Irene Latham's Blog, page 63

How the Dead Live On, Let Me Count the Ways

The 8-1-1 section of my studio
features several "Papa" mementos:
"Go Away I'm Reading"
is one of them!Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Kiesha at Whispers from the Ridge for Roundup.

Today marks the two year anniversary of my father's death. One of the biggest surprises in my life is how my relationship with my father continues to evolve. So many things continue to make me feel close to him, and I love the ways he continues to "live."

Whether it is a friend telling me about her visit to Corinne Costin Gibson Memorial Public Library (Port St. Joe, FL) where she sat in my dad's rocker...

read more about
this special rocker here... Or seeing my father's words in print as I did when Birmingham Arts Journal ran my father's story about his hometown of Port St. Joe, FL (a paper-mill town) titled "A Smell of Sulfur" (You can read it here, p. 12.)... these things help me feel connected to him.

Then there are things that slay me utterly and unexpectedly, like an email I received from an acquaintance of mine/friend of my father's:

"I must also share with you a special story about your Dad, which occurred after his death. C, my husband, was in the St. A’s emergency room, close to dying, and in and out of consciousness, when he suddenly said he was visiting with Ken Dykes. He could see him as well.  He was very comforted by that experience - as was I. 

Your Dad was a comfort to so many, at the Cancer Center and at St. Georges, and we treasured our friendship with him. I wanted you to know that he brought comfort to C, even after death. C himself died a few weeks after that emergency room stay."

Thinking of my father somewhere waiting for me -- and comforting others along the way -- just destroys me and uplifts me. I have found so much comfort in that.

I also received a letter I want to share here about my father's stories, which he wrote diligently, in the last years of his life. One of our last conversations was about how to structure the book we were going to create -- not surprisingly, his ideas for organization were different than mine-- and we'd hoped to get the book out for Christmas 2016. He died before that could happen. So I have been sharing his stories whenever I think of it. Here is one response:


Any writer would love reading these words: "Every story that he has written comes to life." That's the goal, isn't it?

And now I'd like to share a poem I discovered in HOME: Where Everyone is Welcome: Poems & Songs Inspired by American Immigrants by Deepak Chopra, Kabir Sehgal, Paul Avgerinos. I learned about this book on a Poetry Friday Roundup earlier this year (though I can't remember who posted about it... maybe Diane?) To whomever: THANK YOU!

Here is the poem:

Father
Inspired by Krishan Chopra

If awareness is existence
You have existed in me
From when I first became aware
And now
If awareness is life
Then you have been my life
Since I incarnated into experience
And now
From the stories you told
To the magnificent hero you were
I am
Because you were
And are
We exist in the awareness
Where I is thou
Thou is me
In every 
Everlasting
Now
--------------
Thanks so much for reading!

#lakelife Spiritual Journey Thursday June edition

front porch chalkboard messageHello and Happy Spiritual Journey Thursday! Be sure to visit Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for Roundup. Our topic today is "summer."

I actually posted earlier this week about some things I've been struggling with -- always obstacles on the Journey -- so today I wanted to share a few of the ways I'm enjoying summer so far.

As some of you may recall, our baby boy graduated high school last month and departed the day after for his summer camp counselor job. So we are adjusting to the empty nest! (We did see him last night, so yay for that!) AND there's been all sorts of other things going on in our lives, what with birthdays and sale of our house and me working on a new book... but really, all of that fades during these juicy-sweet June days.

Top 3 Ways I'm Spending My Time this June:


1. Swimming, with dog Ruby looking on... she hasn't been brave enough yet to jump in. Maybe today?




2. Reading/Writing/Dreaming on the dock. One great thing about not-great internet: more poems swim their way to me!




3. Lake-watching. This never gets old. Whatever the weather, whatever time of day... I am 24-7 inspired.

Looking forward to reading about everyone else's thoughts on summer!

Finding the Answer to my Writing Problem

This post is going to be a little bit backwards: Instead of first telling you what my writing problem is, I am going to start with the answer -- and not surprisingly (at least for this book loving gal), the answer has come in the form of a book: THE BOOK OF JOY: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World by His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Bishop Desmond Tutu with Douglas Abrams. I read it a few months ago on my Kindle. Here are some quotes that spoke to me:

Impermanence, the Dalai Lama reminds us, is the nature of life. All things are slipping away, and there is a real danger of wasting our precious human life. Gratitude helps us catalog, celebrate, and rejoice in each day and each moment before they slip through the vanishing hourglass of experience.
------------
As part of ARTSPEAK! Portraits, I wrote a poem titled Gratitude.

