This afternoon I took Lumina out in an effort to match my body to my brain. My brain is currently a tar like substance – thick and sticky. Which was kind of like my riding style by the end of the jaunt. I also picked up the fuzz at every single damn intersection it seems. Nothing worse than wanting to go and pulling up next to a bored cop who looks right at you. You just have to unclip and wait. I was moderately successful at tuckering myself out due to a sprinting ride, and my body is as physically tired as my brain is (sometimes I get brain tired, due to lack of sleep, but not body tired – and hence can’t sleep).
My face is also now fuzzy. I got a few private suggestions on the facial hair puzzle. I haven't made any decision yet though. I don't think I'm going to reprise my pirate beard though.
I think I’ve hit some kind of wall and feel completely exhausted – emotionally, intellectually, artistically, spiritually. Not to worry or anything, but I’m just tapped out right now, which would explain my lack of blogging and correspondence.
Things stuck on the fuzzy brain:
Law school – both working on the day to day stuff and thinking out critiques of both LS in general and our section. The small critiquing group, of which I’m on the fringe, has had its first meeting, which generated some interest. Basically the idea is to take advantage of the radical (heh) curriculum and push it further along the road. Say like, perhaps having it avail itself of general 20th century educational/learning theory which seems to impact just about every higher academic institution except for law schools. More on this soon.
As usual I’m kind of on the back burner on this one, which is fine. There’s also the question of how radical I should get. (Well, not me but the ideas that I should advance.) For my part, I’ll probably end up doing an in-depth critique of LRW – I wish I could say this would be empowering. It’s just going to be a fucking chore. But necessary, I think, as part of the larger project, as well as something I’m well suited for.
Personal/Spiritual – things are fine, but I’ve had a kind of draining self-examination recently; I had to attempt to articulate a bunch of stuff I hadn’t really planned on articulating. I think that was very good to do, but there’s something that happens when you try to concretize feelings and subjective impressions in words. This might sound silly, coming from a poet, but it took me a long time to not *think* my emotions, to not let them be constrained or strongly colored by words and grammar. That sometimes makes me a bit inarticulate on matters of complex human business, but it also lends a richness to things. So I feel I slid back somewhat – that in this case by naming something you diminish/constrain it. Or inherently mis-label it, since so many feelings don’t fit into the few words we have for them.
There’s also in a different matter pointless drama involving childishness; I can’t say it’s all that strong on the radar screen, but it’s there. I keep assuming people are adults with a broad kind of experience in the world - I can't keep doing that, it's always bad; there are a lot of people who completely structure themselves in the sense that they willfully embrace one conception of "how things are" and shut out all other views on matters.
So, overall, I’m feeling connected with people on many levels but also sort of completely alienated as well. Don’t know what I was expecting – this is how it usually is.
Also, I think I’m now more or less completely outed to the class re: my past and poetry and so forth. Which makes me feel, I dunno, kind of drained, I guess. Like instead of the mystique of not knowing, I’ll just now have to deal with correcting odd impressions. The whole poet thing is particularly bad for generating those.
Artistic - over the weekend I did a kind of masochistic manuscript review (now done) in which I dragged out much of my old work and ran it through the process. This is always, on some level, deeply depressing but necessary. You see how often you missed, where the gaps are between poems, what you’d like to have done differently. There’s no going back though. I’m fine with the final ms (an updated amalgam of two earlier mss), and appreciated the kick in the ass which got me going on this process. My room looked like a snowstorm hit it. I had to get 250 poems down to 80 or so. Now they have to shrink a hair further. No essays in this one either.
I’ve also been reading a lot of poetry per an editorial gig. Not much to say about that yet, except that I’m deferring to the commonsense aesthetics of my fellow editors. I feel superfluous at this stage of things.
Actually, I think that describes my overall mood perfectly – I’m superfluous. Hmm. Betcha I feel differently after the nap and shower.