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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
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Enga mellom Fjella  Sentinel Marked as if you own me I bow before the Bitterroots and just like you my rocky soil, my withered grass lays prey to the empty sky. © Kåre Enga 2007 "Sentinel"   Reader's Choice of Poems: "Sentinel" "Where grows the compost heap" "Tales told over scones and hot tea" "I, Katrina" "Plain cover jacket" Reader's Choice of blog entries from my old blog "L'aura del Campo" :"Death of Jeannie New Moon" "Doing and don'ting. A scene in 2nd person." "Even in chaos ... More hockey poems." "A Thanksgiving Dinner poem and the WDC Zoo" "Wheat penny. Gave in, started a forum." FACES     PLACES            Kåre  Enga~ until everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go. ~ Elizabeth Bishop The Fish |
| ...almost missed lunch! Yo! Pork and rice and mushroom gravy today. Very nice. After fighting with the computer I need to go home and continue the Battle of the Bugs and Clutter. And... I have to somehow find a plot for "Wound". I write a scene every day but it's not going anywhere yet. I'm reading one of Niven's "Ringworld" novels. Getting interesting. Maybe if I do some chores I can soak in the tub and read. No other news. No other plans. In spite of lovely weather. I'm so boring at times. But I do need to be careful as I'm also stressed out... |
| ...newspaper ...pink at the game. ME: UM won its game to the delight of waves of pink and maroon over blue jeans. It was breast cancer awareness day. Even the Missoulian was printed on pink paper. Me? Okay, but not so pink. Feel like I'm getting nowhere... even though that's not true. Journal, Wound (my NaNoWriMo effort this year), market... Must wander home now and clean and unclutter. It's been a battle. I bought a bookcase yesterday and quickly filled it. Next? Consolidating boxes by content and throwing out as much as I dare. This is the crux of the struggle. MUST THROW THINGS OUT! Maybe I'll cook up those French garlic sausages I bought first... |
me. A bit better today in spite of rough night. A shower helped when I couldn't sleep. Thought about soaking in the tub. Submitting, writing, editing, chores. If I get back to chores I'll be better off in the long run. Small progress yesterday. So easily overwhelmed... This clogs my daily life and my ability to sleep. Avoidance just kicks it down the road. Same for everything else. Today the day isn't beckoning me forth like yesterday. I was able to ignore those Sirens and got something done. Writing, editing, submitting. Yesterday was focused on submitting. First time in a long time. If I could just keep focused on that... |
| ...as flimsy as the wisps of silky clouds. ME: I'm not well emotionally. I go into details elsewhere. Here? Just say that life goes on on this beautiful autumn day. Warm, sunny and leaves changing. The maples across the river are red, the locusts still golden. Lovely time of year. I need to spend the day inside taking care of unattended chores. If I do what needs to be done I may have better news tomorrow. Don't hold your breath. In the snews: We're looking forward to our first case of Ebola here as our hospital is one of four in the country capable of handling diseases of this sort. Dallas was not. Marriage comes to Idaho and Alaska but not yet to Montana. Soon. Politics... people still think that everything revolves around money or fear. Money... as in... never got enough so let's let the wealthy hoard it all... Fear... as in... we must be fearful of everything or we have nothing to complain about. Enter Ebola and Marriage... Yes, Ebola is serious; the Plague was serious. However, guns and automobiles kill thousands every year. Influenza has the potential to kill thousands this winter. Don't get me started on poverty! And Marriage? That's serious too. But denying people civil recognition of their relationship doesn't make the U.S. a more moral nation. Huckabee of Arkansas take note. My fears? Personal. Those that trigger my traumas are brutal. Neither Ebola nor your marital status frighten me. |
| an on-line place to submit ...apparently I already have an account! When I sent work to "Whitefish" three years ago I opened one. Hmm... so I updated it. Me: Some progress today. Not much. Photos from Lisbon on-line. Re-opened my Submittable account. This blog... Friday: book festival. Loved Dave Caserio's presentation. Wrote a poem for Melissa Mylchreest while she read. Saturday: more festival. Sat and chatted with Emily Withnall from "Camas". I wrote her a poem, "Emerald Aurora". Evening performance in the Wilma was wonderful. Sunday: went to Georgina Snow's house for reading/signing of Nona Burroughs Babcock's just published novel. Went to Joyce's for dinner. Got my "Nick fix" at The Break afterwards. So... books to read, writing to edit, photos to edit, poems to submit... Still don't have the energy to match what I need to do. At least the weather is nice today. After rain and cold... sun and some warmth. 52,253 |
