Tag Archives: DIY


16 Dec

This morning teaching that I need ignore time, and think more inclusively— it’s your story, but not just you.


Bang on the door

15 Dec

of your own pessimism.

Tell it that it’s getting evicted.

Take notes

15 Dec

On everything.

Observe and react.

Readers should always be responding.


15 Dec

going to so wildly and torrentially slay tomorrow…

I’m already celebrating.

us now

14 Dec

Done with papers.  Headed to room in six minutes.  Can’t believe this is the last day of regular instruction.  It hasn’t registered with me yet… why.  Daughter turning 2, tomorrow.  Time just rubbing everything it does in my face.  Have to write quicker, teach quicker…. Ready self for Spring.  Ordered books, Tuesday.  Accomplishment…. This idea, ringing around my head like something more than bells.  Like an agitated animal of some kind.

I’m an educator, sitting here in this adjunct, shared office with decisive indecision, which is a decision if I’m acknowledging it, I guess.  Have to print something now… not enough time, but there’s plenty of time.  Good thing I have more coffee in this cup.

11:50—  Go print it now.  Can’t.  Some luncheon in the same conference room where the computers are… wait.. can print from this office.  See?  Mind moving so quick and frantically that I’m not seeing what I should be seeing, right in front of me. Learning from that, from me, this instructor in a chair typing from caffeine’s curious court.

Just knocked out two things.  But… shit.  Have to walk to other building, Maggini Hall, that dusty, decrepit, dingy edifice as I call it.  Smelling all the food has me hungrier than hungry.  Taking a breath…. Learning.  Always ‘in the learn’.  It’ll get done, I tell myself, knowing it will but knowing somethings could have been done earlier.  But, no sense in grieving, voicing some frivolous critique or deconstruction of my ways and actions, practices, not sure they’re “habits necessarily”, but…

Last day of term.  Make the radiance rain.  No… make it storm, thunder violently from your pages and ways, character and creative quaking.  We’re all teachers as much as we are students, this last day’s instructing me.  Like Hemingway, everything around me.. all doors and people, books and voices, words, cups and pens, notebooks, bags, steps I hear in hallways, walkways, crossing the street, teach me.  Wouldn’t say I’m educated, or taught.  That means it’s done.  The study won’t end.  It can’t.  I don’t want it to.  And if I can put both off, for all days, then I’ll be accomplished.  I think.


14 Dec

This is where your head should be.

Revision IS writing.

Look through your work with the harshest and most honest, candid of lenses.

All days you should say—

14 Dec

I love how the cosmos are composed and contorted for my forward.