we call this last minute!

so when I am about to go to the University of Colorado to lecture and have already sent twice a picture of a picture: first, Cornell's Taglioni Box, and next his Toward the Blue Peninsula and a different title, I get right now a message saying would I please talk on Picasso? So I now sent a Picasso of Dora in a yellow shirt and a title about Picasso, Dora, and Some Other Things, thinking I can get to that when I get to that and in the meantime have not been able to access my own university's slide room, have to wait until tomorrow for the very very very long address, I think: oh shucks, let's just go back to what i really want to do next, which is submitting a proposal for several original poems: from Neruda and Paz and Holderlin and Rilke  and Char and Reverdy and Mallarme and Rimbaud and so on, surrounded by several translations each, and I long to Get Back to that, to say nothing of my Pascal Critical Life I am really wanting to do soon, and this is what I should say to my students: Be Ready for Whatever You are Asked to Do and enjoy the flexibility, otherwise, just Forget It

oh, I found at least this, so I won't again Forget It!

Lawson's Landing

The most absolutely staggeringly beautiful and in principle deserted beach, except for a few boats and trailers, in one of which we are living for the moment, leaves me wordless and speechless except to say just that. I am looking at a grey water, have walked along the sea grass to put my spirits together before taking up my teaching  post again next week after a year sabbatical (mostly devoted to writing about my grandmother the painter, who did everything imaginable in the world of southern living, mountain living, Parisian studying at the Academie Julian and knew the Worpswede painters and writers, like Rilke) , and to getting permissions (hate that part) for my forthcoming Modern Art Cookbook (Reaktion, 2013). I would rather give ten talks and write ten more books than get one more permission to publish anything: mea culpa, I guess, but i really do hate it.
Anyway, I am here, and we, with my husband and 2 of his sons, Hal and Alec, and a wonderful chef named Maxime who is Alec's partner, all took a boat to Nick's Cove to have lunch, and now we are ensconced in blankets outside by a fire.  Life does not get better than this, I do believe.