Happy Mother’s Day! (For some reason my camera has gone missing and the credit for these pictures go to my daughter, Callan).

…or a hollyhock, a daisy, a dandelion, a hop, or a delephinium. All of this is irrelevant, and so very relevant. If you’ve been following along to MayDay, you’ll know by now that I’ve been somewhat fixated on flower poems. I found this book review interesting in the light of my recent poetry addiction. Quite frankly, I still think there’s a lot they can’t explain because I’m not a butterfly either–although I flutter around quite well most days. (It must be the hair–remnants of a monarch maybe).

…for a quiz. I’m not so sure about this one. A literary Mood-Matcher. When I finished the quiz, I was told I was having an existential crisis. I already knew that, why else would I take the freakin’ quiz!

…I’m going to see Susan Andrews Grace and Patrick Friesen launch their new books. Imagine, more books!

…is where the computer is. I must confess that after being internet deprived for nearly three full days (somehow that sounds pathetic), I didn’t really miss reading the masses of email each day, nor did I miss the internet, but that I did miss reading the poems and responding to MayDay. I was at Manitou Springs Resort strategically planning SWG methodology for upcoming strategy, for two and half wonderful mosquito filled days. I had the greatest and most stimulating view of the lake from my fourth floor room. It was good for two poems–what little time I had to write was in the early morning, although fortunately, my room faced east and the sun rose on the poems (that sounds more intense than it was).

The drive was interesting–lots of broken pavement–more than just a pothole here and there, I must add–and the birds for some reason had developed a new and strange art of buzzing the front of the car–two ducks swooped the hood, I nearly hit (this close) a red-winged black-bird, and a flock of black-birds (didn’t quite make them out) swooped the entire car on the way home. O. D. D.

Manitou is really overlooked as a unique resort and offers an interesting experience of dead-sea like waters, small hills, creative energy and shopping. (I didn’t buy a skirt, but found a great top for an ok price–it will go with a few skirts I already own). And, for something completely different, we ate cake.

…now has her own web page. Check out kimmy beach‘s new home on the net. And I’ll be sporadic until Monday as I must strategically plan writing stuff, and bake Brenda a cake (I’ve been known to actually break out the dishes/pans and bake upon occasion, although these are few and far between, as, most conveniently I must add, there are stores that do that for people).

…are now along the sidebar (every time I write that word I’m reminded of salad bar and my stomach lurches slightly in anticipation). My friend Kris–a photographer/writer studying in Montreal did this one. I attended Sage Hill one summer along with Oana Avasilichioaei, but haven’t had a chance to read her new book yet.

…resonate in criticism. “fractal criticism is simply concerned with self similarity of themes”. Here is an interesting line: “In poetry we notice that a particular phrase or line appears particularly striking, and it may be that, just as a tuning fork feeds on the vibrations at its characteristic frequency, the particular phrase or line draws its power from its surroundings”. Mathematical poetry seems to be everywhere I look these days. I’m not sure if it all adds up.