Sucking at studying

I read a lot. But… I'm 50 years old and I still can't study—not effectively, not with efficient retention.

It's been an odd week.

I've been reading some energizing and inspiring anthologies, including Ecstatic Occasions, Expedient Forms, Lyric Postmodernisms, and now The Verse Book of Interviews.

But when I remember something I've read and try to find it, I'm lost.

I saw a really helpful quote, and now I can't find it anywhere. While I was searching for it online, I thought I saw it, but now I can't even find that. Could my brain have created this memory to fill a gap? (I've read that brains do this, and I might even be able to tell you where.)

And I thought I read an interview of a Very Famous Poet. I remember thinking, "Do I want to read this? Sure, might as well." I remember details of the biography (which, it turns out, is the biography used for this poet ubiquitously), and I remember details of the interview, but I can't find that either. And I don't think my brain could have fabricated all of that!

Which leaves me...where?

Two days left

I'm two days into the intensive writing class at Richard Hugo House. That means I'm at the halfway mark, and the experience has been amazing.

The class is taught by Karen Finneyfrock, and it's small--only six of us. We're meeting every afternoon for two hours, learning and writing for the four straight days.

This means I get to work early so I can leave early, and that means I haven't gone to the gym all week. But I get out of the class and I feel so great and where I need to be.

Movement poetry

If you're in Seattle on July 17th, 18th, or 19th and want to see some dance, head to the Leo Kreielsheimer Theatre at the Bagley Wright for performances at 8:00 PM.

A woman in my dance class handed me this flier because her son will be performing in many (most) of the dances. I've seen him dance, and it's definitely worth the price of admission.

He came to dance class with his mom while he was on break from Julliard, and watching him was amazing. I felt like it opened a door for me, showed me This is what dance can be, and inspired me to work toward that.

It reminded me of my dance studying days in New York, when I took ballet class alongside dancers from big, famous companies—dancers from Merce Cunningham's company, Twyla Tharp's company, and Mark Morris, to name-drop a few.

Just by being there and watching, I could learn so much. (I couldn't ever do it, but I could at least see how to try.)

I feel the same way going to poetry readings or reading the work of different poets. Sometimes, I read a book of poems and really like it. But why? It's showing me something—but what? Now I'm seeing what poetry can be, and I need to figure out why.

Right now, I'm reading Tracy K. Smith's The Body's Question for the second or third time. It's showing me a new side, or a new depth, of poetry, another way of thinking and writing. Do I need to put my finger on it? I don't know, but I think it will help. I'm trying.

Stay tuned.