My videos have found their way

...into class. A while back a teacher from a Saskatchewan school contacted me about using one of my video poems for her online English class. I learned yesterday that it indeed happened. She had used my video "The Writing Life" as a conversation prompt in an English class in the previous school year as well. I giggled when I heard that. I had so much fun during the making of that video. None of us thought for a moment that it would be used in a classroom discussion on metaphor.

In my wanderings this morning

...I read Nikki Reimer's post over at Lemon Hound and the comment that followed. It immediately brought to mind the session called "Poetry: The Short Form and the Long Form" that I attended at the SWG conference in October. The panelists were Hilary Clark and Robert Kroetsch. As expected, the room was packed and so was the session. I rarely take notes at sessions these days, but I was among the many jotting things down. I didn't want to forget anything. So this morning I dug the notebook out of my bag. I wanted to see what Kroetsch had to say about the long poem and failure. Here's my notes.


Apparently I failed to jot it down.

Annoyed with myself, I crawled on the bike and pedaled my way through Kroetsch's Seed Catalogue. Not exactly punishment, I know. All the while I thought about accumulation and delay and how it might apply to what I'm working on.

Serendipity is a dippy word in my opinion, but it did come to mind when I hit these words on page 17:

This is a prairie road.
This road is the shortest distance
between nowhere and nowhere.
This road is a poem.

Though I've read those words many times before, it was never when I needed them. I know I need them now.

As for what Kroetsch said about failure at that session, I can only guess. I now have several versions going through my head, none of which sound quite right. What I know for sure is where he was looking when he said those words. I remember the expression on his face. I could easily sketch it. And as I pedaled I thought a sketch was indeed in order. But then I hit these words on page 23:

We silence words
by writing them down.

What if by sketching him I silence the expression? If I silence the expression, I'll lose my link to the words. I'll lose my direction. At that point I found myself pedaling faster, despite the increased tension. My heart was pounding. I knew I was getting carried away. But that's allowed. Then came a clue on page 36:

He is somewhere under the failed wave.

So there I go.

Anger is the heart

...of this post over at Speaking of Poems. I tend to go back to blogs to check the comments on posts that catch my interest and I'm often rewarded. Such is the case here. The comment by John Pass is well worth reading.

The Rustic Bunting is mentioned

...in this book review that was published on the weekend. I didn't know that Bill Robertson is into birds. I wonder what percentage of writers are birders?

Clocked doing 2010

...in a 60s zone.


As I take time to reflect, I want to thank you for stopping by. It's been fun. Happy New Year!