zooming issues

 So when I was supposed to join in with a committee for a brilliant thesis, drawn and colored and written about Virginia Woolf's letters, I went to the calendar instead of the zoom link and was 20 minutes late, that was the WORST time in my year so far...

On the other hand, how nice it is to see the names of one's friends and conversation participants (my mini-seminar in translation/interpretation and then later in obsession/omission, see them below the pictures, also in our book clubs!

and Also how nice not to have to GO anywhere except for walks to the distant (given my slow pace) Central Park and out to dine outside at various restaurants we love: Barking Dog! the District! Pascalou!

Nick's!, and for me, coffee (today iced with matcha, whatever that is, is green) whole devouring Liane de Pougy's notebooks..

So I am sending the first 12 pages of Jacques  Derrida's The Post Card to the participants in my mini-seminar or really reading group on translation and interpretation starting next week, and am zooming on and in, and listening to interesting this and that like Honor Moore and Roxana Robinson talking about biographies...And my Mina Loy and also the poems in my Alice Rahon are in press, and I am thinking of what is next...

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June 7, 2019

So the summer is with us, and the time and space it allows and affords mean you have to think whatever you are doing matters to someone... outside your household. It is generally about walking and writing and thinking about whatever you are writing about and doing to be relevant to something.
As if everything were to be relevant: so since we need a publisher to bring out and perhaps some financial help for our international anthology of prose poems... In the meantime, Boyce and I went to Dunkin Donuts to pick up our (my and sometimes his) favorite flavors of Baskin Robbins:
Mint Chocolate Chip (0ver which I like Mint syrup) and Pralines and Cream, over which anything caramel or rum-like or and also Marshmallow Fluff... Then we sat outside and shared a Caramel Latte,
now that is New York Living with a delight all around. Many late afternoons I meet a friend from somewhere at the Barking Dog on 3rd and 94th, and that is a joy uninhibited by any academic problems. 

So here it is June 5, 2019, and however we got here, somehow it happened. Responding to a friends' posting about Amor Fati, I remembered the very strong and very moving work of Alix Kates Shulman on her marriage and loss and survival, To Love What Is, of which the ninth chapter is "Amor Fati."And that brings up what we each can do about what is coming at us, sometimes hard.
I walked up to have a glass yesterday evening with the wonderful poet Grace Schulman at the place I hang out,  the Barking Dog. We talked and talked and then, thanks be, she walked me one block home, and being with someone you can talk about everything with is major important.

Just an hour ago, I walked back up that same hill, having decided I would either go to the wine store to renew our Ouzo and Prosecco, exactly four blocks away on the same level, but up, up that hill. Not much of a hill, but how you notice when your left knee is Kaput and has to be changed, and can only be replaced when your shoulder can bear the weight of a crutch, and your shoulder has just been replaced, and there you are in a heavy black leather and such sling. Now I know noticing and paying attention are essential, but how noticing this and that change things.

Never mind, I get to get home and look at what I am writing, always fun. Just as seeing poet or any other intense friends is a joy. Here is to joy!