…is awaiting; however, this was more fun.

…of cleaning–my house is desperately calling to me through the dust moles and through the piles upon piles of books awaiting the sorting–I’m on the computer in search of poetry. I was at the bookstore today (imagine!) and picked myself up the Portable Hannah Arendt (I think it’s the one on the list for the philosophy class in the fall), but I spied a book by British writer Mark Haddon which I really wanted because (I’m not happy with confessing this) I liked the cover. What a cool cover! Even though there were no french flaps, they weren’t needed. Instead it had one of those circular spinning wheels with pictures to view in cut-outs (I’m sure there must be a name for it, but for the life if me I have no idea what it is). Haddon has his own web page. Also, for those who are like me and love to listen to their favourite poetry John Mackenzie has delightfully shared a few poems in his wonderful voice over the past few days, and my fingers stumbled over this page.

…looking up some small things in studying today, I came across an interesting read on the movie L’Avventura.

…Darwinism. What next, literary calculus? Or perhaps literary kinesiology? I think any lens is possible when reading literature. We read into text and language our own idea/bias. I agree with Einstein that a “theory defines what we can see”, but perhaps, more precisely, we define what theories we see.

…most of the day with Margaret Atwood. What fun. What I’m wondering today is why, oh why, did/do the Margarets, both Atwood, and Laurence, feel they must leave no stone unturned within their fiction? Why do they not leave something to dangle? After rereading The Handmaid’s Tale for the umpteenth time, I’m reminded so much how every word must lead somewhere, instead of nowhere. Why is that? Is there a rule about this? Is this marketing or what readers really want? This reminds me of DeLillo, and The Body Artist. How strange and cativating that small novel was/is to me as a reader. So like real life; there is so much, and there is nothing.

…today arrived this lovely book. A beautiful cover. Thanks Rhona!

…Barry Dempster events that Ariel needs to attend , I thought I would post my one and only picture of Barry Dempster. He is accompanied by my friend Carla Hartsfield. Carla is a teacher, musician, and poet. She lives in Toronto. Barry Dempster edited her third book of poetry: Your Last Day on Earth.

…to the birds, robins mostly, wind up the day with a song, and teenagers, wind up their day with a song, and the competition is fierce. I’m happy to be stuck in the basement working away. Well, happy is not the right word, but I suppose I can be grateful that at least the teenagers will still be asleep at 5am when the robins begin chirping. Tonight with the blanket of spring warmth layering our city, the windows are open and their voices drown the chatter of my fingers on the keys.

I’ve been practicing with some literary quizzes in case I ever get a chance to play Holly and kimmy in Trivial Pursuit –The Book Lover’s Edition. It’s not doing me much good. There are some tough questions in both the game and the quiz. Perhaps the thing to do is to read. Ah, I’ll begin with Arrogance by Joanna Scott.

…to find out that two of my favourite writers will be reading at Moose Jaw festival of words. These two will be none other than Brenda Schmidt and Jeanette Lynes and another of my favourite writers, Daniel Scott Tysdal will be launching his first book of poetry. There are more writers attending this gala event, but you’ll have to experience to believe!

…of classes (well, I suppose that’s a lie, as I go only on Monday and Tuesday), and then it’s a gruelling week of finals (well, ok, that may be a lie as well, as in one class we’ll be getting a list of final questions in advance, and they’re not memory, but essay questions for all of the finals–although that can be tiring), but then, it’s off with the old, and on with the new. I’ve signed up for 4 fall classes, because I could: the philosophy of Hannah Arendt, the British boys (modern poetry– Eliot, Yeats, Hardy, Hopkins, and Auden), more creative writing–a genred honours course in which I can choose the genre, and the Greek and Roman epic class. One last load.