Last night, we had some crazy weather that set off the city's tornado sirens, though apparently there were only funnel cloud sightings, nothing on the ground. The sky was the most interesting shade of green, though, just ripe for it. Then it just poured and poured. After heading home, I ended up watching a decent horror movie "The Dark," all Welsh countryside, trepanation, and scary little girls, perfect for a dreary night.
Today's tasks included tweaking the layout on the print annual (which I plan to print tomorrow if all goes well) and updating the dgp website, plus messing a bit with cover ideas for the next few chaps. Also took a perusal through this week's manuscripts for thesis seminar, which got me thinking about projects as poets. I realize at some point I really became focused on individual projects, which has no doubt spurred me to write more, since I have a goal, a direction. It also helps me to be able to "finish" things, for the most part. To be able to move onto the next thing. Maybe it's that practical nose to the grindstone Taurean side of me, but if left to wander aimlessly, writing poems about whatever moves me, I'd never write a damned thing. Too little focus. Or maybe it's those fiction writing roots, to stay focused and work through to completion. To get at things from a bunch of different angles. Sure I often fall off into interesting little diversions, but those things eventually become projects themselves. Right now, there's pulling together girl show, the the barest bones of dulcet, the Cornell project, the phobia poems, and a new fledgeling little project called a brief history of fire, mostly city/Chicago poems. Of course, I get so many things rolling and I never finish anything, but getting girl show in shape is the priority (I think I might like to begin submitting it over the winter.) And the Cornell stuff, since we're planning an April release. And then, who knows..
