So much filling a room

We moved to a small room in an annex to the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church. Nada Gordon was teaching – I think we were free-writing, getting warmed up.

My marriage was a disaster and I did’t necessarily feel like feeling anything – so I focused on the room and the sounds and the imagery and the energy of nervous writers filling the space. I put a lot of pressure on writing to take the place of music.

I’m guessing this happened in 2004.

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Weight of Whispers

From the vaults. My last year in college, post 9/11 world. Air, breath, beating, reacting.

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Flash (R)evolution

I am moving house. Well, apartment to house. Still renting, but I am spreading out, sort of.

Whenever I move I find stuff – lots of writing especially. I write a lot, but it doesn’t mean I type it, or file it properly, or share it.

The discipline is in the order, not the action for me. I don’t know when I wrote this, I suspect right before moving to Arizona, 2006/2007, while I was leaving my husband and living in a basement in Brooklyn.

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in in in the body

Go in, press in, to get out.

unfuck yourself – photo by Julie Spodeck

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