Monday, September 22, 2008

Autumnal Equinox

Egret on Squaw Island

These first fall days are some of the best "summer" weather there is. The sky deepens its blue, the air gets nippy at night, and I love it all.

I woke up feeling groggy and crampy today, but I have to acknowledge that today was indeed a day of many blessings from the Goddess. And I honor Her.

Today I did some end of season gardening. I clipped age to make wands. I dug and tinctured yellow dock root. There's a few more peppers coming, and a little more broccoli. My second sowing of spinach is growing slowly, but it's healthy. I collected some elderberries the other day near Squaw Island, and saw that egret (heron) there.

I renewed my library card, and got a present from Smitty. I was supposed to teach 2 classes tonight, but only ended up having to teach one. I sometimes dread library instruction, because it lacks creativity and because one only meets once with a class, there's little opportunity to get to know the students. Still, tonight's class was good, and I got a rush from the connection I was able to make.

Wednesday night, I'll be hosting the Buffalo Pets in Conversation event, along with poet Douglas Manson.

With: Celia White, Michael Sikkema, Gary Earl Ross, Sherry Robbins,
Alex Mead, Douglas Manson, Jimmie Gilliam, Nava Fader, Michael
Basinski, Ansie Baird

Wednesday, September 24, 2008, 7pm.
Bon Vivant. 1862 Hertel Avenue

Doug Manson and I will foster a conversation which will explore the
following areas:

--making a living
--identity (in activity)
--favorite stories

Come if you can.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

On the Back on a Szechuan Eggplant Recipe from Vegetarian Times, 1994 or so

(it was not quite a poem, still is not)

I live in this city and never stop moving except to write things down. I live in tis city & it’s making my head hurt today or maybe it’s just the season. I feel stoned & anxious but I don’t miss anybody. I don’t. Separate conversations. I live in this city and the red leaves a good luck. The sirens don’t surprise me. I wanted my head to be cleaned by the wind. I want all change to be for the better. I live in this city & I feel less safe than usual, as if it were a sign of age. I live in this city and the kid at the next table is just learning what a street person is; she has never seen one before. Why doesn’t he get an apartment? Doesn’t he sometimes sleep in a store/indoors? It is time to go home. No one is (cut off) don’t say hello to the people I actually recognize. Having this choice = home.

Coin in the cup. Belly up

at the bar.

What time is it.

Conversation, Celia.