small post

I had a peaceful weekend. I met a super friendly Matt Bell, heard him read about a mechanical messiah, was captivated by Joanna Howard's lyrical internal meter and got drawn in by Brian Evenson's "Wind-Eye." Wind-eye is the Norwegian word for window in English. I love how one word can grab someone and make them create a story.


Then, Chris Toll held mass on the 11th floor of the Bromo Seltzer tower. The room was white and full of afternoon sun. There were benevolent armchairs. Joe Young brought us "When Light becomes St. Paul" and a discussion followed. I brought original sin and some stuff about taproots. I thought it was a good pairing.

I slept and woke and played Irish music on my mandolin. I bought my cat a jungle-gym igloo. I bought him catnip, but will dispense it carefully because I read cats can give themselves brain damage because they have such little self control when it comes to inhaling the herb.