Sunday, June 29, 2008

It is HOT! Dean and I stopped by our local espresso place for a refreshing midday iced beverage (comes w/ free air conditioning). We were reading the Sunday NY Times. A great review of the new Selected O'Hara by William Logan. I think he is pretty balanced in his assessment: he sees the genius, but also the mediocrity, of some of the poems. There are some great lines about O'Hara, his New York, gay life, his poetic method (or lack thereof). I think it is wonderful that the best of O'Hara's work only seems to improve with time. And I love this section:

He began to make poetry from whatever happened around him — today, he might have written a blog (italics mine). At the time, however, this preoccupation with the trivial, with the nothing of life that is nothing, seemed to jettison everything — meter, the calculated symbol, the grave poetic tone — associated with the manners of the art. However much one loves “Four Quartets” or “Lord Weary’s Castle,” it’s refreshing to open O’Hara and read:

LeRoi comes in
and tells me Miles Davis was clubbed 12
times last night outside BIRDLAND by a cop
a lady asks us for a nickel for a terrible
disease but we don’t give her one we
don’t like terrible diseases, then
we go eat some fish and some ale it’s
cool but crowded we don’t like Lionel Trilling
we decide, we like Don Allen we don’t like
Henry James so much we like Herman Melville
we don’t want to be in the poets’ walk in
San Francisco even we just want to be rich.

The headlong style, the lines broken like breadsticks, the punctuation limping along or missing entirely, capture the city’s rush and welter, though O’Hara’s physical world is curiously impoverished. Every poem seems to start from scratch. The back cover of “Lunch Poems” claimed that frequently O’Hara, “strolling through the noisy splintered glare of a Manhattan noon, has paused at a sample Olivetti to type up 30 or 40 lines of ruminations.”


Tonight I am making lamb kabobs marinated in yogurt oregano cumin and coriander (see recipe from last year here) and Dean and I are going to sit out on the back patio in the shade and sip gin fizzes and/or pear ginger martinis and do a crossword or read some poems and watch the tomatoes grow and pick some fresh lettuce and toss it with Dean's dressing and goat cheese and pine nuts and try not to feed or to squirt the neighborhood cat that always comes by.


The SMC concert was a hoot. Leslie Jordan was hysterical. A sort of love child of Truman Capote and Blanche DeBois. And barely 5 feet tall. I loved his little vignettes, especially the one about his first job in Hollywood being the spokesperson for the Selective Service (all those sibilant S's!), and his "dream sequence" about trying to "recruit" 18 year old boys to serve their country. Hehehehe. The encore with him on a go-go stand, in gold lame, shaking his booty to "Dancing Queen" was perfect.


It's gorgeous in Seattle this weekend. And it's Gay Pride! Time to get out and enjoy it!


PS: for Rebecca's Amusement Park Horror files:

Teen Decapitated by Six Flags CoasterAUSTELL, Ga. (June 28) - A teenager was decapitated by a roller coaster after he hopped a pair of fences and entered a restricted area Saturday at Six Flags Over Georgia, authorities said.

Six Flags officials are uncertain why the unidentified 17-year-old from Columbia, S.C. scaled two six-foot fences and passed signs that said the restricted area was both off-limits and dangerous to visitors, spokeswoman Hela Sheth said in a news release.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

I loved this poem from Poetry Daily the other day.


Such havoc there was in your house
when the sparrow flew in
and the cats set to: somebody's arms
flailing, somebody's larynx ululating. You
were reaching out to interrupt a cat
as the sparrow dove into your arm
beak first, and pierced you through the denim
like, in truth, a hypodermic needle,
the tiny wound introducing
a great quietness. How
solemnly then, and oh so slowly you
sidled into the out-of-doors, the sparrow
at peace on your sleeve in a semblance of nest.
Did the air move? Only a little. Hardly enough
to ruffle a bough on the red-leaved Japanese maple
that you were about to become — or would have become
if this were a myth, or a believer's dream.

--Barbara Greenberg


It is supposed to be 88 today and tomorrow. Summer is finally here! At least for a two day stint. The tomatoes and basil and cukes and squash are lovin' it. And I am loving wearin' shorts and tee-shirt and eating dinner al fresco.


