As ever, I wish I had more to say for myself. I didn’t publish much in 2019, and submitting is time consuming so rather neglected. I read fewer books and few deeply impressed me. It could be the quality of my attention. More about that in a day or two (since I still have about 28 hours to add a book to my tally). Mostly I was working, or traveling or cleaning birdshit off my balcony.

Creatively, the biggest accomplishment of the year was finishing my book, Hotel Almighty, which is due next summer. I had a July deadline to have all the pieces finished so I had some intense months making or redoing poems. Nothing left but to be nervous about publication.

Publications

As to single poems, I published 15 poems and visual poems in six journals in 2019. It seemed scanty throughout the year, but typed out it doesn’t look that paltry. Links! Info!

Heavy Feather: Eat Not, You make me Easter, My Frenzy, Pipe Dream

Bear Review: Train in to Winter, Study with Nightcap

Handcastle: Dark-foliaged (print)

Lily Poetry: Steward of the Rum, Hidden Lodge, Spokes, The Obvious Unstated, Halfway Up (print)

ctrl + v: Bruckner, Astonishment

Unlost: They drove around

Late in the year, I had  acceptances for poems to be published next year from Palette Poetry and The Rumpus, some of which are found poems from Hotel Almighty. I’m thrilled about both of those.

Other scattered occurrences

May: My luggage was lost on my return from Philadelphia. It was a heartache, headache and loss of money. Months later, I still think of it and wonder, might they yet find it? My mother says it was pinched. What a thief wants with the socks & trousers of a middle-aged lady, I don’t know. Or my taste in books or my lavender sachets or my vitamins. Very depressing.

July: My college roommate Carle visited me in Spain and we flew to Granada for a long weekend. It was wonderful to see an old friend. We did a tapas tour that included enough food & alcohol for four young men. We told our guide at tapas bar #4 that we were done, though really we were done at #3 if not #2. Still, I had a memorable glass of sherry.

August: I designed my book cover in a cellar in the Austrian Alps. I had been daunted and thought I’d never pull it off. But giving up on perfection helps. Also, the Alps were sublime.

December: At year end, we lost my stepfather at 94. A kind man, a good man, a great hugger.

Next Year

Now that I don’t have an overarching project in front of me, I want to be free to experiment with poetry, collage and embroidery and not feel like it all has to end up as some kind of Meisterwerk. My resolution is to get on with it and not be precious about things. Sometimes I won’t use an image in a collage because I’m ‘saving’ it for something stupendous! But when the stupendous thing is going to happen. . .