In the “real world,” that is, the world that is not in Europe and therefore contains my PEOPLE and my THINGS (distractions) I do not blog because I am busy/distracted/don’t believe there are things worth updating the world about. Which is a bummer because, of course, it is not true and in reality my life since Denmark has been very full of fun and things-worth-mentioning.
However, as I don’t really see the point in backtracking to June and filling all “you” (the perceived and invisible audience) on every little thing, I’ll start again from this very second. 11:00 on a Friday night in Missoula, MT while I lay on my stomach on my way too soft bed and listen to The Grateful Dead.
My new goals:
Post art and writing for all youse to enjoy.
Talk about fun adventures I have out in wild Montana.
(including, but not limited to, hikes/biking/trips/concerts/shows/movies/books)
Show off cool stuff the bookstore I work at is doing.
And anything else.
This has been the first semester I’ve had with my actual major being the focal point. Two workshops – fiction and poetry. As we near the end of the semester (JUST A FEW MORE WEEKS) we are compiling what we’ve written in both classes in order to submit portfolios. And, as if they want to be shared on this blog, clippings have been spilling out of every folder, notebook and journal.
Some better than others, for sure. This bitter tasting poem revealed itself to me today on a journal pages dated months ago.
[book boiled rum]
the book boiled rum out its creases
steaming hot over, wild enough
to burn any page turned a hot little leaf
may tumble out
Don’t hold your breath;