It’s been a little since my last post so here’s one I created a bit ago but didn’t post. Due to my health I have not been practicing my craft and I know that the idea of stopping can freak some witches out. I just want to remind everyone that a ‘break’ does not deem you unworthy or less of a witch. In fact, acknowledging that you need a break takes responsibility and self growth and allows your spirit and physical self to rest and repair. Blessings and good health to you guys!
- You do not need to be Wiccan.
- You do not need to be religious.
- ‘Witch’ is gender neutral.
- Check grocery stores, flea markets, online stores, and craft stores before metaphysical stores. Great finds but sometimes way cheaper.
- You do not need to practice every single day unless you want to.
- You are not less of a witch if you dont practice every day.
More crocheting adventures!! Tried to think of a universal size comparison. Came up with chapstick. 😂 I’ve seen coins used mostly, but currency isn’t widely known. I thought maybe chapstick was. 😂
Enjoying the last little patch of evening light in our garden as the sun goes down over the rooftops
I am making
M: Variations on Dawn and Dusk came out from Omnidawn last year and was longlisted for the National Book Award. Can you talk a bit about this unusual project?
D: Much of that book is a deeply private project that I had planned to share with just a few friends. The book came out of living in Marfa for a month. I really fell in love with it. I’d always wanted to show it to my wife, and we decided two summers ago that for our anniversary, we would just get a cheap flight to El Paso and rent a car and go out there for a few days. So, we went to the Chinati foundation, and I was struck by the visceral and aesthetic experience of the Robert Irwin installation untitled (dawn to dusk), the particular way of being inside this building. The light coming in from the 18 windows was in this kind of perfect square. And I walked from square to square feeling this fundamental element we never think about, by which we see all that we see. And it felt just extraordinarily unexpected and humbling and generous in its ambition to me, and to note that while I stepped into these squares, my body was the thing that was blocking the light. Every square seemed not like a sequence, but a way of having this opportunity to begin again, but begin more truly in some way. We probably spent two hours there and I went away deeply affected. So, I wrote this poem that would try to mimic not just the overall pattern of the building but those squares of light.
M: Did you work on Arrows, out next month from Tupelo Press, alongside it?
D: Yes, Arrows is a group of poems I’ve been writing since around 2011, just very patiently building and thinking through this evolving sense of what I care most about over this lifetime spent writing poetry. During those years, I also started studying ancient Greek and putting myself into a language that, at some level, has at its roots the very source of whatever consciousness and imagination are. Arrows is really trying to figure out how to open up to these very ancient ways of thinking and to ask the questions again that we’ve always been asking.
M: Apart from ancient Greek, are there any other sort of sources of influence that you feel informed the collection?
D: I think because the ancient brings in the political in unexpected ways that the issues that we have with violence and art’s relationship to violence aren’t tied to the particular cultural moment in a way we might think they are. There’s a section in the book of nine poems titled “Drone” that were really written over the summer of 2015 or 2016, during a lot of the escalation of drone strikes in the Middle East. There are poems that are erasures from the New York Times’ drone strike coverage. I was also reading a book on raising bees, because a dear friend had gotten hives. The larger collection is trying to attend to the way in which nature can give us knowledge about itself.
M: You write beautiful essays on poetry (and always seem to be working on multiple projects!). Are you working on any non-fiction at the moment?
D: I just worked on an essay on Moby Dick for a Melville companion that will be coming out, but it’s hard to write prose at the moment. I am two years into working on a new set of poems I’m feeling deeply engaged by, and I’m working on translations from the ancient Greek.