Janice Gould's Visit

Janice Gould’s reading was very interesting. The pieces she chose to read made sense and I had to wonder why she chose those particular pieces. I enjoyed that she told little explanatory anecdotes to help us understand the context of the poems she chose to share.

While her reading was interesting, Janice Gould’s persona surprised me. Despite that I already knew she was only half Native American and that she grew up in Berkeley, I was expecting someone decidedly more Native American, and less Berkeley. Learning that she is a lesbian and looking at her demeanor and style of dress reminded me much more of the adults that surrounded me when I was growing up than I expected.

I was also surprised by the formatting and context of her poems. Specifically, how introspective her poems really were. On my first reading, I thought her works were meant to deliver more of a message than a feeling. Learning that she wrote her poems and published two of her books around the deaths of her parents made the content of her books seem deeper somehow.

I liked that she played with some forms of poetry simply out of curiosity. She wanted to write the sestina because she thought it would be a challenge to write one that fit into the rules of sestina and had meaning. I though her sestina definitely delivered in terms of both the format and the content, even with her “poetic license” at the end.

Her talk was definitely interesting, and I am glad I got to see her read and hear more about her life, Concow history, and her process.

week 7 prompt 2

Ernest Hemingway once wrote a short story in six words. “For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.” I believe this constitutes many stories. I believe different people read these 6 words and can interpret it in many different ways. People interpret these 6 words in many different ways from different cultures and background, therefore they can create their own stories. Some people may think this may be just a story about baby shoes on sale that is never worn. It could be a store selling shoes or a garage sale, we don't know. It allowed us to questioned the words and expand our imagination to create our own stories. 

I never knew there was such things as 6 words stories. When I first read the six words, many interpretation came up in my mind. I started to think, does this story have to do with a baby who was gone, therefore the baby shoes was never worn? It made me questioned, what happened to the baby? Why is the baby shoes on sale? Where is the story taking place? All these questions have many answers depending on how we analyze it. 


In dreams, in love,  in life.
To be successful, follow your dreams. 
You say this, then you left

Prompt Option One

It may be summer but the clouds are swelling with rain that will fall and flood the rivers. But the water will be murky so we cannot swim in it although the temperature outside will be appropriately hot. Although some may want to visit this place in this season, I prefer other times of the year. The flies will be buzzing and the smell of wet dirt will be in the air. There will be no red ants during this time of year, which I will surprisingly miss seeing. Of all the seasons, fall may be the prettiest of them all because the hills are green and lush. All of the fields of crops are blooming and the corn is ready to be picked. I use to visit this place during winter every year and even got to see snow one year but that was exceptionally cold weather. We made snowmen but they melted by lunch time. But no matter what, during this time of the year the hilltops in the distance are covered in snow. But a positive about winter time is the fact that there are hardly any flies and the weather allows for almost any recreational activities such as horse back riding or four wheeling. I can't speak too much about spring time because I've only visited this place once during the spring. But spring is a boring time of the year to be in this place because Americans usually don't visit and the streets aren't filled with kids. This place is San Nicolas in Durango, Mexico.

A place I know well

In the main room on the ground floor there is pink carpet, rickety brown and silver risers, a baby grand piano, stacks of rarely used blue plastic chairs, a chalk board and a black music stand. No air conditioning, inadequate heating, and fluorescent lights (at least one of which is always on the fritz). It is San Francisco, after all. In the summer it tends to be empty. It sits there, waiting for those few days towards the end of July when about 25 alumnae meet. At the beginning of August, the room gets a nice surprise, 44 girls bond over their hard work. Then, another break. The stains from spilled vitamin water become more visible. The sweatshirts find a home in the corner. A couple of different groups come to practice. But all the time, the room waits. Come fall, the building is bustling. The upstairs rooms are full. Parents mill around, listening to their daughters sing (although that is discouraged). It’s only September, but the sounds of Christmas are already in the air. And so it continues. Come December, the room is packed. All 300 girls pile into it, surely a fire hazard. The risers are pushed back. The music stand is on a podium. The baby grand is pushed to the front of the room. The room becomes stuffy. The back door to the ally is pushed open. One of the administrators from upstairs stands in the doorway to make sure no one leaves without a parent. Then, a break. In springtime, beautiful music is heard throughout the hall. Now the 44 girls are comfortable with each other. The room is ready to allow overtones to be discernable. The pink carpet has become normal. The cracked white paint is no longer noticeable. Come May, it will all be over. Time for another break. Another period of silence. But those white walls and that pink carpeted floor—they have heard so much music come together over the last year, and are ready to hear the process start over.