Vote for Edgar. Restaurant worker by day, Presidential Candidate by night...also moonlights as a jazz musician.

Making the Mind an Alley?

Sean came for a visit, bringing handmade puzzle and holy book. Much fun was had by all.

Most of Tuesday we spent seeing art: the Masterworks show at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, plus my usual faves: the Rothko, the Pollock ("Convergence"), the Anselm Kiefer I fully adore ("Die Milchstrasse/The Milky Way") and then in the first proper thunderstorm of summer visited Michael Morgulis in his studio at the Tri-Main Building, a huge factory on Main Street which still houses factories as well as studios, non-profits, and art spaces.

At Hallwalls, a fun show: The B-List: Brooklyn, Angst, and Desire. My absolute favorite are Beth Campell's poetic diagrams, "Potential Future Based on Present Circumstances" (an example of which can be seen here; last image on the page.)

A great late night at the bar. "Your friends are great," Sean said, somewhere around 3:30 AM. Yeah, he got a backrub, free dream interpretation and the company of some of the best people in town. I love my town.


From Michael Morgulis' Buffalo Series.

Summer Writing List--join up! Here's the first prompt and my response....

What is summer to you?

My sexy friend. Kissing me
when no one's looking, when everyone's looking.
The cool dapple of rain, of leaf shade,
and hot breath keeping me awake all night.

A bliss of oblivion, a little sizzle.

"There is no intellectual solution to the problem of suffering and pain."
--Questioning

A much needed reference

The Index of Godesses, arranged by category.

I Miss Me, Too.

“I’m not a government, I’m a religion.”
“That makes me not a citizen, but a devotee.”
--a conversation between lovers, some years ago

It’s me! Goddess, poet, librarian,
heavy tipper, prolific emailer,
patter of dogs and children,
hair smoother, phone call returner
although I hate the phone,
groovy music digger, soul woman,
avid researcher, ferocious reader,
damn fine dinner maker, purveyor of vivid language,
believer in progress,
second-hand shop shopper, recycler,
loyal friend, truth teller,
sipper of rain from the roses.

And that’s me, too, way over there,
grumpy girl, speeder through the city
even when it’s raining, sneaker listener spy,
late-stayer at the darts game, phone call screener,
self-righteous opinionated pacifistic political hothead,
devotee of AM soul radio, resources waster,
smarty-pants, contemptuous of the uncaring, avoider of cats,
salt shaker stealer, and then some.

I am Celia, rocker of worlds!
I am Celia, fierce and tender, oh so serious & still such a goof.
I am Celia, scribbler of poems,
humble on the path of this vow,
the path I make wherever it is I walk,
in this passage of pain and wonder.


Photo: Jill Corral

More from my heroine, Patti Smith.

She did indeed play The Sphere for 3 hours and 3 minutes last Saturday night. I was belly-to-the-stage for all of it, grabbing her ankle when she went by (because she wrote about doing that to Brian Jones when she saw the Rolling Stones) and giving my love & adoration to Lenny Kaye (yes, I heard those riffs from "Poppies" in "Not Fade Away") and enjoying the occasional spray of spit or water from the golden throat of the poet. No, I'm not kidding.

It was ecstasy.

Since last week, I have been dancing wildly, often, and have been happier than in months and have felt free, felt proud, felt accomplishment, felt loneliness & grief, sadness & longing but I know my life is my own & I do love it. I'm very lucky. I love my town, the town Patti said to cherish. She understood the energy, immediately.

And Lenny gave me his golden guitar pick. Thank you, Lenny. I also got a splintered drumstick, which I'll use to continue to draw power to my town, with which we can change the world for the better.