Too much to do and too much free time. I work better penned up and hemmed in with pressures and deadlines and high anxiety. I've wasted hours in front of the TV! Though tonite I caught Yentl on PBS. geez there was so much potential with that movie, and it did take a few big steps here & there. That was one of the first movies I saw with Barbra Streisand. The very first was On a Clear Day, sort of an astrological, clairvoyant far out theme. I recall a scene with her running through a city park, under a bright horizon with green all around, a long aerial shot that zooms down to her figure as she runs, leaps, calls, sings. She has such joy in her song. Such wonderful lips and noble nose and bleeding eyes.
Fast exit from that to the dark villain who is dead. I hope to human reason and sensibility that none of the major networks airs the actual hanging. I know it will show up on You Tube. So let the prurient ones get their taste of the barbarism there, on their own time and screen. But please please do not air it on national television.
I wrote a ghazal today, slave to the form. I don't care for my writing nowadays. It's lost something and can't regain it. I think of Mary Oliver on days like these, who never went thru an MFA program and writes beautifully. How do I learn craft without blunting the escape, the vigorous outpouring, which if not technically perfect, is (was) at least emotionally fulfilling. Being in love brought on so much of that flow. And just the pure joy of discovery - bright shiny words echoing bright shiny feeling - being in love with poetry.