Poetry is a bodily art

Robert Pinsky, The Sounds of Poetry: The theory of this guide is that poetry is a vocal, which is to say a bodily, art. The medium of poetry is a human body: the column of air inside the chest, shaped into signifying sounds in the larynx and the mouth. In this sense, poetry is just as physical or bodily an art as dancing. Moreover, there is a special intimacy to poetry because, in this idea of the art, the medium is not an expert’s body, as when one goes to the ballet: in poetry, the medium is the audience’s body.

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Letters with @jsonbecker, week two

This is week two of a continuing series of letters with Jason Becker. More information and the letter from week one can be found here. Dear Jason, It was interesting to read about your history online and a little more about the motivations for this project. I sincerely hope this project leads you to the interactions you are looking for. With that, let’s move in the direction you’re wanting to go.

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JeffersCast episode one: “Carmel Point”

Introducing JeffersCast, my wildly amateur podcast (using micro.blog’s wavelength app) about the work of Robinson Jeffers. First up, a reading of “Carmel Point” followed by a few comments.

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What have you done with one string lately?

I’m curious.

  • Do you have songs in your head never, rarely, often, always?
  • Do you consider yourself a music lover, that is, music is important in your daily life?

I ask because of the difference between my wife and me. I always have songs in my head, though I’m obviously not always aware of them. But when I’m not actively attending to something, it’s like the volume on the music turns up. My wife, on the other hand, does not always have songs in her head. Also, music is not as central to her life as it is to mine. I wonder if there is some correlation between people’s experience of songs in their head and the degree to which they consider themselves a music lover. Also, if the connection does exist, how does one affect the other (the chicken and egg problem)?

Woodworking notes 2/6/2023

Over the weekend I completed one side of the trellis on the grape arbor. I’ll put up another on the opposite side. The rabbet is exposed on the ends at the top and bottom; I’ll put some wood putty there before Rachel paints it. Another thing: if you’re going to put up trellis like this and you have a table saw, don’t buy the frame pieces they sell with the trellis.

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It’s letter writing day! I’ve just emailed my second letter for @jsonbecker’s Letters project. I also have three pieces of personal correspondence to type and mail today. Join in the fun by sending a letter to PO Box 110 Oolitic, IN 47451 USA.

A fantastic essay from Paul Kingsnorth that captures so much of my own feeling. It even turns on a poem by blessed Robinson Jeffers. I’ll warn you: it’s a bit gloomy, so if you’re feeling pretty good about the state of the world then you might not want to read it.

It’s Candlemas!

I reserve the right to celebrate holidays in my own way, and today is no exception. Candlemas appears to be another of those holidays that is a mix of traditions. (In my mind, there’s no need for this to be a controversial statement. Blending and adapting traditions is just what humans do. To be clear, this is different from the colonial impulse, which is about force and monocultures.) In the Christian tradition, Candlemas is a remembrance of the presentation of Jesus in the Temple as well as the ritual purification of the Virgin Mary.

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Now playing. It’s a good album, but I love the cover.