| ...a long long time. Me: So worn out. Happened last year at this time too... or was that the last two years? The Montana Festival of the Book is about to begin and I need to be focused and twinkle-toed to get to events. And I have no energy. Like today... just want to take a nap. Weather is lovely. Color-change under blue skies. Brilliant. And me? Not so bright. I did manage to apologize to a friend, but he didn't know why I was apologizing so I let it go. And my sister called (she never calls) to tell me our mother was in hospital (medication screw-up). I talked to a cousin and managed to call my aunt without her sensing something was wrong with her sister (gold star for that; there'll be time to call and explain this weekend). All of this drained me. Oh, I did get to a couple gatherings this week. Not today. I may not even go this evening when my writing group gathers... and I should. No physical energy and emotionally I'm whack. And I'm yawning... |
| ...jam it down that gap rapidly and often. Until it hurts. me. So I made an ass out of myself last night. I'll write about that elsewhere... But it does beg the question: 1. How do we forgive ourselves when we realize we were wrong? I can only speak for us HSPs. Being Super Sensitive means we kick ourselves about mistakes long after others have forgotten the moment. Maybe if I say... "I don't hate myself; I only hate myself when I _____." I'm coping by focusing on other things. Like coffee! Or following the football game (UMontana barely won 18-15 in North Dakota on the last play). Talking with friends helps as long as I keep it brief. No one needs my s***; they have their own. So tonight I'll focus on my writing or editing photos or something. Tomorrow may be a road trip.  If I don't mess it up. |
| ...as in a title for a series of stories to write this November? Yo: My mind always wanders down paths that others don't dare (mostly because they aren't THAT stupid...). My stories that comprise "Blood of the Garlic" are about vampires... the real deal not those sparkly wannabes or fangs-dripping-blood stereotype. Mine merely have a blood condition that makes them sensitive to heat, allergic to silver and with thin blood wary of blood-thinners... like garlic. Just normal folks who are different. So, I make my characters real by thinking of them as real. If this is conveyed to my readers? Then they are real. So how about zombies? How are they real too? Are they merely super sensitive types, easily wounded, with a defensive mechanism called "numbness". Do they spread this malaise by human contact? A sadness of unhealing wounds that fester... Sounds grim to me. My vampires are so vampy in comparison! Still, I personally have been deeply wounded with bruises that don't show even though they haven't healed. I may be onto a theme for NaNoWriMo... |
| ...as in? ME: I think too much at times. The brain won't shut off! Other times when I'm emotional, tired, depressed... I wonder how I turn it on. Especially when I'm having a panic attack. Although thinking is a good thing it can be over-rated. There are times when it must be balanced with just "being" or "feeling". But "feeling" without thinking has its own traps. I like to think I am well-informed when I share an opinion. But I'm often proven wrong! There is so much to learn... Still what is the "opposite of thinking"? I don't know. The phrase was recently used to describe what Michelle Bachman (MN) has been saying. Maybe it's just "opening one's mouth before thinking"? In any case. I'm sure we can all plead guilty. |
| ...as in hush, quiet, still. meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee: I like silence. The sounds of Nature soothe but harsh human noises jangle my nerves. I prefer natural music to that which is man-made. Many times I sit in silence at home. The noises of the city are mercifully hushed and distant. I like it that way. When I want conversation or have a need to be with people I can easily find folks to be with. Like last night: went to lecture on poetry by a local poet, went to comedy act by traveling Native American group. That was enough. As a bonus I chatted with a young man from Bozeman who is a student of exercise science at UM. He also has Swedish roots and visited there this August. Wonderful chat. At home after a long walk in the damp? Silence. I leave the music and radio off. I have a TV for VHS tapes but didn't turn it on. I have no internet at home. Silence. It can be a good thing. |
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