Writing Long-hand on Yellow Legal Pads

I'm listening to one of my favorite CDs - Rachel's Music for Egon Schiele. A meaningful, emotionally soothing soundtrack to my poetic rovings tonight. If you haven't heard it, you might want to take a listen online somewhere. Such modern classical works are perfect for my sense of balance I need when I write.

Having been getting some prose written, I have been doing it longhand & enjoying the product better than when I scribe on this net book, which it's keyboard is too small for these chubby fingers & cause me to error more than I used to. I guess, when writing with a pen, a pencil, one literally feels the words forming, becoming what they'll be interrupted by others. One is engaged during their birth, a father-mother-midwife conglomeration making the sentences stand deeper than when excluded from touch.

Does that make sense? More like sculpture or painting. I regain the artistic element to writing.

My poems begin that way, impulsively written up on scraps of paper, making their length dependent on the size of the paper. Each is different, no regimental standard enforced, free to imbue with free words finding their ground as a part of meditation. But also, I see these poems as the floor mat to a meditation. One likes to not track in the abuses or distractions of the world into a house, thus I don't want to dirty my peaceful moments.

And with that, I let go.

(Art by Joel Robison)

13 Books for Scott Tammaro to Read

My recommendations for a good friend:

1. A Personal Matter by Kenzaburo Oe
2. Waiting for Nothing by Tom Kromer
3. Stop-Time by Frank Conroy
4. Black-Eyed Susans, edited by Mary Helen Washington
5. Nowhere Man by Alesksandar Hemon
6. Sometimes A Great Notion by Ken Kesey
7. Keep the Aspidistra Flying by George Orwell
8. Demian by Hermann Hesse
9. The Air-Conditioned Nightmare /The Time of the Assassins by Henry Miller
10. A Painter of Our Time by John Berger
11. The Voice at the back Door by Elizabeth Spencer
12. Evening Light by Stephan Hermlin
13. Hunger by Knut Hamsun