I do not do well in heat. I’ve managed to do some reading today, some writing. Some days that’s the best that you can hope for, but I’ve discovering that temperature extremes break my concentration completely. For the past two days, the only thing that has seemed to help me is water and sleep. This is why I’ve never been excited about bikram yoga (AKA hot yoga) because I am always on the verge of passing out in a bikram class.
I want to write about something sexier like designer bags or my favorite television show, but really, I’m thinking about starting another semester. I plan to turn in the syllabi tomorrow and finish reading some new poems from young sister poets. Today, I read Amy Gerstler’s book Dearest Creature. Since I read her book Bitter Angel and some of her other poems, I’ve been wanting to read Ghost Girl, Medicine, and Crown of Weeds. I’ve often sought out every book by a poet that I can find so I can so I can track their progressions or how they shift from one book to the next. I just appreciate when a poet exercises imagination, which Gerstler does well. I’ve always felt like a poem needs to tell a story and challenge some aspect of how we see poetry or the world, or both.
In the meantime, it seems incongruous with my desire to watch R&B videos or my wish that I had written lines from my favorite poems on the blacktop of our parking spot throughout the summer that is gone all too soon. In spite of my varied acts of pop confection and verse-inspired silly, I’m going to try to finish reading a few books every day and write every day. Some people think writers write every day, and they don’t. Really, there are fallow periods for some of us. I find myself thinking of writing at all these random moments. I even find myself dreaming about it. At other times, I find only music, books, and conversation as a stimuli for when the writing does come.
I used to write every day and do morning pages for a minimum of 30 minutes. I’d usually write in-class with my students, but I’ve found that they write for shorter time periods. Part of me wonders if there’s just so many distractions that make writing seem like a random act that is spurted onto the page without a need for revision. After all, stream of consciousness is genius, right? I’d say no, if the stream isn’t channeled.
So, if you want to share some of your favorite summer readings, I’d like to hear about them. I shared a few of mine on The Basin Blog earlier this summer. I’ll be sharing more with you soon.