------------
Gratitude, as we have seen, is an important part of joy because it allows us to savor life and to recognize that most of our good fortune in life comes from others.
------------
The book offers this as a "Joy Practice:"

Gratitude: Think of three or more people or things that you are grateful for in this problem of your life right now. Can you find ways in which your problem is actually contributing to your life and growth? Are there people or things that are supporting you to face this challenge?
-----


storm rolling in
(while we were boating)The problem I am having right now is this: I am feeling a little lost and not-quite-there-yet with a work-in-progress --- and it's due July 1. There's no time to wander. It's got to be done NOW. I feel under pressure, probably mostly from myself: I want this to be the best book ever!

So when I apply this practice to my problem, here's what I've got:

3 people/things I am grateful for:
1. my editor and agent -- for having the opportunity to write this book at all.
2. my writing partner -- I am not alone!
3. the subject matter of the book is really making me think about what's important to me. I mean, it brought me back to the BOOK OF JOY, right? :)

almost homeYes, I am growing through this process. I am writing things I'd never have written before. Yes, it's hard. But I've got support from so many corner of my life -- and blessedly, this slow-down season and this beautiful (lake) environment to cushion me as I do the work.

I'm going to keep at it -- with joy! Because yes, this moment, our lives, are impermanent. And yes, I'm grateful. xo

Birds Art Life Poetry

Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Buffy's Blog for Roundup.

Last month dear friend Jeannine gave me a copy of BIRDS ART LIFE: A Year of Observation by Kyo Maclear (who happens to also create books for children)-- because the book helped her get through a long winter.
Appropriate, right, for 2018, Year of the Bird?
And super fitting for me, as our lives have been greatly enhanced by a new bird feeding station outside our bedroom window. Oh my, the birds we've met! House finch and goldfinch and cardinal and tufted titmouse and bald eagles (not at the feeder, but nearby!) and and and... so many birds! So I thought I would share with you a few of the passages from the book that really spoke to me:

<!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br />--> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F4FJzdtyms..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F4FJzdtyms..." width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our bird feeding station</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"Part of being open, I decided, meant cultivating a better kind of attention. I wanted to achieve the benevolent and capacious attention that the be-scarfed artist and the bird-loving musician showed the world."</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"My usual (nonmaternal) attention had three strains. There was the dogged attention I gave my art, the boxed-in attention I gave to my devices and screens, and the durational attention I (sometimes) gave to challenging books/art/films. All these seemingly dissimilar forms of attention had something in common: they were on their way someplace. They sought a reward, a product purchase, a narrative connection."</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"Poetry captures the elusive nature of birds, but it is science that allows us to see them with precision and grace. The best books captured the sweet spot between poetic not-knowing and scientific knowing."</i></div><br /><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> </div>--> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HKMSeURerK..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HKMSeURerK..." width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our bird identification book</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"A spark bird could be as bold as an eagle, as colorful as a warbler, or as ordinary as a sparrow, as long as it triggered the “awakening” that turned someone into a serious birder. Most birding memoirs begin with a spark bird."</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> </div>--> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"Our courage comes out in different ways. We are brave in our willingness to carry on even as our pounding hearts say, “You will fail and land on your face.” Brave in our terrific tolerance for making a hundred mistakes. Day after day. We are brave in our persistence."</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"Now when I hear birdsong, I feel an entry to that understory. When I am feeling too squeezed on the ground, exhausted by everything in my care, I look for a little sky. There are always birds flying back and forth, city birds flitting around our human edges, singing their songs."</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> </div>--> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"If the wind is going the right way, some birds like to spread their wings and hang in the air, appearing not to move a bit. It is a subtle skill, to remain appreciably steady amid the forces of drift and gravity, to be neither rising nor falling."</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> </div>--> <div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>"The birders I encountered in books and in the world shared little except this simple secret: if you listen to birds, every day will have a song in it."</i></div>-----<br />I do hope you will give this book a read! And of course it brings to mind "bird" poems. Who among us does NOT have a bird poem? Here's one of mine, inspired by grief and loss:<br /><br /><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br />--> <div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; page-break-before: always; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Life Without Birds</b></span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You appear just before dawn</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">to ask what it’s like</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">without you. I push through</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">the quicksand, gauging</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">the weight of forest</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">as it presses against my body,</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">a whole country of spruce,</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">pine, and cedar surrounding me.</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I don’t want to burden you</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">with what you’ve done,</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">so I say I miss the birds<i>.</i></span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Is there any deeper truth?</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">No wings flashing from </span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">blackberry brambles, </span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">no careful nest in the eaves, </span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">no graceful, raucous <span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">V</span>s. </span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The loss of song</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">is the part I won’t admit, </span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><br /></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">no matter how tenderly</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0.14in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">you press your fingers</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">against my eyelids.</span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;"><span style="color: #00000a;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>- Irene Latham</i></span></span></span></div><br />-----------------<br />and two more from ARTSPEAK!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fa5gBGoibP..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="952" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fa5gBGoibP..." width="316" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kl2XhyAVL4..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1031" data-original-width="1600" height="257" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kl2XhyAVL4..." width="400" /></a></div>Thanks so much for reading! My goal today is to write a new bird poem.... actually the goal was to post it here, but lots going on with son's college orientation, the closing for the sale of our house, and sweet husband's birthday... so I'll have to sneak in some writing time later this afternoon. <i>Wheeee!</i>

