Let's raise our glasses... To friendship, so true!
Feels like spring, even though it is fall
Here we are, right at home. Good luck to you
My heart overflows... Good luck to all!
★ Inspired by poetry? Treat yourself a gift ★
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
In Full Blossom!
So we're having a launch party for Home! My honey cake, cookies, coffee... And flowers from friends and readers from around the world!
★ Inspired by poetry? Treat yourself a gift ★
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
So What's the Plan?
So, you ask, what is the plan for Home? Are we going to have a launch party On Oct. 10, or what?
What a question! We are, and this is the way I see it: an intimate gathering. No need to bring anything; nothing but good wishes! But if you insist, think of bringing me something special, the way you would for your mom. Perhaps, a flower? I would love that! Post it on the event page (it could be a photo, a drawing, a scribble.)
If you do, I will put your flower here, in this vase, which I have already painted in anticipation of your visit. I can already imagine a delicate fragrance wafting through the air...
What a question! We are, and this is the way I see it: an intimate gathering. No need to bring anything; nothing but good wishes! But if you insist, think of bringing me something special, the way you would for your mom. Perhaps, a flower? I would love that! Post it on the event page (it could be a photo, a drawing, a scribble.)
If you do, I will put your flower here, in this vase, which I have already painted in anticipation of your visit. I can already imagine a delicate fragrance wafting through the air...
The Quilt Of Memories
Come up for a breath... Fight your way back, against the flow
of time
Is your hand too cold? Can it sense the warming, the glow
As you climb?
Reflections are trembling, rippling to the edge of the pond
Water lily
Stay here, just under this surface... You can see far beyond
In the dark, really.
(Inspired by the water lily in the quilt)
Thank you for sharing your memories--in photographs and art--describing your home.
I have woven them together, into a quilt of memories, and presented at my launch party
In celebration of my new book, Home.
Images contributed by
Charudutta Aghor (interior designer, poet. Naqpur, India)
R. Russell Bittner (father first and foremost, poet. Brooklin NY)
Ia Uaro (author of Sydney's Song. Sydney, Australia)
Thomas Carty (Poet, Celtic fanatic. Tullamore, Ireland)
Ivy Ford DeShield (Contributing Editor @Recipes for Good Living Magazine. Washington)
Chris Lawrence (writer. West Kirby, UK)
Aimee Anderson (freelance writer. Boston, Massachusetts)
Tony Henninger (poet & writer. Midland, Texas)
Renee Pierce Williams (Author of Buck the Good Doog, Midland, Georgia)
Abdullah Jaan
Uvi Poznansky
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Back on the Show: Sports and Life, LA Talk Radio
After my first time on his radio show--in which we talked about my novel, Apart From Love--I wrote this for Cameron:
He brings athletes, belly dancers, performers each Friday
Right into your bedroom, for you to hear, honey!
So when Cameron called me I knew, I just knew, right away
That with him, I'll find myself in such great company!
He asked: if your novel would turn into a movie
Who'd play Ben--immature, insecure and naive?
Who'd play Anita--sexy, edgy, and groovy?
What my answer was, you just wouldn't believe!
Let me introduce him to you: Cameron Datzker is a veteran of sports talk radio for over 20 years. His background starts back as a play by play announcer calling both college football, and minor league baseball and hockey. He has spent his broadcasting days as a host for various radio stations in both New York and Chicago and Oklahoma City. Cameron had the highest rated public access shows called, "it's a sports thing" which appeared on the Time Warner TV Network, this show featured various no name singers, dancers and performers as well as it featured belly dancers and celebrities in the community. To listen to our first conversation, click here.
Now, not being a belly dancer, I am very honored that Cameron asked me to come back on his show, Sports and Life on LA Talk Radio, this time to talk about my poetry book, Home. The show will air Friday night, Oct. 5, 2012, at 8:00pm Pacific Standard Time.
To listen live, click here and choose Channel 1.
The Live Call-In number: 1-323-203-0815. I would love to talk to you!
The Live Call-In number: 1-323-203-0815. I would love to talk to you!
Monday, October 1, 2012
At the core, what does home mean to you?
At the core, what does home mean to you? When you close your eyes, what image comes to mind? For me, the image that best captures the essence of this word was painted when I was ten years old. Outlined with simple pencil lines, brushed in a flat manner with Gouache paints, and perceived through a head-on perspective, this is a scene of the 'golden age' of my family:
Which brings me to this moment, where again--to fill the emptiness of this space I conjured up a spirit, a muse that with great pity takes the place, in its entirety, into her arms; embraces it, and mourns not only the passing of my father, but all the lives lived between these walls, and moved on and away.
"Absolutely Stunning!"
Here we are, my father, mother and I, dancing the Twist (or at least, learning to do so) in unison. In the left corner you can spot the radio (set on an end table); in the right corner is a hanging lamp, on the wall over our head is a framed landscape, under our feet is a beautiful persian rug, the pillows on the red sofa seem to dance as well, or at least they are balanced on a point... And most importantly, all three of us are feeling the same beat. This, to me, is not just a picture of home; it is a picture of happiness. It is what was lost in later years, when my parents separated.
Later in his life, when left alone in this space, my father painted it and through the walls he connected it to the memory of his childhood home. You can see the same red sofa, the framed landscape, the Persian rug... But not a living soul. The place is empty, and he filled it but conjuring the image of his mother rocking the cradle.
Later still, when he passed away, this space transformed once again in my mind. The landscape faded away from its frame, and it is barely hanging, barely clinging to the wall. The designs on the Persian rug have faded out too. It has multiplied into layers of blank paper that are swaying under your feet. The lamp is not just hanging, it is swinging wildly, giving a rhythm to the gusts of wind that threaten to destroy this place. It has already kicked the end table (where the radio used to stand in the first image, and where later my father would put his pen and notebook) upside down.
Which brings me to this moment, where again--to fill the emptiness of this space I conjured up a spirit, a muse that with great pity takes the place, in its entirety, into her arms; embraces it, and mourns not only the passing of my father, but all the lives lived between these walls, and moved on and away.
★ Inspired by poetry? Treat yourself a gift ★
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