Sometimes, though I do love where I live, I start feeling trapped by the constraints of small town life. I have to remind myself that with its burgeoning population of over 15,000, this is not actually a small town. In fact, it's a city—it just doesn't feel like one compared to my hometown. I keep reminding myself I wanted this, I wanted to escape the frantic pace of Bellevue, to settle into a place where I can breathe freely and not feel like I have to dress to the nines just to go grocery shopping.
Trying to start a poetry group here is one of those things (besides stove shopping) that's had me wishing I lived in a bigger town. Wishing for the luxury of a bigger pool of poets and fellow artists to draw on in my search. So far, I've recruited just one other poet to my group. I can't complain; the lack of quantity is more than compensated for by this person's insights and skills. Just the same, I'm very envious of the tight-knit and thriving poetry community in Yakima that I bask in every time I go to one of the open-mic nights down there.
So I was really, really excited when I got a call this afternoon inviting me to a poetry reading this coming Wednesday at Bertine's, a local coffeehouse. Another local poet had read my poem in Boston Literary Magazine, noticed I was from the same town, and called to invite me to read some of my poems. A chance to network with other local poets, to hear their work and share mine, to contribute to helping poetry thrive in my community? Cool.
4 comments:
So, I probably shouldn't tell you about the fondue party Wendy threw last night, huh? Or the 22 kids at music time this morning. That might just set you over the edge, wouldn't it?
;-D
It would, if I didn't feel so neutral about fondue and my kids getting overstimulated by crowds. But it's the thought that counts, eh, Dyann? ;)
Poem, sweet poem.
sounds like you have the beginnings of the makings of a poetry community... good luck!
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