April is National Poetry Month, a concept of course eagerly embraced by our local library district. First of all, I generally find that anything starting with "National" and ending with "Day," "Week" or "Month" to be gratuitous and annoying.
But (second of all, and SCANDALOUSLY) I spent most of my life thinking generally of poetry as affected and effete.
Then in my masters program, I took a class with a local educator who was an alumnus of the same creative arts program. It had so affected her that she ended up publishing this book. In the... two?... weekends I spent with her, we created at least 30 poems, and at least 10 finished visual arts pieces as companions. I have never been the same.
I was so "meta" about my first poems. They were coy and ironic. The work just sucked me in, however, and now I kind of wallow around in poetry. In fact, (and in spite of the fact that I do not teach literacy in my current job assignment) when teammates think of me, describe me, plan birthday celebrations for me, or create some kind of tribute to acknowledge a career anniversary, they go straight to art and poetry. (not drama, and not science)
Isn't it a strange world?
1 comment:
Unfortunately for Laurie, she is stuck with three teammates whose ideas of poetry are limericks and haikus.
Laurie, it's Sunday
Oy, tomorrow is Monday
Back to the squirrel cage
Post a Comment