I am covering Saturday walk-in clinic today . But it might be slow since the weather is nice. Patients are like that, miraculously cured by a sunny day — don't get me wrong, that's a good thing.


Tonight Dean and I are going to see the Men's Chorus with friends. Leslie Jordan (the short guy who appeared on several Will & Grace episodes) is the special guest. Should be fun!


Friday, June 27, 2008

Pics from the recent Lambda Literary Awards are up on the Lambda site here. Looks like it was fun!

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Wednesday, June 25, 2008


Gay City Health Project is seeking high-concept, gay-themed fiction, poetry, photography and comic art for its second, annual anthology. You do NOT have to be gay or male to submit work.

The theme for this volume is “Toward a Manifesto.” As homo and bi-sexuals become more mainstream, we are continually redefining “gay culture.” What is gay culture? If we had a manifesto of gay art, what would its products look like? Blast beyond the gay clichés. Find new truths in old manifestos. Do you have something gay-ly surrealist, queerly vorticist, or bi-sexually post-modern deconstructionist? Send it to us. Pinkly stuckist, neo-futurist, queer-core, objectivist or punk? We want to see it.

All work must address or be informed by the Gay City mission of building community, fostering communication and nurturing self-esteem. We are not looking for erotica unless it addresses the mission in a fresh, new way.

1. Send two (2) hard copies of all work (no electronic submissions).
2. Your name and contact information should not appear on the work itself, only on your coversheet, along with the title of your work. The title should appear on each page of the work.
3. Submit up to 3,500 (max) words of fiction, or up to four poems, or up to six pieces of digital art (including photographs), or up to eight pages of comic art (formatted for a 6x9 book). All submissions should be in black and white. Plain laser prints of art are fine.
4. Include an SASE (self-addressed stamped envelope) for reply.
5. Please do not call to request the status of your submission.
We pay if and when funds are available, at $15/page up to a maximum payment of $75.
Contributing artists/authors also receive a complimentary copy. One piece from each discipline will also receive the “Editor’s Choice Award” of an additional $50.

Entries must be postmarked by December 1st, 2008.

Send to:
511 East Pike Street
Seattle, WA 98122
To learn more about Gay City Anthologies, please visit, www.GayCity.Org or write to

Monday, June 23, 2008

What is going on with all the wild animals coming in to urban areas and hunting? What does it mean? We've had racoons for years, I wouldn't classify them as wild necessarily; but now we have coyotes eating neighborhood cats (this happened a few blocks from us), and more . . . (see article below, perhaps it will trigger a poem for you?).

Nanny saves child from coyote's jaws
And other strange stories of human, animal conflicts


Seattle isn't the only city with aggressive animals. Strange stories from across the country have accumulated over the past few years to paint a vivid picture of the growing conflict between humans and urban wildlife.

In April, a hawk in Boston's Fenway Park swooped on a teenage girl and scratched her scalp with his talons, causing her to bleed.

A Florida woman was walking her dog in March when a bobcat approached, grabbed the pet in his mouth and retreated to the nearby woods. The woman has not seen her dog, a Maltese named Bogie, since.

In November in Clintonville, Ohio, a deer stabbed a dog with his antlers in at least five places on the dog's side, chest and face. The dog, a Doberman, suffered a ruptured diaphragm and stomach, but survived.

A black bear opened a glass sliding door to enter a woman's home in the middle of the night in Aspen, Colo., in October. When the woman heard noise in her kitchen and went to investigate, the bear clawed her in the face. Two weeks later, wildlife officers trapped and killed the bear.

An 11-year-old boy was dragged from his family's tent and killed by a black bear last June in American Fork, Utah. The bear was found and killed by wildlife officers two days later.

A nanny pulled a 2-year-old girl away from a coyote that had grabbed the child while she was playing in a sandbox in Chino Hills, Calif., in May. Coyotes bit three other children in the same area that month.

Wild turkeys wander the streets of Boston, chasing joggers and small children, damaging cars with their beaks and occasionally attacking people. In 2006, a turkey jumped on the back of a woman in Brookline, Mass., and attacked her with its talons.


