Chimera Song Mosaic
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
I just want to get in a quick post from here. I am having the most fabulous time, but that's not quite accurate; it is so exhausting. But something about the long daylight hours or the excitement of being a total linguistic and cultural minority or maybe all the exposure to other poets and writers has gone me pinging and pining at the same time: for rest! For more! For ballet! For something unexplainable.

The most important thing so far, or at least the first most important thing happened yesterday on a walk lead by Russian poet Arkadii Dragomoschenko: he articulated so much that I have been feeling and thinking about traveling and experiencing and avantguardism and underground writing and many things in general that I have been so far unable to articulate. There are many things going through my head right now and the heads of everyone else around me. Plus the delight of linguistic submission--the reaching for meaning in written words on the street, on signs, on papers, etc., and the failing in understating but the absolute want to understand. It's the imperative that making language acquisition possible. Of course, I have no illusions of undertakings much more than a few polite phrases before I leave, but I will take something back with me, lists of books to read, of course, the books themselves, but more than that. The information and tepid transfer of experience that is expected of me.

Interestingly, each family member and friend that I have emailed has asked me to do something different while I am here, his or her own concept of Russia. Some say go to the museums, the bars, the parks, readings . . . Everything I will try to do because I am owed to it. Gotta go.

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