Yesterday a day of nearly no HappenStance. It was Gillian's birthday (that's Gillian who does nearly all the cover images for HappenStance), so I got up, did a couple of orders and the cheques to go to the bank, then started the birthday cake. When I opened the cupboard several things felt out, including the balsamic vinegar. The top blew off and it spattered all over my face, hair and t-shirt.
I feel this week as though I've read more poetry than anybody else in the world. It's an enriching experience, in some ways, reading a great deal of verse -- I mean bookfuls every day. At the same time, it's frustrating because what I really like is spending time with an individual poem, turning it inside out, trying it on for size. Perhaps that's why I like doing the pamphlets: typing out each poem by hand, getting the feel of it, hanging it outside on the line to dry.
Opening envelopes, closing suitcases.
I now have a whole new vocabulary about eyes. Myodesopsia, operculum, vitreous humour, entoptic phenomena. Wonderful words and especially relevant to aging myopic people such as myself. Then there's the less delicate word 'floater', which makes me think of a jelly fish.
The submissions month continues. My brain is now full. I've read a lot of poetry and sent back a lot of comments.
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