(no subject)
In 2 days the zine anthology (aka book of my writing from the past 8 years, which happened to be released periodically in zine form) will be available for purchase. It kind of blows my mind- I never thought that I would have a 270 page "art book" to my credit. And when I flip through the beautiful proof that came to me in the mail during my Californian sojourn, that is exactly how it seems- like a book of art. The layout and design were crafted and intentional, just as much as the words. I'm curious to see how it all goes over. Some of my older issues were, I thought, lost to time in a good way. No one would have to read my bad poetry from 2004 anymore. but now its in print, in a collection, and I have a book with a spine, and despite the potentially nervous feelings, its pretty goddamn amazing to think that so many feelings and much effort and so many nights at my typewriter added into up and piled onto itself and now its something bigger and harder to erase. So that's good. The book being released has given me this weird freedom. It's not like I've written the great American novel, but its something that cannot just be recycled so easily or thrown away. It has a spine, so it will stand up and be brave.
I'm back in Olympia again, its funny how I cannot seem to shake it, but I have this current feeling of religious clarity in that I have no reasons left to return. The month of august is a bizarre in between time during which I had no where else to be. I've graduated from Evergreen, I'm about to return for 12 months to England. My sister is moving away, my friends who still live in Oly are quite disillusioned. It is what it is, probably sparkly and inspiring for so many people, but for me, its just a stopover. The place that used to light my fire has just become somewhere to kill some time. I think that its all part of me, every little corner I go past, and I look forward to the day when its a nice nostalgia. When I can come back after 10 years and remark upon how much or how little it has changed. Most people that I knew from here have moved on. They live in Portland or Oakland or New York, and I am so happy for them. I'm ready to try and sew those same roots in London. Robbie says all the time that he doesn't want to come back from London. He's convinced we can make a life there- and I've been so skeptical. But being back in Olympia for a few days makes me realize- I need an ambitious home. Maybe I need it more than I had realized. And London is hard, but its possible.
I'm back in Olympia again, its funny how I cannot seem to shake it, but I have this current feeling of religious clarity in that I have no reasons left to return. The month of august is a bizarre in between time during which I had no where else to be. I've graduated from Evergreen, I'm about to return for 12 months to England. My sister is moving away, my friends who still live in Oly are quite disillusioned. It is what it is, probably sparkly and inspiring for so many people, but for me, its just a stopover. The place that used to light my fire has just become somewhere to kill some time. I think that its all part of me, every little corner I go past, and I look forward to the day when its a nice nostalgia. When I can come back after 10 years and remark upon how much or how little it has changed. Most people that I knew from here have moved on. They live in Portland or Oakland or New York, and I am so happy for them. I'm ready to try and sew those same roots in London. Robbie says all the time that he doesn't want to come back from London. He's convinced we can make a life there- and I've been so skeptical. But being back in Olympia for a few days makes me realize- I need an ambitious home. Maybe I need it more than I had realized. And London is hard, but its possible.