and comes again, in your sunlit life.