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Hintd at? O wow!

January 18, 2014

I have stuff that needs to be thought through, but I can’t find a door leading inside. Maybe Havi’s prompt [“what do I want?” repeatedly asked, and answered] will work.

What do I want?

A page of my 2014 Sketchbook Project contains words, motifs, ideas, for what I originally thought would be one poem, but the list so quickly snowballed (n = 44 items) that I believe I need to write a series of poems. I yearn to write these poems but . . . this series will take me to treacherous and perilous places.

I cannot immerse myself in where I need to go / what I need to do, and then switch gears to resume a ‘normal’ evening / weekend with Spouse. I need continuity with myself, my personal biorhythms, and as little social contact as possible. Solitude would be ideal.

A place I’ve never been to would also be good. In a setting of natural beauty — one that I could ramble around. New environments and new neighbors (in this sense, nonhumans) spark new ideas. I think I also need a different setting to be a container for whatever I unearth, so that I’m not constantly tripping over reminders as I walk around our apartment. (My memories tend to have a spatial component, such that I clearly remember the physical environment/my surroundings when I remembered, was reminded of, or thought about something significant.)


Trying to figure out how to write about the food problem has completely derailed this post. I’ve been revising and rewriting this one paragraph for almost an hour, dammit. I don’t enjoy having to think about food constantly, and doing so saps energy that I could be using for creativity.

A bunch of people I sat with during meals at Ghost Ranch complained about the food, but that was the first week . . . maybe in my entire life . . . that I never had to think about food. I showed up for meals, the food was there, it was tasty and filling, I ate it — the rest of the time, I was free to do whatever I wanted to do. Which, for once, did not involve worrying about what I might be eating next.

And I had good-brain-energy the whole time! I didn’t crave chocolate, or sweets! I literally never thought about food when I wasn’t at the table eating. It was . . . amazing.


What do I want?

I want to be accepted at a writer’s residency that does not have fees, and provides meals.

If references are required, I want to find someone(s) who would recommend me.


What do I want?

I want to write better poetry.


What do I want?

I want to explore my complex gender identity without being paralyzed by fear that the few people who do talk to me now will stop talking to me.  (This fear is not without foundation. I’ve “come out” to 3 family members. None of them responded directly. I received an oblique/confusing response very recently that was certainly not supportive.) I also fear I’ll get beaten up. Or that the world will somehow end.


What do I want?

I want people to call me by the name I am now going by.


What do I want?

I want to go to Andalucía. Malta. Mallorca. Portugal.


What do I want?

I want to fold paper. I want to fold fabric. What can I learn from the one to use with the other? Is it possible to create baffles like I can envision in my mind? Can they be used the way I want?


What do I want?

I want to play around with creating garments to be worn by people of my gender. Garments that I myself want to wear. And then I want to wear them, in public.

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