Yesterday was the 7th anniversary of this blog. I try to make a post on that day every year, but as of late I've been pretty involved with life, introspection, my girlfriend, etc. Still avoiding work like I always have been, but overall I feel like I've been improving a lot. I got straight A's for the first time in recent memory, and I hope to do very well again this semester. A lot of stuff is still up in the air: Will I get an apartment next year? Where will I live during the summer? Will I get an internship? Am I on track to graduate on time?
I'm trying to deal with this kind of stuff more and worry about it less.
A few interesting things have been happening here at Chapman. Salman Rushide came to speak; he was enlightening, witty, and entertaining. He signed my copy of Haroun and The Sea of Stories, the same copy I received in middle school. It has been one of my favorite stories since, although I have only read it twice.
Today, I went to a poetry reading by William Stobb to promote his new book of poetry, Nervous Systems. I went on a whim with the intention to leave if it "wasn't any good", but I found his writing very interesting. His language, especially the way he read it, possessed a kind of floating quality that's difficult to describe. He generously gave away some copies of his book at the end but I paid for mine on principle and he was kind enough to sign it. The crowd was pretty thin (pretty average for Chapman actually) but I enjoyed it a lot and wanted to plug his book here.
One of the things that I brought up during the Q&A session afterward was the small audience of people who enjoy poetry, and I think we both have similar feelings about it. I don't usually write for an audience, I write to get ideas out of my head and play with them a bit. I don't know all of my reasons for publishing them here, but I figure that if someone happens upon them and enjoys reading them, they have done more good than if they had been sitting around my hard drive or notebook.
That line of thinking is the main reason this blog still exists. It's been here for me when I've needed it, and occasionally has been entertaining or useful to others. By that notion, it has been faithfully serving its purpose for seven years.
I'm trying to deal with this kind of stuff more and worry about it less.
A few interesting things have been happening here at Chapman. Salman Rushide came to speak; he was enlightening, witty, and entertaining. He signed my copy of Haroun and The Sea of Stories, the same copy I received in middle school. It has been one of my favorite stories since, although I have only read it twice.
Today, I went to a poetry reading by William Stobb to promote his new book of poetry, Nervous Systems. I went on a whim with the intention to leave if it "wasn't any good", but I found his writing very interesting. His language, especially the way he read it, possessed a kind of floating quality that's difficult to describe. He generously gave away some copies of his book at the end but I paid for mine on principle and he was kind enough to sign it. The crowd was pretty thin (pretty average for Chapman actually) but I enjoyed it a lot and wanted to plug his book here.
One of the things that I brought up during the Q&A session afterward was the small audience of people who enjoy poetry, and I think we both have similar feelings about it. I don't usually write for an audience, I write to get ideas out of my head and play with them a bit. I don't know all of my reasons for publishing them here, but I figure that if someone happens upon them and enjoys reading them, they have done more good than if they had been sitting around my hard drive or notebook.
That line of thinking is the main reason this blog still exists. It's been here for me when I've needed it, and occasionally has been entertaining or useful to others. By that notion, it has been faithfully serving its purpose for seven years.
Labels: blogging, blogiversary, coherence, life, optimism, poetry
posted by Eliot at 11:11 PM
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