Hello dds,
I got in.
opened the door and here I am .
read the other postings about
Trungpa Rinpoche and Zen and the sandwhich.
It's me, Katharine.
I read a couple poems in front of people as a part of a new book, "Uncontained...in the margins....garden" with the eco-arts gang on saturday and listened to many while looking up at the great big sycamore at Naropa's Lincoln campus. The poets seem relaxed and wholesome and the day was like that..watching the sun shine up the leaves and get in the eyes of all the poets..They squint but the sun is still in the eyes. I wanted to move around but I stood pretty still and read like the others (a thumb away from the mic) and it was soo fun and inspiring...I love the poets and inspired MYseLF!
Last week dd was hard for me to get out of my previous week of deep silence and sitting and rise to the occasion of the creative buzz of the work...There must be some seperation in my being that takes a while to climb back into the brave world of speech and creative juice...So, listening to the poets and reading myself I started to get the feel back again...Oh this is a voice...this is what we do..talk into the mic or in the street or at the bank or down by the river....By the way there is a wall where people are putting up things they write...at the library..part of the eco-arts wall.
Ok. Now you can all see how I'm getting the swing of the CoLOrs....and the liGht has changed in these few moments it took me to write. It is shining up the keys.
Do we write love?
sure.
alright then.
(I'm looking forward to us in three and a half hours from now.)
love,( love...as oppossed to...brown or black...)
kk
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