Baltimore Book Festival

On Friday, I joined some of the other MSAC Individual Artist Poetry winners at the Creative Cafe tent to read for 10 minutes. I included two new pieces from this semester's experimental poetry workshop (the undisputed highlight of my time in the program to date), and felt quite good about my time at the lectern. I ended up reading just a bit earlier than my allotted time slot, so a couple of friends missed my performance, including Mr. Close Encounters, who ambled up right when I should have gone on.

No matter, C and I had a lovely (albeit quick) talk with him before the two of us went back to our apartment for an onset fall meal of slow-cooked chili and cornbread. Catchka and my youngest sister joined us. Mr. CE had other plans and ambled off to those, presumably.

Saturday, my big day to explore with Caryl while Crystal got in some overtime hours at the office, was productive. We got there just as the festival was getting started for the day, and I immediately bought two t-shirts and some artisanal coffee--Honduran, in this case, from Bluebird Artisanal Coffee.

Wine and a robust all-beef hotdog later, we made our way over to the CityLit project tent where my former poetry professor Lizzie Skurnick and my current favourite writer and Baltimorean, Laura Lippman were paneling a discussion on Lizzie's Book, Shelf Discovery. I purchased "Shelf" at the fair and happen to be reading one of Laura's books now, so I got them to sign my copies (each of their own work). C and I headed off to meet up with Catchka just in time to eat another snack and quit the festivities to seek shelter from the rain, which became quite insistent on falling with some intention.

Once inside, I brewed some of the Honduran Bluebird and set about some homework--bookmaking homework--which Catchka graciously helped me with. Crystal vacuumed, then did homework of her own. Caryl took a nap. The day, grey at the outset, gave over fully to its melancholy bent.

Caryl had heard about a play at one of the city's many independent, small theatres. For want of anything else to do, we checked it out. One nice thing about the Single Carrot is that they give you at least one glass of beer or wine (or soda) gratis. The staging of Eurydice was thoughtful, I felt, and the acting of two of the characters in particular, was wonderfully effective.

Indian/Nepalese takeout rounded out our evening, and finally bed sometime after midnight.

you know you're wearing the right bra

when you don't give it a single thought all day long. how many hours have i lost pulling up cups, stuffing myself back in, and tightening and loosening straps? Weeks? Months if you laid each adjustment end to end?

Zen Breakfast

In Rehoboth this past weekend, I became preoccupied with the idea of purchasing music that exists solely to create a space for meditation and to be, generally, ambient.

Sarah and I popped into some new age-y spa type place where I grabbed a pack of eucalyptus patches for colds and coughs and some O.P.I. nail polish (give me moor!) that is the colour of an eggplant in its prime. I was torn, though, over their varied selection of CDs like "Zen Breakfast," and "Chillounge."

It being vacation, I was primed to spend money I would never spend in my own hometown (and tax free at that), but I still could not bring myself to shell out the better part of 20.00 for a compact disc. I don't buy physical music anymore. Why would I when iTunes has almost everything I'd want for somewhere between 10 and 15 (depending on the album type and release date?)? What I didn't know is whether or not iTunes would carry this kind of thing, but I took the chance and left with just my patches and polish.

On the second day of the weekend, I had a 30-minute "stress buster" massage. Essential oils, ethereal music, and mind clearing stillness reminded me. I needed to find a way to create this kind of vibe at home--turn my apartment into a place of supreme relaxation (hard to do with reality tv always on in the background).

When I got up from the massage table, I felt almost dizzy with calm. And my limbs were liquid.

Before we left this second spa (Sarah had gone the pedicure route), I also purchased some "Blue Oil,"which was demoed on me. It's a natural headache cure and sinus clearer. Much as I was tempted, though, I left the 50.00 Chakra mist behind.

I am listening to Zen Breakfast as we speak. 9.99 at iTunes. and what the heck, Chillounge, too, for good measure.

a new tack

I know it's fall because I have the incredible need to colour-coordinate my drawers, find places for errant pieces of paper, sign all documents, throw away summer's stragglers, work out regularly, drink green tea, and buy turtleneck sweaters.

This summer was mild and the crisp cool of these late September mornings has overtaken the docile heat easily. I have a simultaneous sense of hope and of despair. And in that despair there is the desire to grasp loose threads and make something of them, or to do away with them. So bring on the hearty bowls of oatmeal, and a non-negotiable 10 pm bedtime on school nights. I am preparing for a battle of epic proportions, and I'll need my strength.

Everything is fleeting and temporary and subject to gravity. I am no different.

Yesterday, I felt like the most simple, declarative sentences were punching me in the chest. And I felt afraid—wanted to run for cover—of everything. That is not love, not the disposition toward love. Perfect love does not have fear in it. Perfect love does not want to hide from true things.

I read once that whenever you are afraid, you need to change something. I am summer's straggler. I am my own loose end.

"well, it's not elegant..."

well, it's a cold, crampy morning at the baltimore chronicles and your heroine salimah perkins and her doppleganger, Kate Krupnik are both out of deoderant.

have been reading the first Tess Monaghan novel, Baltimore Blues, and am ever charmed. i wish i could fall headlong into a job where i solve people's subtle and not-so-subtle mysteries all day. my surly, jaded disposition would serve me well, i think.

on birthday parties and web sites

i was wearing something far more low-cut and clingy than i would normally dare--my frame definitely on the zaftig side of the spectrum these days--but felt i had the swagger that night to pull it off. i even wore open-toed shoes. another of my arbitrary fashion No-Nos. well, it's not really arbitrary. i don't like my feet much. but all the stars aligned and i somehow managed to go to three classes after work that week and squeeze in a hair appointment, shopping for the fete, and a pedicure.

i didn't do it alone--Crystal prepared the apartment and carted me around on errands. Sarah conceptualized the menu and came over after work on the 4th and made all the food. Meanwhile, Vanessa, graphics designer whiz kid was hard at work coding www.salimahjperkins.com in time for a b-day release.

as i predicted, i did feel lit from within, but there was a moment when i also felt like a deflated balloon. mr. close encounters left early, ostensibly to support a friend who was performing somewhere on charles street. a soloist. a woman. he said we should get together again to celebrate our (his was a mere two days after mine) and my sister's birthdays, but i wasn't sure if those were words parsed as an apology for having to leave before everyone else...

36

here we go...

when i was 35, it was a very good year...?

about this time last year, i began my second grad program, was planning a vacation with Sarah to the bonnie beaches of delaware, and michael jackson was still alive. i was significantly thinner and had salon nails on the regular because i made very decent money for someone my age who had no one but herself to worry about.

let's see. what are we looking at from here?

year 2 of the grad program. full-time this semester. full-time work too, thankfully, but of uncertain duration. way less money. salon nails proved to be my arch nemesis. there is another beach trip planned, in a couple of weeks, not to mention the charming trip i took with my sisters a couple of weeks back.

i've finally actualized my plans for a web site (finding a designer i could afford who is equal to the task was pretty much the hold up). www.salimahjperkins.com becomes something legitimate tomorrow.

it can all feel like so much circling and eddying, ebbing and flowing, but i guess i'm getting there. wherever that is.