Literature, because it is made of language, returns language to us. If we have the words, we are not silenced, although we learn, through the enforced quiet of reading, what it means to be silent. – Jeanette Winterson
“Start asking the men in the industry how they’re going to change things and stop asking women to bare our souls.”
Everyone knows a heart is just responsible for filling a thing with blood, except it never fills love with blood because no one can do that because love comes when it wants and it leaves when it wants and it gets on an airplane and goes wherever it wants and no one can ever ask love not to do that, because that is part of the risk of love, the worthwhile risks of it, that it will leave if it feels like leaving and that is the cost of it and it is worth it, worth it, worth it. — Catherine Lacy, The Healing Center
“Some of us are Norman Mailer, but others of us are middle-aged Portland housewives.”
The bill for the kids’ piano lessons loomed. Although I have to cajole and bribe them into practicing, when they finally play, there’s nothing that brings more warmth and life to a house than the sound of a piano. Practice, I tell them. Give yourself something no one can shut down or take away.
Jenny Shank: I’m Doing a Reverse Marie Kondo on My Life
The thing you’ve got to understand is that I grew up being marketed to, so there aren’t many advertising tricks that work on me. Seriously. Ever since I was a child, companies have been telling me to buy, buy, buy—making me think, on some subconscious level, that my needs are the only ones that matter. And I believed it all. It wasn’t until years later that I realized how lonely this had made me, and that mere accumulation doesn’t lead to happiness. I finally understood that no company or product or advertising slogan could provide the companionship I needed. But it was too late. Decades of being told what to buy—and what to feel, and how to think—had left me numb. I carry that numbness everywhere now; I fear that it will never leave me. So, anyway. Maybe write a funny jingle about that?
River Clegg: How to Market to Me
A falta de dinero, las canciones de Juan Gabriel me inspiraban a grabar casetes con canciones de la Hora de los Novios de Radio 14 que luego regalaba. Mi primer crush lo tuve en la secundaria y grabé un mix que empezaba con Me Gustas Mucho. Preparé todo para el momento de entregárselo, la grabadora, las 6 pilas de 9 volts, una tarjeta hecha a mano en forma de corazón, el segundo receso antes de la clase de Ciencias Sociales, pero no lo hice. Me quedé con este y con muchos casetes que nunca entregué.
This story and photos warmed my heart. Also, you read it right: A grade school with its own mariachi band.
Herrera is here because of the Tucson Festival of Books — he will read from his works and take part in a panel discussion on Saturday, March 11. The University of Arizona Poetry Center, which is sponsoring his visit, arranged for his appearance at the school, where students have been studying poetry for the last three semesters. As part of his visit, a couple of grants were awarded so that every student would receive an age-appropriate book by Herrera.
The boys and girls filed in in single lines and sat on the floor. They were all giggles and chatter until principal Carmen Campuzano stood. The buzz slowly died down, then the school’s mariachi band played a few tunes for the guest of honor. — Kathleen Allen. US poet laureate is rock star to Tucson school's students
John Ptak arranged and re-arranged and “poemized” some text from an old agriculture publication about burying bees. I too found the title, Burying Bees, odd and fascinating and the post another reminder why I enjoy his blog of antiquarian finds.
With a few line breaks here and not there of my own, here it is:
Bees may be buried when flowers are gone,
and left until they come again.
Weak stocks may be wintered,
but they are usually more trouble than they are worth,
because they are annoyed and kept weak,
if not robbed by the stronger stocks,
and because they consume proportionally more honey to keep them warm.
While in the ground each bee eats its own allowance.
They are not annoyed by the mice,—JF Ptak Science Books: Found Poetry on Buried Bees (1865)
nor disturbed by the changes of the weather
but really are at rest; nor is the expense much compared with preparing
and placing bees in a room, or cellar, or watching out of doors,
following which we buried our stocks last winter.
All the music you love from the clubs and nights you can't quite remember. Now without the $15 door, second-hand smoke, or urine smell. It's the San Francisco Disco Preservation Society.