Learning the Art of Cherokee Leaf Pounding

example for us newbiesThis past weekend it was my great pleasure to attend a workshop put on by Alabama Folklife Association with instructor Rosa Hall and her daughter Monica to teach the art of Cherokee leaf pounding.

No, we are not sure the Cherokee actually used this method. But one of our National Heritage Fellow quilters from Alabama Bettye Kimbrell did. Her work was so gorgeous!

selecting our leaves So a group of us met at Ruffner Mountain Nature Preserve to practice transfering leaves to fabric. It requires a hammer or hammerstone, some earplugs, a piece of wood, some newspaper, paper towel, masking tape, leaves... and imagination!

perfect-sized hammerstone!I discovered pretty quickly that I like using a stone better than a hammer (I like the way it fits in my hand), and I like pounding it in my lap (like Bettye did!) rather than on a table. This requires some padding under the board to protect my legs, obviously! Thankfully my tablemates were far better prepared than I, and I was able to borrow some muslin.

my practice pieceI wasn't expecting to enjoy the process so much, but something about the repetitive movement and the physicality of pounding those leaves was relaxing and meditative to me. I loved my results and can't wait to try some on my own! I really want to try transferring some designs to men's handkerchiefs -- because my father always carried a handkerchief, and aren't they the perfect size? I *might* even quilt them. We'll see!

Remembering Richard Peck

This Memorial Day I want to say thank you to all the men and women who have died serving our country. We remember you with love and gratitude! And I also want to say a few words about one of my literary heroes Richard Peck, who died last week. Click here to read his obituary.

As a long-time lover of middle grade fiction, Richard Peck has been one of those luminaries for me. So imagine my delight when he blurbed my first novel LEAVING GEE'S BEND! Eep! Here's what emblazoned the cover of the 2010 first hardcover edition (G.P. Putnam's Sons/Penguin):

"Ludelphia Bennett reaffirms the human spirit and defines survival in this beautifully stitched quilt of a novel."

I mean, really, it doesn't get any better than that! And yet... it DOES! In April of that same year, I got to meet Richard Peck. I thanked him for blurbing my book, and he gave me a big hug... and signed my book, too.


Richard said some pretty brilliant things that day. I catalogued them in a blog post "Ode to Richard Peck." I hope you will join me in remembering Richard today. What a beautiful, generous spirit. This Memorial Day and all days, I'd like to be more like him.

Fairy Poem

fairy door -- it actually opens,
which I love!Hello and Happy Poetry Friday! Be sure to visit Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for Roundup.

It's official: the boy has graduated and headed off to camp. The nest is feeling sad and empty today. :(

Good thing we recently installed a fairy door in our front yard... we need some wee visitors full of mischief and good cheer!

Here is a poem to welcome them.


Come, Fairies
Share with me your twinkletoe wayof tickling the daisies,
teach me yourrabbit enchantments.
I want to know howto buzz bumblespeak,
how to sail like a swallowtail,all gentle swoops and loop-de-loops.
The tall grass swayswith your mischief,
the mushroomsbloom with your magic.
Come fairies,it's a poet knocking.
I bring word-bouquetsand baskets of freshbaked metaphor.
Won't you please
open your door?
- Irene Latham
... and here is a pic of the boy. We're so proud!
Class of 2018!

