Noticing the Small Things
+ a collage poem
We’ve done it! We’ve made it through the darkest weeks of winter and to the last week of January (finally). Looking out the window right now, the sun shining and the wind calm, you’d hardly guess that Storm Eowyn swept through the city at the beginning of the weekend.
Last week was a hard week to be an American. To be a person in this globally connected world, really. I did my best not to get too swept up in the chaos of the news cycle, since one of the tactics of the current administration is to overwhelm. Last Monday I went to the cinema and then my Monday writer’s group at a lovely little private library in the West End. I talked with friends and family. I read books and wrote rageful rants in my journal.
On Sunday, I attended a lovely collage poetry workshop run by Nazaret Ranea. That morning, I had woken up from a dream about someone I used to dance with, and my heart was aching a little. Even in the dream, we had not seen each other for a long time, and spent most of our conversation catching up, reacquainting ourselves. At the workshop, we were given the prompt to make a collage poem about someone we love. It felt fortuitous. Here’s the poem I pasted together:
When I scanned the page, the colours changed, which I kind of really like. Originally, the poem was on green paper and the cut out pieces had that sort of greyish beige background that newspaper has, except for the last few words, which were on a yellowish-green background. I like the white/pink/yellow colour scheme that the scan resulted in.
Then in the evening, I walked over to Typewronger Books for their open mic. It was a mix of poetry, fiction, comedy, and music, and there was even a sea-shanty sing-a-long at the beginning; I feel it’s an important fact about myself to share that I absolutely adore every type of music featuring the accordion, harmonica, organ, bagpipes, etc. There’s just something about that kind of sound that lights up something inside my heart.
The sun is shining today and I feel like a bit of the scary fog of last week has lifted. Not all of it, but some. Enough to focus, enough to write. Everything feels more manageable when the sun is out. Right now, I have a fresh pot of tea on my desk and my “on a wednesday in a café” playlist going.
I tallied up my drafts a few days ago, and I currently have 32 poems to consider for my dissertation collection. Not all 32 will make the cut, probably, but I feel like I’m in a good spot, nearly six months out from the deadline (yikes). There’s still a few poems I need to get on paper in first-draft-form. I have time.
This week, I want to share a poem by Leila Chatti, “Tea,” published by The Missouri Review. This was the first poem of Chatti’s I’d come across a few years ago, and it’s made me want to read much more of her work. This poem is a bit of a reminder that noticing the small things, the daily things, such as drinking tea, really helps stave off the nothingness of depression. It feels timely.
What I’m Reading: I’m listening to all four Hunger Games books on audiobook this month and next, currently on Catching Fire. Also The Best American Poetry 2024, and slowly (savouring) rereading In Memoriam by Alice Winn
What I’m Listening to: I was recently reminded of how great Maya Hawke’s first album is, so MOSS by Maya Hawke; also Surrender by Maggie Rogers and some of my favourite Sleep Walking Animals songs (“Aengus’ Fool,” “Love You A Little Less,” “Taste Of It”)
What I’m Watching: I was disappointed by Babygirl (2024)
What I’m Loving: Timothée Chalamet singing Bob Dylan songs on SNL, having access to magazines on Libby, red scarves