There’s so much going on today. Kafka’s America, for instance. Jonathan’s panel at the Pen conference in New York. And something else. So much else. Lately I’ve been bumping up a little against Susan Sontag’s diary. I was wondering how a blog is different from a diary. Susan didn’t get paid to write hers, and she had to die first before we could read it.
The pure whiteness up here. We are organizing a project back in New York called The Collection of Silence. To see what we’ve got if we don’t use sound. Poets I mean. So twenty five of us are not reading at The Hispanic Society on June 30 at 7PM. I have many reasons for doing this because silence means so many different things to everyone. So that's good for a public event. But definitely part of of my reason for doing this is that I had worked on an opera a few years ago – wrote the libretto, wanted to direct it but didn’t. I think I was afraid. But I do feel completely competent to direct a project of silence. I am kind of dedicated to the doable. It’s a huge part of what I mean when I say poetry.
And I bet every poet would agree that a poem begins in silence though they would probably disagree once it begins: the poem, I mean. But it happens throughout. In every poem I believe. Silence is shaping the thing. I was in a meeting on Wednesday at the Dia office planning the big silence event. We should have a blog said Barbara. Oh I do have a blog I thought. O Harriet. And so she begins….
Eileen Myles was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and was educated at the University of Massachusetts...
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