Because Everyone Should Learn How to Make Pine Needle Baskets

bundle of clean pine needles 
My new lake community has a lovely group of women called the Lady Lakers who meet once a month for fellowship and also to coordinate good works for the community -- like yard sales and concerts and 5k runs and donations to the local school and so much more!

This past weekend we all gathered to learn how to weave pine needle baskets.

Lady Lakers!Friends, as with many primitive arts, this is so much harder than it looks! We started with walnut pieces for the center... and clumps of cleaned and boiled longleaf pine needles. (You have to prep the pine needles first by using fingernails or scissors to remove the bark-y cap on the end.) We used needles and waxed thread to start wrapping the straw around the walnut. We did our best to follow instructor Jane's every tip and direction. (Jane learned at John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina... totally on my bucket list to spend a week up there!)

Some of us (me!) put in way more stitches than necessary attaching the first layer of pine needles to the walnut, and that kind of threw off the stitching design. Some of us (me!) realized pretty quickly that pine needle basketry was not our "thing." (Maybe it's my left-handedness? It just felt too... something. Probably I'll like it better the next time I try. :)

the bottom of a basket
(that will never be completed)
But others of us (Grace!) took to it like fishermen takes to the water at 5 am on our lake... here's Grace's finished basket. Isn't it gorgeous?!


Jane's basketsAs for me, I bought a finished basket from Jane instead. :)

I'll be donating it back to the Lady Lakers' silent auction in the fall. Now that we all know how labor-intensive it is to make the darn things, I know everyone will want one -- not only will it be a beautiful place for cookies or crackers or other sweet treats, but what a fabulous conversation piece!

Thank you, Lady Lakers... and Jane!

Next up: Cherokee leaf pounding with Alabama Folklife Association!

Hello, Butler County, Alabama!

Last week it was my pleasure to visit with gifted students in Butler County, Alabama. Thanks to the enthusiasm and dedication of teacher Lori Brown, they'd all read LEAVING GEE'S BEND -- which is appropriate, as Butler County is right next door to Wilcox County (where Gee's Bend is located).

We had a lovely time talking books and writing, and it was fun to sign books for these eager young readers and writers. Thank you, Lori, and Butler County for supporting school visits and for inviting me to share my work with your students!

the whole gang!
Lori Brown and Irene Latham
(with gift-copy of SCHOOL PEOPLE)
showing a Gee's Bend style quilt I made
attentive kids who later asked brilliant questions! In other news, I will be traveling to Gee's Bend in July as part of Alabama Folklife Association quilting programming (you can register, too!) ... and I just might bring home a quilt! Yes, Mary Ann Pettway is making one for me, and maybe it will be ready... Fingers crossed!

A Perfect Day at Poet's House

Slowly, slowly I am catching up here at Live Your Poem. Today I want to share about our event at Poet's House, which happened April 21 in Manhattan.

This event was set up by Charles Waters, who is a regular at Poet's House -- and of course everyone there loves him!

It's a beautiful building near Battery Park with all sorts of poetry memorabilia... and of course the 70,000 volume collection of poetry books. :)

We presented on CAN I TOUCH YOUR HAIR?, and the amazing staff put together a "hair" craft, much like Sean and Selina's craft for PEN World Voice, though there was no prior discussion about it, so it was just a happy coincidence. The kids really seemed to enjoy it! We loved taking
craft station!pics of the kids with their happy creations (see below). We also read poems from the book and answered a few questions from the audience. It was fun to give shout-outs to  our editor Carol Hinz and one of the illustrators Selina Alko, who were in the audience.

Also in the audience were three of my guys, though two of them were sick! You can probably tell which ones from the picture. :)


Paul (sick), Andrew (not sick), Eric (sick)
And here's the reason for the book and why do these things:







Aren't they wonderful?!

"Back off, I'm a poet."Finally, here's a pic of me with a poetry tote gifted me by dear friend Robyn Hood Black. Kind of the perfect accessory in New York City during National Poetry Month, yes? :)

So many thanks to all involved! And readers, next time you are in New York City, be sure to visit Poet's House. It's all kinds of inspiring. I know you're going to love it!