Class note

Great presentations by my students, yesterday and today, on composting in pop culture. Delighted how they’ve brought the mind of compost to J Dilla’s sampling technique, Karen Dalton’s bluesy borrowings, the distractive matrix of Twitter, the genre transmissions of Lindsey Stirling. I’ll hope to post some of their work here before we’re done together.


Reading the post of someone kind enough to follow this blog. Someone struggling and I want to say, you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, I know you will. Lean into anything and anyone that brings you ease. Not numbness — real true wakeful living ease. It’s there for you, it’s there, already in you.

And my students, one or another breaks my heart sometimes, how hurting they are sometimes. Want to hug them but can’t (not my place). Want to heal them but can’t (not mine to do).

Can’t do much but say, I’ve been there, or somewhere like there, consider me proof it can be got through, if that helps. Being a person is hard. That’s what I got for wisdom at 45 years. Being a person is just plain hard.

First day of class

First day of class tomorrow, a bit of butterflies now, as I always have.

Want to remember my classes go best when I don’t plan too much. Have something in mind about tearing pages and discerning poems in the strips we’ve made — as prep for the fragments we have of Sappho, many recovered from the mummies her poems were recycled to bear on in the afterworld.

Have a couple of books on hand of W.C. Williams, already spine-split and spilling their pages. They should make good material.

Am struck by — a feeling the books are sacrosanct! shouldn’t be torn with! Interesting.