Jacob Sam-La Rose
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    Elsewhere… January 13, 2012

    by Jacob Sam-La Rose on Jan 13, 2012 • 1:32 pm No Comments
    • "Oh, yes,
      let’s bless the imagination. It gives
      us the myths we live by."

      “Oh, yes,
      let’s bless the imagination. It gives
      us the myths we live by.”

      –

      ‘On the Meeting of Garcia Lorca and Hart Crane’— Philip Levine.

      I listened to a lot of Philip Levine and Robert Hass while pulling Breaking Silence together. At one point, I had a playlist of various readings on rotation. Now that Breaking Silence is out, I’m easing back into a writing schedule, and Levine still holds pride of place at the top of my reading stack. Currently (re)reading The Simple Truth, in which the poem the above quote is take from is contained.

    • "As for technique, I was “playing it by ear.” I wanted to make the facts lyrical."
      “As for technique, I was “playing it by ear.” I wanted to make the facts lyrical.”

      – How a Poem Happens: John Drury

    • theweekmagazine:

      The Exclamation Comma. “Just because you’re…

      theweekmagazine:

      The Exclamation Comma. “Just because you’re excited about something doesn’t mean you have to end the sentence.”

      That’s true.

      14 Punctuation Marks You Never Knew Existed

    • Add to 2012 task list: track down a murmuration of starlings….

      Add to 2012 task list: track down a murmuration of starlings. Need to see with my own eyes. 

      Murmuration (by Sophie Windsor Clive)

      (via Max Wallis @ http://wedlockwinter.com/)

    • When I die, bury me so I can return as a tree. It’s a more…

      When I die, bury me so I can return as a tree. It’s a more appealing idea than any other I’ve heard thus far… (via MARTÍN AZÚA)

    • Night TruthsStephen Dunn 
      I’ve known an edginess, come evening,when I haven’t chosen to be alone,…

      Night Truths
      Stephen Dunn 

      I’ve known an edginess, come evening,
      when I haven’t chosen to be alone, but am,
      the necessity of music, the implacable silence
      of the telephone, when my faith is faith
      in the provisional, wild, no consolation
      in it, and deeply, late at night, in the
      peaty, musk-scented, moon-driven dark
      I’ve felt so singular,
      so importantly sorry for myself,
      or so exquisitely stilled, attuned,
      that I knew there were night truths
      unavailable to lovers or the loved,
      thought I might be close to them,
      and have put off sleep because sleep
      is social, intrusive, all the uninvited
      waiting to make their appearances, put it off
      until it came for me, ignorantly, persuasive. 

      (via distantstations:)

    • "Read, read, read. Read everything – trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like…"
      “Read, read, read. Read everything – trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it is good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out the window.”

      – William Faulkner (via creationoftheday)

    Tags: Miscellany
    Previous postElsewhere... January 6, 2012 Next postElsewhere... January 20, 2012

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