Upcoming Holiday

Passover is nearly here again. It is wonderful to be in my new house for the holiday! However, I do not plan to make a seder. Now that mom and dad are gone, there is no one to make one for, and it is so much work, when I must work nearly every day and struggle to prepare my class for the upcoming summer semester. I am glad that the choir will have a seder on the last day, and I will go to that.

Reading Season

Yesterday I got the contributor's copies of the anthology, Flashlight Memories, in which my little piece is published. They recommend that we sally forth and do readings at local places, but it seems odd and presumptuous when I am only one of many people in this collection. I wrote to the publisher and asked whether there was anyone else close by who is in this collection. Perhaps we can meet somewhere and read together? I think that would be interesting and would attract far more attention! However, perhaps some local book stores or colleges would let me read my poems if I only have a book to sell, even if it doesn't contain my poems? The only way to know is to ask.
Also, I have signed up for the faculty lecture series at the college. I asked if it were okay that I read my poems instead of giving a lecture. I appended some poems so they can make an informed decision. I hope they say yes.

The House, At Last

Liz came over and took some pictures of the house, now that we have everything set up. The neighbor showed us how to get them off of her camera, and now I can post them!
Enjoy!

Awards Ceremony

I went to the awards ceremony at school for the English club writing awards. I was one of the judges. The other two couldn't find a time to meet with me, so we did it by email, and the truth is, they let me choose the poems. It wasn't hard to do. Actually, I agreed almost completely with one of the judges and not at all with the other, but she wasn't very invested in which poems got chosen, and none of them came except me. The fiction was very very good, but the poems were far weaker as a group. They have had good teaching in fiction workshops, evidently. Perhaps not so much in poetry workshops, where they have had no consistency since Michelle left. One of the winners said she would like to be in my class, so I told her to ask the chairs if I can teach it come next spring. That would be nice, wouldn't it?

Am I Sleeping?

Last night was one of those nights when I woke up at 3 AM, as usual, leaned over to feed the cats, and didn't go back to sleep. Those have been much rarer in the new place than in the old one. But I laid there for hours with my eyes closed, and even had vivid dreams. Was I sleeping? Part of my brain said no. I don't really know.

Silent Sky

Today I went to South Coast Rep theater and saw a new play. I think it was a world premiere. It's called Silent Sky, and I am so glad I went to see it today, despite not being able to find my ticket. I have an educator's subscription, so I called up and asked if I could get a replacement ticket for free, and I did!
The play was a period piece about an astronomer named Henrietta Leavitt who lived early in the 20th century, about when Einstein was making his first arguments about relativity.
She was educated at Radcliffe, but couldn't get to use the telescope at Harvard or receive a faculty position anywhere because of her gender. But she was brilliant and determined, and too young to give up, so she managed to discover a method of locating stars in space by the frequency of their light, and it was through her discovery that astronomers learned there were other galaxies beyond our own.
She got very ill, and I think probably died early, but at the last, she got some recognition for her work, according to the play anyhow. I want to learn more about her because the play is about anyone who aspires to do something beyond the everyday, and how "real life" and this work often seem impossible to fit together, particularly for women.

Shadow's Say

Here is that poem I have been working on from the pov of the cat. I'd appreciate comments.

Night Patrol

What is that shining
beyond the branches
here and nowhere
everywhere at once
silver as a saucer
filling all the windows
with ribbons of cold light?

A spectral creature
my shadow self
conjured out of bluish
light lifts her paw as I
lift mine in warning
or salute. Her eyes
burn golden in the glass.
Her fur feels cold
raises no spark of scent.

Surely this room
this creature in the glass
the shocked books
on their shelves
exist only at night
and then only
halfway between
inside and out
in the wild light
of the swollen sphere;
gilded by morning
this room is somewhere else.

I sheathe my claws
in the powdery shroud
shed by the pane
shred it to fine floss
sit like a sphinx
in the very center
of my domain.
Something stirs
beneath the stove.