New Blog Layout, New Perspectives

My last blog post was over two years ago. In the time it has taken me to write two blogs, so many events have happened that have changed the course of history. We all know about those, so I will not recount them here. Instead, here are some thoughts on the last two years from the lens of poetry and books. (I tried to think of a way to say that sentence in a more poetic way, but I must admit my blogging is a bit rusty.)

2020

• Books read: 139
• Publications: 12

2021

• Books read: 260
• Publications: 1

2020 was a Year™. A year that drained me, as it did so many of us. While I managed to submit my poetry to some journals, it was not as much as the year before, and I found myself defining myself as a poet in terms of quantity and production, something that I wouldn’t wish on any writer. I started comparing my accomplishments to years before, rather than appreciating them for what they were. At the start of 2020 I purchased a planner and saved Sundays for Starbucks afternoons with another poet-friend, where the two of us would write and plan ahead which journals we would submit to and when. I was full of hope for the new decade. Then the pandemic cancelled everything, including a space-themed event I was to read a poem for as my former city’s Poet Laureate. There were no more Starbucks Sundays. I moved to a new city and thus had to step down from being Poet Laureate (I will always treasure that adventure). I found it harder to write and harder still to put my work back out there.

2021 was the year I focused more on reading than writing. Books have always been an escape for me, and last year I wanted to devour every book, ebook, and audiobook that crossed my path. I started listening to the podcast Reading Glasses which has since become a small obsession. I put myself on a book buying ban so I could make a dent in the books I owned – and yet found myself gravitating to library books! The library became my haven, and the library’s Book Mobile that comes to my neighborhood every week restarted its route that summer. I took part in the library’s adult summer reading program which reconnected me to the fun I had with those programs as a child.

It is now 2022, and I’ve started to pick up the pen again. I went through the Notes app on my iPhone, found old poems from the past year that I never wrote down, and finally penned them in a journal that reads “Let the adventure begin” – a journal I had started at the beginning of 2021 but put down not too long after. I think at the time, I wasn’t really ready for an adventure; everything seemed so weighted down, and I didn’t feel like myself. I now feel the opposite – I’m restless and ready for the words again. I’ve also looked for inspiration in other art forms – painting, photography, pottery, origami. I feel more like an artist now than ever before.

Things I’ve learned in the past two years:

• Celebrate every achievement, even if it seems “smaller” than previous achievements.
• Even though the concept of “inspiration” may come across to some as a sign of a pretentious poet who pens purple prose, I’ve recognized it’s value – every poem is a work of art – it is made of the work that goes into the piece, but also the art that comes from inspiration. Without inspiration, there is no art. There is no poem. I hadn’t written much because I didn’t have much inspiration, and that’s okay. I’ve learned that I expect too much of myself.
• Give yourself some grace; you don’t have to be productive 100% of the time to be valuable.
• Sometimes you need a break from art to get back into it.
• Your worth is more than the number of poems written or books read.
• I’m still a poet even though I don’t write or submit to a journal every day.

And now I’ve picked up this blog again. I have no plan on where this blog will go. All I know is I want it to be a positive focus – there is too much negativity in the world and I don’t want to add to it. I will definitely continue to write about writing. I will definitely continue to write about reading. Who knows where 2022 will take all of us. All I can do is look at the journal and reflect on the words it has on the cover and in the once-blank pages. Let the adventure begin. Will you join me?