I'm going to be 35 in 5 hours. It's terrifying. I hear the next horrific feeling one gets as aging becomes more and more prevalent is fear of death. Oh what fun. To top things off, it's spring and all the young girls at university seem to be lopping off their knee length skirts to expose sheer perfection of leg, innocence of untanned skin, facial expressions that do not leave lines after you use them. And I go to the gym, yoga class, meditate and eat all sorts of juice concoctions, salads, and granola and I can manage to wake up and look about 6 years younger, some days, 2. It will only get worse. So I must somehow begin the process of dealing with this aging thing. Accepting that men I date will naturally find younger models of myself attractive, damnit. And just stop writing about all this and get over myself.

In 5 hours.

More exciting school stuff

Doing so much, again. Forgive me all for not returning emails, finishing work, etc etc. Up to my eyeballs in end of term.

Apparently I wrote the best essay in my class last week. Working on another for same prof, the "Unspeakable Acts of Cruelty" Greek Drama course where we delve into concepts of civilization, its abject and violent nature in a cause and effect sort of way, and retreat to the sublime to wrap up. Writing essay on sublime now, and another long one (20pgs) due the middle of April. It will combine all three concepts. Yay! Seriously difficult class; seriously interesting. The sublime coincides with the Women of Trachis as translated by Ezra Pound when he was locked up. Yes, as insane as it sounds. Edmund Burke's "A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful" has its moments. Longinus' "On Sublimity" is more my style. Both yielding some excellent afterthoughts. Go read, kids.

Waiting for the day when I can sink my teeth into more than the average undergrad class. My need to be challenged is pouring into my sleep time with wild dreams, padding my metro rides with heavy reading instead of maybe resting for a minute? Try turning off my brain. Just try.

Missing poetry readings lately. No time. The life of a double major. Now, to pick "one" for grad school. Maybe I'll do two MA's. I'm not dead yet.

Going to this workshop this morning with Beat/Black Mountain-inspired American poet Joanne Kyger. Very excited.

Heard from Fred Wah the other day (met him at reading in town) that Louis Cabri (who is originally from Ottawa, who knew) is teaching a grad program (with Nicole Markotic) at U. of Windsor... and it may have an experimental-focus. Interesting.

The death of Mother

                breaking into the water; intruding
                in an element with no love
                so men are fooled and drowned.
                       Artie Gold, 1947-2007

She's changed her human appearance
several times

        (in these waters
        her apathy bumps against the clatter
        of a wine-dark sea)

and yet,
a conjurer of great skill,
         “illusionist”,
attributes her bad luck to
the men she slept with

Because she lied,
she was transformed:
        the rank of goddess
        sexual servant,
                    the space in-between

“I've driven veracity from rocks
crushed beneath the weight of
water

have tried to disclose
the suffocations
        of death,
it's heavy alter of the eye:
the true development of stasis.”

The sea responds in a gush of
curlicue.

You'd think she had
the backbone of Medea
upon the wailing rocks

         joyless hands around her
         sons

         near mountains
         out of their minds.

Get your paws on these

American poet Jessica Smith will be putting together edition 1.10 of her fantastic Foursquare Magazine which will feature a little ditty of mine. If you happen to be a subscriber, be sure to let me know what you think.

I'll also be appearing in the 2008 Anthology of Younger Poets to be released by Outside Voices either later this year, or the next.

Also waiting to hear from the Irving Layton Awards--see if they made a mistake and considered one of my submissions. Other than that, too busy writing essays to send anything out, and not getting the best feedback here in "the program" about my writing to even want to send it out. Must be the weekly assignments of rhyme and syllable count that's holding me back. Grr!!

I've been sick this week, very sick. I should be in bed but am writing an essay. It was due today. sigh.

age smage

So I'm turning older in about 3 weeks. One of those milestone ages that are supposed to make you panic. I'm trying to resist the panic. So I don't have kids yet, not yet married, but I am in school and loving it. Maybe the professor job and country home and husband are just around the corner (if around the corner is in 3-4 years). No matter. What needs to be adjusted is my view on aging. Be young. Seems simple enough.

I was emailed a few other tips, just in case the panic sets in:

HOW TO STAY YOUNG

1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them.

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening whatever. Never let the brain idle. "An idle mind is the devil's workshop." And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9 Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away!

This guy is coming to Montreal. FINALLY, the Russians are coming. I've been waiting oh so long.

Looked through Concordia's 2008-9 programs for fall and winter terms. I want to take everything.

Got a new haircut. It's alright.