Cooling board: a long playing poem

Sunday I got to hang out with Mitchell L.H. Douglas for the day. He had a reading early in Harlem, which I had to miss, but he was really close to my place so I met him at the end of his reading and then we walked over to The Perch and hung out for a bit. We opened up some spirits and toasted our new books, and exchanged books.

It's been exciting living since my own book was released. It is even more special that I got to share the debut of my book with Mitchell, because I remember the night I sent it in I e-mailed him (or was it Myspace? ....oh how times change!) and told him about the prize I entered my manuscript in (he read an earlier version of the 'script) and mused: wouldn't it be cool if our babies were published in the same year??

And here we are!

Today I packed his book with me and read it on the way to have coffee with a new poet I met through the publication of my own book. That is probably the most exciting thing -- meeting new people. Mitchell's book is a long poem (a series of smaller, connected poems a la Kevin Young or Martha Collins) about Donny Hathaway. It's an engaging read. I'm always interested in projects and the long poem. I'm sure I'll be visiting the collection over and over.

Other than that...work and work. Sunday I leave for my spring tour!! It's so scary how quickly things approach. Look for details here later.

Bowery Poetry Club

Today/tonight was fabulous and amazing. I cannot say more about it. Well, I will. Just not now. I have to get ready for work. Thank you, NYC. Thank you Mitchell and Red Hen Press!

Here's my set list:

1. Lament
2. Backseat Savior
3. Underneath the Brown
4. To the Black Girl in Charleston, SC, Waving the Confederate Flag
5. The Body as a House
6. All Hallows Eve
7. It is Written
8. Meditation
9. Flame
10. This Sacrifice, This Love

Hopefully pictures soon, too.

In a week, I start my tour with my beloved friend Raina J. Leon!

Exhaustion

I can't remember if I've said it here, but I was talking to a dear, dear friend just the other day. They asked how I was doing, and not being one who simply says "fine" and leaves it at that (I mean, you did ask, didn't you?), I proceeded to tell them how I felt like I'd just had a life implant.

Let me explain: the beginning of the month all I was really expecting to happen in March was to hear from the grad school I applied to, and to hopefully get my book by April 1. I knew I had a reading at the end of the month, but that seemed so far away that it didn't register.

So then March 15 comes around and I get keys to my very own apartment. The same week I hear from NYU and my books come in the mail. When it rains...

Too, I think along with the analogy that I feel like I've received a life transplant, there's always this adjustment phase after the body has received the new organ. There could/can be rejection. There is change to the body because of the trama and trying to fit this new thing in. Not that I expect my body to reject this new life, but I can definitely feel the effects of the "transplant" of the "newness" -- all of this among an already pretty busy life with juggling two jobs.

Tomorrow, though. Tomorrow I officially debut my book to the world. I am not sure about my set list, what I'm going to say, etc etc. Maybe I'll decide on the spot. Maybe I'll wing it. Although that is not my nature....this is new territory -- holding a book up there in front of people, reading from it, saying, this is my work, this is my baby....take it or leave it. Somehow none of the poems feel sufficient, feel enough to be read aloud. And I know a lot of folks coming to support and i'm 100% thankful and grateful...but at the same tme, maybe I'd be more comfortable reading in front of complete strangers. And if I thought that was bad -- in a few weeks when I do my mini book tour with friend Raina J. Leon in PA, NC, and DC....that will be almost all friends and loved ones. Yes. It's pretty crazy to think.

Anyways. I'm going to go read a bit and think a little about possible poems. etc.

Subway reading

Alexandra Cespedes took the picture. She is also the artist.

I thought this picture was interesting to use for this post. This thinking about writing, and sending your words into the world. The yellow behind the book is the subway platform. The silver is a train. Which train? Who knows. I just know that my words are traveling, traveling into the world. It is a very humbling and vulnerable position, to think that my life is in someone's hands. That it can be in anyone's hands. Who knows who has bought the book and will pick it up and read it, and carry it with them in their bags, in their travels, to read while getting from here to there.