I spent most of Sunday putting together a lecture/workshop on line breaks/line endings. I used Logenbach's The Art of the Poetic Line, Myers and Wukasch's Dictionary of Poetic Terms, Dobyns' Best Words, Best Order, some articles i had saved over the years, the new Center "Symposium on the Line," (great issue!) and added some of my own ideas. I think it is going to be a really fun presentation. A sort of taxonomy of types of line breaks, from the kinesthetic to the affective, with examples, and then an exercise.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

From This is supposed to display a current map of how the electoral votes are falling, according to current polls, but it looks like the code is not quite right. BTW: today it is Obama 317, McCain 194.

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Saturday, June 21, 2008

Dean and I saw Get Smart last night. What a gumdrop of a movie! We were both big fans of the TV show from years ago, and I think this Steve Carell vehicle did it proud. The plot is beside the point (but let me just say the scenes shot in Russia are gorgeous!) It's all about the jokes. Anne Hathaway is great as 99, as is Alan Arkin as the Chief. Dwayne Johnson as Agent 23 seems a little out of place here. Bill Murray pulls a great but too-brief cameo as Agent 13 stuck in a tree post. Terrence Stamp plays a deliciously evil Kaos agent. James Caan is spot on as a dumbass President GW Bush (though it is never stated, it is quite obvious, given his need to always ask "What does the Vice President think?"). Patrick Warburton comes in way too late as a terrific robot Hymie. I think I feel a sequel coming on.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Re: Happiness, in pursuit thereof

It is 2005, just before landfall.
Here I am, a labyrinth, and I am a mess.
I am located at the corner of Waterway
and Bluff. I need your help. You will find me
to the left of the graveyard, where the trees
grow especially talkative at night,
where fog and alcohol rub off the edge.
We burn to make one another sing;
to stay the lake that it not boil, earth
not rock. We are running on Aztec time,
fifth and final cycle. Eyes switch on/off.
We would be mercurochrome to one another
bee balm or chamomile. We should be concrete,
glass, and spandex. We should be digital or,
at least, early. Be ivory-billed. Invisible
except to the most prepared observer.
We will be stardust. Ancient tailings
of nothing. Elapsed breath. No,
we must first be ice. Be nails. Be teeth.
Be lightening.

-- CD Wright, from Rising, Hovering, Falling

BROWNBOX Presents World Premiere of Chad Goller-Sojourner’s Highly Anticipated Solo Show: Sitting In Circles With Rich White Girls: Memoirs Of A Bulimic Black Boy
July 11-20, 2008

On the heels of a successful 40-minute workshop presented through the CD Forum’s Creation Project in May, Goller-Sojourner has now completed his memoir and will premiere the full length production for 6 performances, at the Rainier Valley Cultural Center, Friday, July 11th through Sunday July 20th.

At times funny, biting and somber Sitting in Circles with Rich White Girls: Memoirs of a Bulimic Black Boy chronicles the performer’s life-long affair with the scale and a ten plus year liaison with an eating disorder. Also an exploration into the process and pattern of identity construction, in this case how growing up fat, dark-skinned, gay, and adopted by white folks affected and shaped the performer’s maturation Sitting in Circles with Rich White Girls: Memoirs of a Bulimic Black Boy is always crushingly honest, with the performer’s greatest gift being the ability to find playfulness even in the midst of grief. Chad Goller-Sojourner has received overwhelming support from the Seattle arts community including organizations like Richard Hugo House, The Bent Writing Institute, CD Forum, The Shunpike and Seattle Poetry Slam.

The production is directed by BROWNBOX artistic director Tyrone Brown. Brown explains, “Chad’s writing is brilliant. He has this remarkable ability to transport the audience to a time and place showered in such vivid detail that you actually become a witness to his life. As a performer, Chad is so engaging that it’s like you are the only other person in the room and he has personally invited you into his past to experience his life first hand.”

Chad Goller-Sojourner is a Seattle-based poet, spoken word performance artist and 2007-2008 Seattle Poet Populist Nominee. His inaugural Chapbook entitled Born One Thousand Years Too Early: Fat, Dark-Skinned, Gay and Adopted by White Folks: A Fragmentary Journey Towards Alignment received accolades from Maya Angelou and has been described as poignant, chilling and prophetic. Recently he served as the creator, executive producer and artistic director for People of Color Against Aids Network Presents: Standing In The Gap- And Speaking Their Names - Black Gay Poets Honor Their Ancestors - A Spoken Word Requiem. In 2007 he was selected by the Central District Forum for Arts & Ideas to participate in their year-long new works Creation Project which is funded by the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) and The Microsoft Corporation. To learn more about Chad Goller-Sojourner, visit


I heard Chad read from some of this at the Seattle Poetry Fest last year, and thought it was pretty good. Check it out!

