Chimera Song Mosaic
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Get your Pachanga on!

This just in from David Rice: the Con Tinta Celebration at AWP.

When: Thursday, March 9, 2006 @ 6:00 to 10:00 p.m.
Where: Doña Emilia's South American Bar and Grill -- 101 San Jacinto Blvd, Austin, Texas
Admission: No cost for buffet. Cash bar. (Donations to offset cost are welcomed)

The evening will feature an award presentation to two of our veterano writers, Rolando Hinojosa-Smith and raúlrsalinas. The Quetzal Quill reading series will feature California poet Diana Delgado, Bronx spoken word champ Oscar Bermeo, and Chicana luminary Lorna Dee Cervantes.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006
It's getting, maybe, a little too close, but here it is, for those who are interested (come hear me, Marisa, Xavier Garza, David Rice, Kim Henkel, and Diana Lopez read):

We Bring You the Border: Writers of the Rio Grande Valley

Date: Saturday, March 11
Time: 1:30- 2:45
Location: Austin Convention Center, Meeting Room 4 ABC

Tuesday, February 14, 2006
I just wrapped some beetroot up in foil and roasted the aluminum balls in the oven. After they had cooled (the kitchen smelling like hot dirt), they slipped right out of their skins, leaving behind pools of inky cool magenta. It made me want to stain something (other than my fingertips and the dishtowel) right then. It made me wish I were a prehistoric painter or cloth dyer. It made me wish I had no other medium but the beet ink to communicate my aesthetic, not this blog, but some animal skins or broadcloth. But this is much easier. So I just chopped them up and stored them in preparation for a cream of beetroot soup that I'm making tomorrow for Valentine's Day. Didn't I miss Valentine's Day already? Oh yes, but I was so exhausted after shopping in an unfamiliar grocery store that I had to go home and nap while the beets were roasting in the oven. And the taste: silky, like refined earth. When I cut one open, it looked like a black pink vegetable kidney with paler branches and discrete nephron pigments.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
I loved reading Gillian Conoley's interview at HereComesEverybody. She's so Texas!

My Dad used to always read us "The Cremation of Sam McGee." And maybe "Anabelle Lee" was my firstfavorite poem, too; Or what about the first poem I memorized intentionally, "The Destruction of Sennacherib"? (could explain my preoccupation with pugilism); go Back Further: The Grumbling Grocer of Grumbling Grove? (only poetry book I memorized); go back further: "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout . . ."? Go back further: aha . . . It's "The Highwayman." Obviously.

In case you're not from TX or the South/Southwest, and you're planning to travel here or come to AWP: it's spelled "Y'all." The "ou" in the you is missing, but the all is all there.

But I misspell stuff all the time. Really I do. It was hard being an English teacher with this particular dark secret. I might have told of the time when I was grading high school AP exams with a much more experienced teacher, and he commented on the students' difficult handwriting, and I smartly said, "I can read anybody's handwriting because my own is so awful" (pretty much true), to which he countered, "I find that bad handwriting is largely an effort to hide poor spelling." Which is probably also true. Like the other day I revamped my resume (took me 6 months of pre-dreading it!), and Lance pointed out I misspelled "dual" as in two; I had spelled it "duel," as in Pushkin.

I guess those big pickups with double tires in the back are spelled "Dualies," though I've seen it spelled "Doolies." Now that's just ignernt.

I really like grits. I'm not making fun of anybody; grits are just good. Tortillas, cornpone, johnnycake, polenta, tamales, cornbread, arepas, hominy, corn is just good stuff. Tasty corn, tasty grits, mmm . . . yum.

There are some Texas sayings that you might want to know. I don't claim to know them all. But I just heard this one the other day, "It shines like a diamond in a goat's ass." My sister reluctantly told me that it is one of my dad's annoying sayings, and I was like, "What?" I'd never heard it before. Also, I don't really get it. Does it mean the goat's ass is so fluffy that the diamond is hard to see, like a needle in a haystack, or does it mean that the diamond is, well, a diamond, and the goat's ass is kind of grubby and assy, and the diamond is "in the rough," so to speak (which is the uncut form of the diamond, or is it like the rough on a golf course)? Like the goat's ass is kind of dime-a-dozen, and the diamond is rare because of tight criminal regulation of export. Anyway, my brother and my mom confirmed that this is, in fact, one of my dad's sayings, so how come I've never heard it before? It's like I'm missing out on part of my family history. I thought I was in charge of archives.

I like goats, too. Small, cute, fluffy goats. I used to have a pet goat when I was two. He got in the house one day, and I held on to an actual memory of this until like 8 years ago until it finally untethered itself from my brain and was replaced by my remembering, a retelling of the original memory. I re-remember the little, perfectly formed round turds all over the couch and carpet and kitchen floor. His name was Billy, and that's what he grew up to be, and then he went to live on my aunt's ranch. Camel turds look like black olives, and I'm almost sure I have said that before here, which I guess is one good reason to kill your blog, so you don't have to worry about repeating yourself.

I wish I had a Scaregoat. They are the next big thing after Puggles.


Powered by Blogger