July 1, 2013
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A History of Weather
There is something about academic work that makes me positively ache for creative escapes. It isn’t that I don’t find my thesis creative in its own way – it is, and I am invested in making it not just good, or smart, but also beautiful. But it is not the same – too stuffed into headings and subheadings and packaged in a different vocabulary, concerned with a different kind of precision.
Anyway – this afternoon, on the downswing of a particularly volatile encounter with my own, crazy panic, I read “A History of Weather” by Billy Collins. It is online at Poetry Magazine. (I would post it here but that might be illegal. Is there a rule about reproducing these things? This is probably something I should know.) I am forever searching the world for things that match my inner landscape. Something about reading poems, in these moments, feels right, feels like a good answer to so many internal hills and valleys. Whatever sound is echoing from either place really ought to be something beautiful.
Anyway, I think you should read it. It is very, very good.
h.
Comments (1)
Yes. This is very, very good. I find myself endlessly documenting the weather and the colors and shapes it brings. I always thought I was a bit of a nutter for doing so, but perhaps I’m not alone in that.
Dear, lovely you. I have so appreciated the bits of beauty you’ve brought into my life over these few years on xanga. There is something about you that is so whole somehow, over and again you remind me to be genuine and to open my eyes to the beauty that is all around.