Tickets: $12; $10 Students/Seniors
Advance sales available by calling 1-800-838-3006

July 11, 12, 18, 19: 7 pm

July 13, 20: 2 pm

BROWNBOX is a theatre company dedicated to “the creation, development, and production of contemporary and original African American theatre.” Founded in 2001 by Tyrone Brown, BROWNBOX is currently a resident theatre company at the Rainier Valley Cultural Center in Columbia City. The company’s initial success included the original production of Black To My Roots , which won a Fringe First Award at the 2002 Edinburgh Festival Fringe in Edinburgh, Scotland

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Not-So Terrible Twos

Worked a half day this morning, mostly doing admin. stuff. Then I babysat my nephew Brett in the afternoon for a few hours. He is 2 1/2 now, adorable, and a real bundle of energy. I took a tip from a friend and we went to the park first and ran around on the jungle gym for about an hour. I think it tuckered him out enough that when we came back home he sat and played with his books while I gardened in the back yard. Dean came home from work and we made pork chops and veggies (such a nuclear family!). And after a little dinner Brett fell sound asleep! He was still fast asleep by the time his dad came to pick him up. Ahhhh . . . .

View of the back yard/side yard. I love the little geranium pots. They make me think of Italy.

This Bird Has Flown

Yesterday afternoon-evening the three baby robins hopped out of their nest, and gingerly crawled around in the honeysuckle branches for a while. The mother bird swooped in and fed them one last time. And then one by one each fledgling jumped: and flew off. Though not very far (I guess they are weak, and still so new at it). One poor little bird flew directly into the wall of our neighbors house. Ouch! And sat dazed for a minute on the ground before hopping into the hebe in her yard.

The nest is empty now. No sign of them coming back. What will Dean and I do for entertainment now? Hmmmm . . .


Poetry group tonight at my house. I hope the weather is nice so we can sit outside.


Sunday, June 15, 2008

For Father's Day

Burning the Nests

Atop an orchard ladder my father
stands half-hidden by the black cherry's
tangled branches, holding a gasoline-soaked
rag wrapped on the end of a broomstick.
He flicks open his silver lighter, tells us
to stand back as the torch ignites
and he thrusts the burning thing up
where the white nets of caterpillars
tent the upper branch tips. A terrible
crackling like singed hair
fills the early April evening
as we squeal, and the smoldering
bits of caterpillars fall to the ground.
Weeks later we will eat the spicy
meat of the cherries, not even thinking
of this carnage. Or if we do, only
as the kind of work that fathers
will do, for their children.

From What's Written on the Body, Copper Canyon 2007


Had an interesting afternoon meeting with Chris Diani on at his place on Queen Anne to record a reading of my poem "Gay Test" for a cable TV program in Seattle, called Gay City TV. I have *no idea* how this will turn out, but it was sure fun to meet Chris. He is a local film-maker, whose most recent piece is a love child of Ed Wood and John Waters, titled "Creature from the Pink Lagoon." Check it out!
A row has broken out in Portugal's literary world over plans by heirs of the nation's most famous modern poet, Fernando Pessoa, to auction his unpublished manuscripts and letters. Thanks to Jilly for the link.


Just when I thought that Kooser didn’t have a brain in his head, however, he surprised me. The last poem in the book, written for his wife, has all the fierce, stubborn Frost-like humor the rest of the volume lacks.

The hog-nosed snake, when playing dead,
Lets its tongue loll out of its ugly head.

It lies on its back as stiff as a stick;
If you flip it over it’ll flip back quick.

If I seem dead when you awake,
Just flip me once, like the hog-nosed snake.

There might be life in the old snake yet.


Howe is better than most poets in this vein—it’s unfair to call them Confessional Poets, because they have so little to confess. They might better be christened the Memoir School, poets so wrapped up in the truth of their lives (though truth is the first victim of memoir), the poems seem claustrophobic. The trouble with such poets is that their lives become an end in themselves, rather than a needle’s eye used to interpret the world. William Logan Reviews, from The New Criterion, thanks to C Dale for the link.


