For the past three years I've been in a very difficult place, a highly dysfunctional place that I've kept a secret from essentially everyone in my life until recently. It was very lonely there, and I had nearly resigned myself to it, but in the past few months I have clawed my way out. I am very happy now, and just returned from holiday in Paris. I stayed in an apartment that was slightly up the hill to the Sacre Coeur, my favorite place in Paris, and there were birds singing everywhere and abandoned cats and fake and real flowers potted in the courtyard. I woke early to revise poems from my manuscript and realized I have much, much more revising to do before my book is completed.
Things I acquired on my holiday:
1. an antique spoon: a tiny silver thing with a rose at the handle
2. postcards that I must hand deliver
3. foreign chocolates with fruit and flower petals inside
4. a love note
5. a pebble that was thrown through my window
6. a music box that churns this song.
7. a couple dozen polaroids
8. a calm heart
9. a system for revision of poems
10. a few extra pounds from excessive frite consumption
In other exciting news, I have been nominated for the 50 best new poets in the US, and I believe I will win and get in because the prospective cover of the anthology features a tree that bears eery resemblance to the tree I have up on my wall. I think that must be a good sign.
My former professor Martha has proven to be such a supportive and lovely figure in my life. She is constantly looking for ways to throw me work, or help my various endeavors. She has hired me to make cupcakes for the poetry salon in June, and sent over many fantastic recipe ideas she came up with. I attempted one such, a Sacher Torte cupcake, but the cake was unbearably dry and I made the apricot jam from scratch which was a big mistake. I like the idea of making things from scratch, mainly because it is so satisfying, like a magic trick, but I need much more trial runs before I can present these cupcakes to her. There are certain women around whom I feel like an orphan, which is strange because I have a very close knit and supportive family, but she is turning out to be one of them.
I completed the 30 poems in 30 days project this April, finished with 7 minutes to spare. I pushed myself a lot emotionally during the month, and finally started writing poems from an honest and vulnerable place, as opposed to writing from the point of view of fictional, detached characters with made up story lines. It seems to be the beginning of my second book, but now all I need to do is finish my first.
Today I went jogging with both of my sisters in Central Park. It took 3 hours, because we jogged extensively, explored peculiar things and got lost often. Afterwards I went to lunch with A, we ate at a very girly outdoor place on the UES and caught up with each other. Sometimes I forget how much I adore this girl, until I see her in person. She has a very calming effect on me.
Here is my fortune that I ripped out of a french newspaper (translated poorly I'm sure):
"Love: Your future is declining slightly in matters of the heart. You are, truly, too demanding in this area. Show more modesty.
Career: A tendency to indulge. Be careful not to rest too much on your laurels.
My god, french fortunes are depressingly astute.