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| Last Word Books, Olympia, WA |
On March 23rd, I'm driving to Olympia to spend the evening with Ann Tweedy in a bookstore. And this time, we will meet having already met, and I'm looking forward to these new terms.
Last summer, I was lucky to meet Ann Tweedy when we read at the Hugo House in Seattle. When she began reading her poetry, I experienced the jarring/intensity/yes that happens when art says, yes, here I am for you, between bodies. That disarming feeling when someone's speaking the truth about what has been made silent or turned into silences. About the body, about motherhood in terms of bodies, about feelings I had but forgotten because very little in the surrounding world has made those feelings recognizable as real or worth thinking about.
Ann read this poem, "Flower Stalk," which begins this way:
At a poetry workshop in the Sierras, a bunch of us gather for lunch
after the morning session. The workshop leader
tells us about the young niece he adores, says he's jealous
of children who pee their pants from laughing.
I look around and guess—no one else at the small table has given birth—
and I almost say once you have a baby, there's much more opportunity
to pee one's pants, laughing or coughing, you name it.
But there's shame in it, how the body becomes compromised,
makes its small refusals. Almost mournful
that you never understood its near perfection until then.
And it was at But there's shame in it, that I heard her speaking from a place I've been and felt lonely/isolated within. But that, of being amid a group to which I don't belong but pass within, and witnessing the the moment the group identifies with itself but I don't, and we depart, though not in body, in our ways of moving through the world . . .
I'd quote the whole poem, but please travel to it yourself; the last part of the poem breathes so hard through my memory and experiences that I don't want to articulate that. Continue reading Flower Stalk by Ann Tweedy.
In sum, I so look forward to being with Ann Tweedy again, amid words and shelves of words and people who read words. I believe that we'll each be reading a bit, from our books and new works, but also moving into conversation with each other and the audience in a way that allows some examination of this world. Please join us.
Friday, March 23, 2018
111 Cherry Street NE, Olympia, WA
7 PM
Free and open to the public
More on Ann Tweedy (click to travel there):
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| Ann Tweedy |
