First, the updates:
My poem, "Race: 101," has been accepted in an anthology of St. Louis poetry by the Vagabond Press, working title "Crossing the Divide," edited by St. Louis Poet Laureate Michael Castro. I am so grateful to have been asked to contribute. The book will be out in October, 2016..
I have an article on Sylvia Plath's poem, "Morning Song" in The American Journal of Poetry.
I have just (finally) updated my calendar of public tarot events.
I already have some bookings into the fall, so if you're thinking about having me for an Octoberfest event or Halloween party, please make your plans and book me soon.
I had so much fun writing my short essay for The American Journal of Poetry that I'm thinking about blogging quick little summaries of Plath's other poems here, or maybe publishing them elsewhere. I haven't decided yet. It's nice to have the book out, with all its notes and explanatory material as a resource, allowing me the pleasure to riff freely off Plath's work. Want to read into it more deeply? Look it up in Fixed Stars Govern a Life.
Every day I see the magic of Sylvia Plath around me. I am part of a women's Buddhist reading/writing/meditation group, and in my studies last week, came upon this piece by Ernesto Cardenal, which for me is a complete reflection, intentional or not, of Plath's "The Night Dances":
[See it here, pages 130-131]
Cardenal, a Nicaraguan poet, has all of Plath's stripes and spots, lilies and caterpillars, the stars and all the shared patterns. Even Plath's "mathematics" are Cardenal's "multiplicities." I was astounded to see it.
A few nights ago, I was watching The Discovery Channel's special, "The Story of God" (excellent series, by the way; hosted and narrated by Morgan Freeman), and as I learned more of the Tibetan Buddhist sky burials, Sylvia Plath's words from "The Jailor" filled my head:
Drops me from a terrible altitude
Carapace smashed
I spread to the beaks of birds
It is exactly the right description. Along with a group of mourners, the Tibetan priest smashes the body of the deceased to pieces with a hammer. Then, they toss the pieces to the vultures, all the bits of the person to be carried in every direction. It is horror and beauty at the same time, much like Plath's work. I wish I'd gotten that detail into FSGL,but there are always the class plans in which to include it, and possibly a revision down the road.
Is this Sylvia Plath's magic, or Qabalah, which I continue to witness all around me? Maybe it's God. Maybe it's Science. A source of wonder, for me, needs not to be explained--just noticed and revered. These are the "synchronicities" Carl Jung spoke of. The recurring patterns, the qabalistic faces of God, on everything. Whatever God is, it seems that science validates it every day, for me anyway, with its sub-atomic proof of connectedness, the mass and dark energy of the universe, We all boil down to infinite particles,practically nothing and yet everything, specks of something greater. We are all connected, like it or not. For those we don't like, I suppose it's time to take a look at our own dark energy. I'm delighted to be connected to you, Reader. Most especially if you're connected to Sylvia Plath.
