rabble babble
Back at school now. Time differences are terrible inconveniences. Hima na toki ni, dake netai desu... But at least, I've been getting up very early, eating breakfast everyday, and riding rather leisurely to class each morning. The supposed congregation of cats and dogs has been cancelled this afternoon and looks to turn into a clear day bright enough for surfing (should I actually live anywhere with a sea warm and gentle enough :).
I was reading my new materials on passion in late imperial literature quite happily when an adenoidal conversation between two distinctly unbashful girls at the next table drove me out of the previously pleasantly humming cafe and into the sunshine. The air was glorious. The Pink Panther has recovered very well from his back tyre surgery yesterday and rides more smoothly than ever. Though there was some drama regarding uncooperative drippy weather under which I dutifully pushed the poor thing (not really once sitting down on the way from home to school) to the bikeshop, everything went well. Several traditional bike rides with Far this time in Holland has reminded me how comfortable PP is, especially in the positioning of the handlebars. They are perfectly ergonomically angled whereas my old sky-blue mountain bike has much flatter, less organically inclined angles that hurt the little dip between thumb and forefinger, the site of innumerous paper cuts.
Got into poetry writing workshop by some miracle. There is a silly lottery system based on seniority and paper proclamation of creative writing as a minor here (vis a vis college's more meritocratic writing sample submissions), but I suppose I was meant to take this class. G is a hilarious instructor. I just am not sure whether I could produce poetry on deman--everything smacks of indulgent prose recently...
Might head to Berkeley this weekend to pick up a mysterious, if erroneously addressed package from the powers that be in the publishing house in New York. I wonder what it could be. The guy who called me up from my old address is sure it's a book, but I want to wait till I get there to find out. Also a chance for a change of scenery though I hope the more malicious crazy men on Telegraph will leave me alone. But Reel popcorn (of pure safflower oil and premium kettle corn origin) will be renumeration enough. Perhaps. Afri-Cola, how I have missed your sweet, cold kiss!
I was reading my new materials on passion in late imperial literature quite happily when an adenoidal conversation between two distinctly unbashful girls at the next table drove me out of the previously pleasantly humming cafe and into the sunshine. The air was glorious. The Pink Panther has recovered very well from his back tyre surgery yesterday and rides more smoothly than ever. Though there was some drama regarding uncooperative drippy weather under which I dutifully pushed the poor thing (not really once sitting down on the way from home to school) to the bikeshop, everything went well. Several traditional bike rides with Far this time in Holland has reminded me how comfortable PP is, especially in the positioning of the handlebars. They are perfectly ergonomically angled whereas my old sky-blue mountain bike has much flatter, less organically inclined angles that hurt the little dip between thumb and forefinger, the site of innumerous paper cuts.
Got into poetry writing workshop by some miracle. There is a silly lottery system based on seniority and paper proclamation of creative writing as a minor here (vis a vis college's more meritocratic writing sample submissions), but I suppose I was meant to take this class. G is a hilarious instructor. I just am not sure whether I could produce poetry on deman--everything smacks of indulgent prose recently...
Might head to Berkeley this weekend to pick up a mysterious, if erroneously addressed package from the powers that be in the publishing house in New York. I wonder what it could be. The guy who called me up from my old address is sure it's a book, but I want to wait till I get there to find out. Also a chance for a change of scenery though I hope the more malicious crazy men on Telegraph will leave me alone. But Reel popcorn (of pure safflower oil and premium kettle corn origin) will be renumeration enough. Perhaps. Afri-Cola, how I have missed your sweet, cold kiss!
posted by greenyew at 1:45 PM
1 Comments:
I see you are a poetry lover. I would recommend Frederick Turner. He's a fascinating poet. He has written several books of poetry, and even a few epic poems. He's also done some translations (of a HUngarian poet), and he's currently translating some Chinese poetry. You should check him out.
I also write poetry, but I'll leave it up to you as to whether I'm a poet.
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