Month: January 2023

Over the last months there have been a few fun poetry developments. For example, my daughter was walking through downtown Urbana with her boyfriend and his father and they stumbled upon my poem near the parking garage. She seemed pretty proud. I don’t know yet, but this may be the pinnacle of my success! Time will tell.

In all seriousness, I did take part in a great reading about Illinois Rivers hosted by our Poet Laureate emeritus, Will Reger, at the Channing Murray Foundation a few weeks ago. We had such a great turnout! The readers included the wonderfully talented Janelle Davenport-Pleasure who is our current Poet Laureate here in Urbana. She’s amazing! You can read more about her here.

Also, the Glass Room Poets got some love from our local magazine, Smile Politely. You can read the article here.

And finally, I was long-listed for Palette Poetry’s 2022 Chapbook competition for my manuscript Twenty-One Farewells. One day it’s going to get published! I just hope I live to see it.

A couple months ago a good friend and fellow poet asked me if I would do a reading in his home with another writer friend of his named John Griswold. John is, among other things, a staff writer at the Common Reader: A Journal of the Essay, at Washington University in St. Louis. He has just published a book entitled The Age of Clear Profit which he read from on the night of our reading. (A very interesting read, by the way!)

I was excited and flattered and feeling just a little but out of my league by the invitation (alas, my side of the book table was empty…) but despite my nervousness, I recognized the beauty of what was happening. Inside this home in Urbana, a large room full of people sat in an eclectic mix of chairs in rows before a grand piano, fully present and excited to hear the work of two local(ish) writers! It was a wonderful experience.

Not surprisingly, John wrote a piece about the evening . He dubbed the event a Salon, an old tradition of people gathering in homes for the purpose of discussing literature or politics or art. Although it wasn’t that exactly, we were encouraged to bring finger foods and/or drinks and to linger afterwards to talk and I would venture to say that most of the conversations were about writing. In any case, I’m in complete agreement with him. Bring back the Salons! I think it’s a tradition that would serve all of us well as we come out from our Covid shells craving community and intellectual/creative stimulation.

It’s happened. Another year has tipped over to the next and despite the fanfare and vast spreads of foods and other heraldry, we mostly find ourselves easing back into the same worn shoes, the same ill-fitting bra, the same car we never found the time to wash and the same work-dreams that made our nights fitful before the holiday season.

A friend posted this on their Facebook page, and I felt a wave of relief, or comfort, or perhaps of Wendell’s gentle arm across my shoulder. I love poems that do that. They don’t ask for much of our time. They only grip us tightly for a moment, like a hug, just to remind you of our shared humanity; that you are not alone, ever, in your journey.