Saturday, June 14, 2008

Hot Music Vids and Robin Pics

I saw these two music videos on Logo last night, and thought they were great. Apparently Colton Ford is a former gay porn star (surprised?) turned Club DJ turned Pop Music Diva wanna-be. Talk about sellin' it! I love this video. The song: so so.

And then this one, "Do U" from Sir Paul. Is he his own twin? Or is this a second person?

Finally: as several of you have asked: some pics of the baby robins. The nest is in a hard place to photograph, but I think you will be able to make out the three little sets of beaks and eyes.

Here's momma sitting on them.

Here is one of the newly hatched pink wiggly things from about ten days ago.

The original nest, seen from below.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

"We are seeing a historic hydrological event taking place with unprecedented river levels occurring," said Brian Pierce, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service in Davenport. "We're in uncharted territory - this is an event beyond what anybody could even imagine." I feel sorry for the Midwest. Really.


Beautiful afternoon in Seattle today. Maybe summer really is on its way? We'll see.


The baby robins are getting huge! The parents swoop in with worms to drop in their mouths, and the three of them arch up in unison and grab for the wigglers with their beaks. Very aggressive and fierce and demanding now! We have noticed the baby birds, after taking a mouthful of worms, will then poke their butts in the air and produce a glistening round egg-like white glob (their shit?). Which the mother gobbles up in her beak and eats! And flies away. Ick! Gross!!


Today we put footies on the pears. Over 200 so far. A good crop despite the weather. The basil looks pathetic. We are going to have to replant it. But the beans and the tomatoes and the corn and the squash and the cukes are fine. All we need now is some solid days of sun.


Busy with work. Busy with meetings with financial advisors. No time for poems. Maybe this weekend?


Celtics beat Lakers and are up 3-1. RIGHT ON! (PS: I *hate* Kobe Bryant).

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Use this word in a poem . . .

This week's theme: Words borrowed from Irish. (From A Word a Day)

dornick (DOR-nik) noun

1. A piece of rock small enough to throw.
[From Irish dornog (small stone, literally fistful).]

. . . and be nice.


Monday, June 09, 2008

Toenail Nicotine Predicts Heart Problems

To investigate, the researchers correlated the nicotine content in toenail clippings collected in 1982 for 62,641 women participating in the Nurses' Health Study to the risk of being diagnosed with heart disease between 1984 and 1998.

The women in the top fifth for toenail nicotine content were thinner, less active, heavier drinkers, and more likely to have high blood pressure or diabetes, as well as a family history of heart attack, compared to those with less nicotine in their toenails, Al-Delaimy and colleagues found.

For some reason this creeps me out a little. They saved the toenail clippings for over 20 years? That's just gross.


Dean and I went to a party Saturday night at this amazing house on Lake Washington. It was a 1950's two-story rambler type that had been completely gutted and re-done in a very sleek modern fashion. It had an open floor plan with almost no inner walls or doors, just continuous spaces. Hardwood floors everywhere. Walls of windows over-looking the lake. Warm sandstone colored marble in the bathrooms. Giant walk-in "His & His" closet off the master bedrooom (to die for). Skylights. Little fountains and garden spaces surrounding it. Very Zen in the clean, minimalistic sense. It was truly beautiful. And great for entertaining.


I had a fairly productive weekend working on revisions. It's amazing sometimes, that if you can put a draft away for a year or so, and come back to it, how it becomes so clear what is missing, what is needed, what should be cut, what needs tuning. And, for some old drafts, to finally realize that you just have to hit the "delete" button. And be done with them.


The baby robins are growing so fast! The male and the female spend most of the day taking turns sitting on them, or bringing them mouthfuls of worms and slugs and gooey grubs of some sort. It's fascinating to watch the adults through the window, standing on the edge of the nest, and dropping the stuff into the gaping mouths. As if it were some kind of carnival game: "some for you, some for you, some for . . . hey, back off, it's your sisters turn." The little ones already have feathers forming, and are looking more "bird-like" each day. The three of them are really filling the nest now. Soon they are going to have to fly.


Sunday, June 08, 2008

Not Even Close

Got up early to watch the French open final, hoping for a dramatic five-setter. But it was over almost before it started, as Nadal simply annihilated Federer one, three, and love. My oh my.

