Archive for April, 2010

la musique de l’été

Thank you, La Blogotheque, for being so excellent. And thank you, Le Cargo, for being its wonderful twin. You are (and have been) my summer.

Here’s to singing out of tune in my car.

I am in such a hurry to say what something is like. I fail in saying what something is.

I’m up. (Sunny mornings are so beautiful!)

I’m excited for the day. I’ve got an exam that I’m a little ill-prepared for at 8 am, but it won’t be too bad. I’m not worried. It will get done. And I’ve got a portfolio due between 5-7 tonight. There’s a lot I need to do for that. But when I’m done with all this stuff, I’ve got one more exam tomorrow and I’ll be done for the summer. And I’ve new friends to hang out with this summer! This is terribly exciting.

But I should get going to class. Sun, stay out!

It’s so wonderful outside! It’s raining, but it’s still peaceful and great. The world’s in bloom and it puts me in a healthy mood. At my parents house, our neighbors’ dogwoods are nothing but flowers. They’ve become behives. If you stand next to the trees and unfocus your eyes, you can see them all at once. And you can hear the low, majestic buzz of a thousand tiny wings. Makes me love bein’ outside.

I should start going back to the fish hatchery now that warm weather is here(ish). I love killing the day out there. I always see so many cool things. I remember a couple years ago, I saw an otter (or a beaver?) swimming in the reservoir next to me as I walked. It was so cool! I’d like to think it was following me.

Da, da, da. I’m tired.

I can’t wait to start writing regularly again. Summer’s a comin’ and I think I’ve got something to run with. Last night, I copied a bunch of stuff from my notebook onto my computer and I surprised myself a little. What perks.

“Progress does seem to come so very heavily disguised as chaos.”

– Joyce Grenfell


Huh. And just when you think you know a guy!

The Potomac Review picked up one of my poems and gave it a home. This was surely unexpected; thank you to anyone and everyone who has given me support!

Wind is gorgeous when you need it. High pressure to low. Through an open window and onto your neck, a whistle or whisper—so pleasant. None other than here, than now, than ever; where will I be when the wind doesn’t blow like it did just then?

welcome home

Welcome to c’est rien, a place for expression. For myself. For yourself. This is my fragment of thin air; do what you will. This is nothing. This is everything. Only because.