In other news, I am taking a writing workshop with Tracy K. Smith. Her workshop is titled: "Writing Across Cultures" -- it was supposed to be a cross-cultural writing workshop with poets from the Asian American Writer's workshop, but it's a nice colleciton of women of color who meet on Friday nights to read and talk about other people's poetry as well as our own. I am resistant a bit, if only because I haven't really been writing lately, but I hope the resistance wall will break open and I can take advantage of this opportunity. This week we're writing ghazals. I have a love/hate relationship with ghazals. I love the idea. I love them when they're done correctly. I don't always love the "write your name into the last couplet" section, as for some people with certain names can alter their name and not be so...obvious.

Okay...I'm trying to do too many things now. I hope your week ahead is fabulous!

Spring in New York

Today I woke up and looked out the window and saw snow. I should tell you that the past two days the most I've worn outside was a jean jacket. And now there's snow?? For real? I'm a bit upset. I'm ready to put winter and my heavy coats behind me. I've been excited to bring out my spring clothes and colors -- my bright pinks and greens and so on. This is not to say that I haven't worn them in winter. In fact, my favorite thing to do is wear spring colors in winter, because I believe people wear colors too dark and depressing.

I'm getting ready to head out into this snow, however. I need to go to the post office. Yes, I'm sending off 4 books into the world. My books. They came yesterday. Well, I almost missed them, but they came. I've been parading them around ever since.

One thing that I was very adamant about after a longish search for artwork for the cover was that I wanted a living artist. I wanted it to be a true-to-life collaboration. For multiple reasons: it would be fun to live and talk and laugh about the book with someone who is equally excited about its publication and because I'd have the chance to reach an audience I never would have touched before. Here's proof:

Alexandra Cespedes (the artist) -- photos up on her blog!

She was the first person I signed the book for. I was a bit nervous. You can tell in the way I was holding my pen. I went on to sell a couple more books that day and made plans for other sales.

Then I met up with a friend for lovely late night tirmasu and coffee (he had a canoli and cappuccino) in celebration of everything. I'm so blessed. And thankful.

You should help me get rid of these 50 copies in my studio. You can order through my website.

Special Delivery

Today I was informed that I will be receiving the advanced-ordered copies of my books in the mail tomorrow. I'm excited about that. I've also been told by other authors that the protocol for receiving one's first box of books is to open with friends/loved ones and a bottle (or few) of spirits. I've got the spirits -- my wine rack is generously stocked for such surprise occasions! -- now, I just need the friends/loved ones willing to come uptown and gather in/on The Perch (yes, capital T and P) with me and help me open it. Being the overly impatient one, I realize the last minute thing is going to be hard to coordinate, and I'm one to open immediately upon receiving....maybe it will be a solo celebration and bigger, better celebrations later.

I've unpacked practically everything except for my books. That is because I don't have real bookshelves yet. Those will be my next purchase.

I still haven't written my poem for this week's workshop. Maybe tomorrow the poem will come. I forgot how it feels to have deadlines that are not self-imposed. I forgot what it means to write under pressure. A lot has been going on in my world this week that, sadly, a poem is the last thing on my mind (although, apparently, updating my blog is not)....well, this is my unwinding. I'm going to settle in my bed in a few and read for a bit this book, "I was told there'd be cake" and then maybe dream a little more about my furnished apartment...and the box of books that will be arriving by the UPS fairy tomorrow. It's like Christmas, really. I'm anxious and can't sleep, but know that the sooner I go to sleep, the sooner tomorrow will come!

100th Post...

Who knew? I've seemed to keep this blog for a good minute. Not that 100 is particularly big, but yeh. Here I am.

I am sitting in a room of boxes and packed up things. Who knew that a tiny box could hold so much? Right now I've counted 5 boxes (though, surely one box should be split into two) of books. Books, books. They are usually the first things I pack when I'm moving. I have to ensure they have a place in my new life -- everything else follows. Is that sad? Perhaps. I'll give away three huge bags of clothes (I had to carry them on the train to the Good Will) before I'll give away books. Something should be said about that, I think.

