Today, somehow is the very first day of spring. I keep thinking about the first stanza of The Wasteland and summer coming over the Starngerbersee. This week, I'm having a hard time coming into or caring about art or poetry or anything at all. I think this will pass, hopefully, in the next week or so. I see everyone talking about online readings, book releases, and poetry stuff and I am just ambivalent about it all. I have moments in life where poetry life seems like a game in which there are no stakes and no one cares. Maybe this is one of those moments. But part of me think the poetry obviously important more than ever (thus my obsession with the Eliot lines), but maybe the po-biz stuff is what is just seeming to fall flat for me. I do have a book set to come out in the next month and while I was thinking any release activity would have to wait til summer anyhow, it seems strange to be in a place of limbo in terms of when the world will go back to business as usual, if ever. It's a beautiful, rough book, with a press I love, though, so I will regroup and focus on maybe selling some copies. There is also NaPoWriMo, which it seems, with a slowdown in hustle, I have ample time for in April and of course, ample ideas for new projects. I just need to get focused and motivated. I do intend to keep blogging here daily on various things, focused and unfocused, specific and random.
As for spring, it's sort of dreary out there today nevertheless, but the sun, if nothing else will return.
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