It was fun to see Bjorn Borg sitting in the stands, and then on stage handing out the winning trophy. Even kissing Raffa on the cheek! I remember watching Borg play in his prime. He was in great shape then, and now he is a handsome tanned silver-haired retiree. How time flies.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Have a Cigar!

We had at least three baby robins hatch yesterday, in the nest outside our living room window. The little birds are amazing: about the size of a finger, all pink and wrinkly, with huge eyes, and gaping mouths, with little yellow lines that must be the beak.
It looks like maybe one or two of the five eggs did not hatch (or perhaps they are still to come?). But it is hard to tell exactly, as the clutch makes this little roiling mass at the bottom of the nest.
The mother still sits on the nest much of the day. Which makes sense, as it is cold as hell still (for June) and raining (this is Seattle, after all), and these little things look pretty fragile.
Still no crows in sight. Fingers crossed.


Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Griffin Poetry Prizes

Does anybody know who won? In the international section, I am rooting for Elaine Equi's The Ripple Effect.

Authors Margaret Atwood and Michael Ondaatje are among the literary stars set to celebrate the best in poetry tonight at a dinner in downtown Toronto.

The Griffin Poetry Prize Awards give $50,000 to the best book of Canadian poetry and $50,000 to the best book of international poetry published in English the preceding year.

The prize money is a considered a king's ransom within the low-profile world of poetry.

The Griffins, celebrating their eighth year, were created by Toronto businessman Scott Griffin.

This year's judges – George Bowering, James Lasdun and Pura Lopez Colome – read over 500 books of poetry from some 31 countries.

Unlike the Scotiabank Giller Prize, the Griffin is a more casual event, held in the city's trendy Distillery District.

Simon Fraser University professor emeritus Robin Blaser, considered one of North America's most outstanding poets of the postwar period, is on the Canadian shortlist for The Holy Forest: Collected Poems of Robin Blaser.

He'll be up against Montreal writer Robert Majzels and Calgary-born Erin Moure, who made the list for their English translation of Notebook of Roses and Civilization. The book, from noted Montreal poet and novelist Nicole Brossard, also earned Majzels and Moure nominations for the Governor General's Literary Award for translation last year. If they win the Griffin, they will share 40 per cent of the prize money with Brossard.

Rounding out the Canadian shortlist is Toronto author David McFadden for Why Are You So Sad? Selected Poems of David W. McFadden.

Four books are on the international shortlist: Notes From the Air: Selected Later Poems, from John Ashbery; Elaine Equi's Ripple Effect: New and Selected Poems; The Complete Poetry: A Bilingual Edition, by Clayton Eshleman, translated from the Spanish, written by Cesar Vallejo; and Selected Poems 1969-2005, from David Harsent.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

The lovely and talented CD Wright is reading in Seattle Wednesday night, from her new book Rising, Falling, Hovering. I am on call and seeing patients in clinic until 5pm that day, and have about three other things scheduled, but I really want to go, so I am going to try to shoe-horn it in somehow. See you there?

Poet CD Wright
Wednesday June 4th, 2008 7:00 pm
The Seattle Public Library
Central Library Microsoft Auditorium

Free and open to the public. Doors open at 6:30 pm


Sunday, June 01, 2008

Need a Brief Writer's Conference?

from Susan Rich:

Writing It Real in Port Townsend! A Conference for Fiction Writers, Non-Fiction Writers, and Poets: Thursday, June 26th – Monday, June 30th

Port Townsend is an inspirational place to write and a relaxing place to visit. Come join like-minded individuals in a lovely Victorian seaport where daylight lingers till nearly 10 pm. Our program of lectures, panels, brown bag lunch presentations, small-group discussions, manuscript workshops and in-class writing exercises will guide you to deeper and more meaningful writing. We have three poets on staff who work in prose as well as poetry: Susan Rich, Meg Files and Sheila Bender. All of our lectures and exercises will help you write stronger poems as well as lyric narrative.
Includes a tour and reception at Copper Canyon Press.

Since 1999, our faculty's trademark has been enthusiasm, warmth and genuine down-to-earth instruction in lectures and small-group instruction. Check out our conference highlights for a detailed description of the workshops and lectures.

For fees, registration, travel and accommodation information, and scheduling see our
conference website or email .