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“None of us can ever know the value of our lives or how our separate and silent scribbling may add to the amenity of the world if only by how radically it changes us one and by one.” ~Mary Karr
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 Just a quick note on this Thanksgiving morning note a few things I am thankful for...
 Every fall since we have lived in our present home, it has been my immense joy when the two surprise maples in our back yard go orange. From year to year the shade may very slightly but they never cease to delight me. Recently both of these trees were cut back and therefore are not as full as usual. But one morning this week, I opened the door to let the dogs out into the yard and there they were in their flaming glory.
They always envelope me in a state of tranquility that I look for each year. I think it must be that Capricorn pretext for consistency. When I look at them I want to go read something astounding or write something superbly done. It's like a grounding of my creativity or bringing everything into balance. So nearly a week has passed since we Americans went to the polls to elect a president. Someone is always disappointing after all the votes are counted. I've trudged off to the polls to vote for president 12 times over my life and I had my share of both elated and disappointed outcomes. This election has been the absolute hardest one for me to process and I know I am not alone.
Misc Thoughts & Actions Lots of ideas floating around this past week leading me to some rough language on pages...
Like "portrait of a closing pitcher" or messing around with Saturn. Balance, counter balance, shifting stars, dominoes, and a detachment from the ebb and flow. A draft of "The Father of All Things" actually materialized today. Some thoughts about AWP17 running through my mind. Missing this year I'd really like to get there for next 2017. This week I have to start looking into hotel coast and flights. New Poets & Writers magazine to read this week. Silas is demanding his late feeding so I guess I am through here tonight. I feel that a very optimistic fall has pushed summer aside. I can see the fall colors coming. Anticipation is high.
Fall ball has pushed aside the regular season as well. We are now into the playoffs and with that comes the elimination of some teams that fall away like those fragile bright leaves. Things too get a little crazy and spooky and sticky sweet. Do grown ups still plunder the kids trick-or-treat bag for the good stuff? What I'm not looking forward to is the mania that often comes with the holidays. Perhaps this year my holiday gift will be material for better poems. I hope my muse is reading this. Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality. – James Joyce
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AuthorMichael Allyn Wells - notes & musings Archives
November 2024
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(c) Michael Allyn Wells - 2017