I had a lovely trip out to Wedgewood in the north end of Seattle today, to participate in a little literary salon with the Village Idioms poetry group. What great people: all very friendly and welcoming and easy-going. They have been meeting off and on for about ten years. We had a yummy lunch of stroganoff and salad and pear slices and cheeses, sipped wine and champagne. And then I presented about poetry & medicine, read a few poems from What's Written on the Body and Saying the World, and led a discussion on whatever questions arose. We had a break for dessert, followed by a workshop of poems from the group (love letter from Albert Einstien to Marilyn Monroe, a family of locked doors, love & spell poems, Vishnu in the bathroom, a river turnscrew, an ode to the human hand). They were all such good writers that the critique was fairly easy to do. I think I had a few good points to share about lines breaks, ellipsis/disjunction, diction shifts, beginnings & endings. It was sunnny and bright out, and the magnolia trees in the neighborhood were bursting full of pink and white and purple blooms. And it really felt like spring was here.
When I got home, an old dear friend had stopped by, and was waiting with Dean in the dining room to surprise me. Oh Mary! You looked terrific, and it was so nice to see you after ever so long, and to sign the new book for you, and wander the garden, and have our picture together. Come back again soon. xop