28th March 1941: Virginia Woolf, Dead at 59

Virginia Woolf drowned on this day in 1941, her pockets deliberately heavy with stones. Did she, I wonder, caress their smooth surfaces with the pads of her thumbs, as she waded into the water? Did she choose her death-coat because it had roomy pockets, or because it was her favourite? Was she being sentimental or practical?

Virginia Woolf, 1902

Virginia Woolf, 1902

The River Ouse received her whilst her books were on shelves in libraries and homes around the world. It wasn’t enough, but why should it be? Private wars are always the hardest fought, and are seldom won.

What words and ideas did she leave unwritten? Would they have changed literature, changed the world, changed me? Ah, but we’ll never know.

Daily Prompt: Judgment Day

I cannot get over the fact that it is possible to have one favourite book. My mind is blown. What was the question again?

This bafflement is in response to the Daily Prompt: Judgment Day. If you were to judge your favourite book by its cover, would you still read it?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Future Tense

An engagement, a marriage, a fantastical blooming: this apartment building has silently witnessed it all. After six years, we are moving. After six years, we are ready to go forward. Into the next phase of our lives. Into the beautiful unknown. After six years, we are saying goodbye to our flat, our neighborhood, our first real home as a couple. The future awaits, somewhere across the river.

Exit Sign

Exit Sign

“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”-Kierkegaard

“It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.”-Poe

“I don’t fuck much with the past but I fuck plenty with the future.”-Patti Smith

Daily Diversion #111: Oh, look, it’s back!

Welcome back, snow! Gee, it’s hard to believe it has been 8 or 9  months since…oh, wait. What? What do you mean spring opened her arms in a warm embrace 5 days ago? Why are you back so soon? Didn’t you get the memo? Have you looked at a calendar? In this part of the world you should be on vacation until at least December, maybe even January. Please take heed of this plea, and skedaddle.

Early spring snowstorm

Early spring snowstorm.

Oh, hi there snow! You suck.

Oh, hi there snow! You suck.

[R]evolving Incarnations: A Questionnaire For Passionate Readers-Featuring Cassie of Books & Bowel Movements

[R]evolving Incarnations: A Questionnaire For Passionate Readers is an interview series done in classic Q&A format. Each entry features one intrepid writer/blogger/artist/creative mastermind as they take on the same 40 reading-themed questions and scenarios. This is the second entry (you can read the first here). Be sure to leave your thoughts in the comments section!

CASSIE

Cassie of Books & Bowel Movements is a North Carolina based blogger. I discovered her blog shortly after joining WordPress, and it remains one of my favourite reads. Her writing is funny, beautiful, and moving. Be sure to check out her site!

  • What book have you always wanted to read, but haven’t? Why? I’ve never read “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn” by Betty Smith. My mom is going to kill me for this if she sees this Q&A.  She’s been recommending that book to me since sixth grade. I’m not sure why I haven’t read it. It’s just one of those books that sits on my shelf and I know I’m going to read it one day and hopefully that will be the day that I was meant to read it. There will be some lesson that I need to learn at that moment in my life. I haven’t read enough Larry Levis, Leonard Cohen, Anne Carson, Jack Gilbert or Edna St. Vincent Millay, Amy Hempel, either. And Raymond Carver, but I think I’d need a whiskey sour and a deep cigar in order to crack him open for an evening.
  • What is your favourite line or passage from a book? Oh, dear God. How do I choose one?  I’ll give you one or two from each of my favorite book notebooks.                                                                                                         Notebook #1: titled “Summer 2011-Fall 2011: Chautaqua, Merwin, Phase 10”
    1. “You know everything at 8, but it is hidden from you, sealed up, in a way you have to cut yourself open to find.” – The Gathering by Anne Enright
    2. “Do not listen to the lies of old men/who fear your power/who preach that you were “born in sin.”  A flower is moral by its own flowering.” –Circling the Daughter by Ethridge Knight

    Notebook #2: titled “Bad Experiments: Miss Blue Pleated Skirt”

    1. “But ultimately, it all remained unreadable for him, though reading, he felt, was not a natural thing and should not be done to people. In general, people were not road maps. People were not hieroglyphs or books. They were not stories.  A person was a collection of accidents. A person was an infinite pile of rocks with things growing underneath. In general, when you felt a longing for love, you took a woman and possessed her gingerly and not too hopefully until you finally let go, slept, woke up, and she eluded you once more. Then you started over. Or not.” – Lorrie Moore
    2. “But it was more than that. It was womanhood they were entering. The deep forest of it and no matter how many women and men too are saying these days that there is little difference between us, the truth is that men find their way into that forest only on clearly marked trails, while women move about it like birds.” – Andre Dubus
    3. “Virginia imagines someone else, yes, someone strong of body but frail-minded; someone with a touch of genius, of poetry, ground under by the wheels of the world, by war and government, by doctors; a someone who is, technically speaking, insane, because that person sees meaning everywhere, knows that trees are sentient beings and sparrows sing in Greek.” – The Hours, Michael Cunningham 

    Notebook #3: titled “End of the Image”

  1. “When I want to see the furthest into my soul, I will write a sentence by hand and then write another sentence over it, followed by another. An entire paragraph will live in one line, and no one else can read it. That is the point. On occasions, in a café, I can fill an entire paper place mat on both sides. On a plane, the paper bag for airsickness is my canvas. Anything will do: the backs of business cards, receipts, and napkins, any scrap of paper. A friend of mine calls it my disease, I call it my confessional.” – When Women Were Birds, Terry Tempest Williams

And every other word written by that woman. 

Inspiration Board for the [Untitled] Short Story I am Writing

In my world, complex stories call for physical inspiration boards. The five-part short story I am writing has been in the planning stages for 3 years. In fact, the first part was written in January 2010. I’m finally ready to move ahead with the rest of the project (more details on that later). After completing it, I plan on adapting it into a play. Ambitious, much? Always! Before starting on the second segment, I decided it would be wise to pull together the disjointed bits of inspiration that have been living in my head for so many months. This collective of images lives on one of the glass blocks that divide my studio from the bedroom I share with The Chef. One glance to the left from where I type this, and ta-da!

I fancied up the photos so that you have a better idea of how things look inside my head!

Inspiration Board for Untitled Short Story

Inspiration Board for Untitled Short Story

Yes, it is set in the 1920s. Why do you ask?

Inspiration Board, alternate treatment

Inspiration Board, alternate treatment

I will add images to the board as needed.