I am writing a stupid poem about something I heard in Manhattan, while my friend's children are evacuated from a Jewish Community Center because of a phoned-in bomb threat.



From Ongoingness: The End of a Diary by Sarah Manguso:

Another friend wrote, “Marriage isn’t like having a boyfriend or girlfriend but a little more so any more than gold is helium but a little more so. The inner shell of electrons fills and then the next one goes into the next shell, changing everything.” 
Marriage isn’t a fixed experience. It’s a continuous one. It changes form but is still always there, a rivulet under a frozen stream. Now, when I feel a break in the continuity of till death do us part, I think to myself, Get back in the river.


Simply the Breast

Boobs are the new boobs.



The book I most enjoyed reading last year was Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. She tells how she made a vow to writing. The vow was not that writing would have to provide for her, but a promise to spend her life doing it, to always stay close to it. Some of Gilbert's thoughts are written here.

So, thinking about the dedication of artists to the work. "Steal a camera if you have to, but stop whining and get back to work.” Last month I read Just Kids. The focus on the work is there in the lives of Smith and Mapplethorpe. Even watching the Super Bowl halftime show I was thinking about this, about Lady Gaga, theatrics aside, working her ass off (1) to get to that moment and (2) in that moment itself.

Today's professional research into Pinterest led me to click on a pin that took me to "Upper Moose Lake", from Am I Alone Here? by Peter Orner:
Lily accepts the fact that her mediocre paintings are going to end up either rolled up under someone’s bed or in an attic somewhere or, more likely, thrown out with the trash. Even so, she’ll paint. She’ll paint. What choice has she got but to paint? The only way to honor her visions of Mrs. Ramsay and those lost days is to try to get them down. Come what may. The failure to capture the vision is the vision.
This gets filed in my brain alongside the new mantra: "Nevertheless, she persisted."