Today I got my keys and signed my lease. Tomorrow, it's church and then the movers come at 3:30pm to transport this life into my new one. It's quite exciting. Exhilarating, even. After I got my keys, I went to the store to get cleaning materials (one should note: every apartment I've moved into, someone was already living there for a while and had everything I should need. I've only needed to take my own belongings, so buying cleaning materials should be documented, haha) and went back to The Perch to scrub everything down. I now have shiny hardwood floors, a sparkling kitchen and bathroom. Before I moved in, there was apparently some work done in the apartment, and so between that and just settling dust, it needed a good wash down. I was happy to do it (One should also note that I have a reputable hatred for cleaning). It is, after all, my place. I smiled before I closed the door and thought that in a few more days I'll be settled down and in. Somewhat. Then there's the unpacking packed boxes...which is the stage of moving I always hate. Once, I was so sure that I wasn't going to stay in the place that I moved into that I lived out of boxes. I unpacked one box of poetry books and hung up my clothes. Everything else stayed boxed up.

So now I'm down to the final stretch. I have some misc things that I have to find some way to put into a box for easy carrying (though we're not going too far!) and lifting.

Okay, I've taken enough time off....more news and stuff later.

Oh, yesterday was the first day of the 8 week workshop with Tracy K. Smith. More thoughts later.

Master of Fine Arts

Hello world.

I took a gamble and only applied for graduate school to the one place I wanted to go. Everyone who knew this gamble said it was a hard gamble to win. Oh well. I always go for the hard game. It's how I do.

I found out yesterday that I was accepted into NYU's Creative Writing Program.

Don't know that I can handle any more good news right now, but I'll certainly take it.

P.S. Book in 3 weeks!

www.delanadameron.com

Take the A Train

*hums the tune of the piano at the beginning of that song*

I get a lot of lip about not having a TV. From my students. From my friends who come over to visit. Too, I get lip about my music. For someone without a TV the second assumption would be that I *must* have a lot of music. While I have a good bit, I find myself listening to the same songs over and over. And I'm content with that.

I don't know what that has to do with anything.

Yesterday it hit me. The area of Harlem I'm moving to is called Sugar Hill. Everyone always talks about Sugar Hill, and of course there's the famous Sugar Hill Gang (Rapper's Delight)...and so on. There's even now a Sugar Hill Beer, which I have yet to taste. But it hit me what I will be living in, what tradition. There are variations of where the name Sugar Hill came from, but of course the most positive connotation is it was a place for the black middle class and artists during the Harlem Renaissance, referring to the sweet life they had above Harlem proper (namely, 125th Street) My building was built in the late 18, early 1900's so it's very well that some artist, some writer, some singer lived in my very same building!

Here's a list of some folks who lived and wrote and loved here:

Duke Ellington
Ralph Ellison
Zora Neale Hurston
Jacob Lawrence
Nella Larsen
Paul Robeson

Of course the story goes, someone asked Ellington for directions to Harlem, and he simply said, "Take the A Train" -- yep. That's how you can find me :). Writing and living. Maybe, loving.

the perch

So when I took the summer of 2008 off to write, I went to this residency called Soul Mountain. The room I was in was on the second floor of one of the wings, and it overlooked the pond out back. It was a nice view. In the room, the desk was situated right in front of the window that overlooked the pond. It had two windows, but only one over looked the pond, and that's where the desk was. I called the room "the perch"...because that is where I spent a lot of time those days writing and thinking and such.

I just got a new apartment. It's on the fourth (top) floor of a building. It's got four large windows overlooking Harlem. I believe I'm going to call my apartment The Perch. Yep.

I get my keys on the 15!

life comes at you fast

So here's the last month before the book is released. If you've pre-ordered it on Amazon, it should be shipped out no later than April 1. I should -- if everything is going to plan -- get early copies before then. Which is exciting.

I found out this week that the party I was planning on having on May 3 can't happen. That's a bit discouraging, but I believe it, like everything else, will work out.

I'm also in the middle of figuring out another move...I'm staying in New York City, but I have to move...probably also close to the end of this month.

Then....I am also waiting to hear from my grad school about their decision. All big things.

I have some really great, really big (for me, anyways) news...but I'll have to wait a while before I can share it. Keep an [eye] ear out!

What's going on in your world? Tell me good news!