kate greenstreet
kate at kickingwind dot com
about
some poems online
scheduled readings

case sensitive: get it here

September 2005


eod current
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first-book & other interviews:
here


blogs:

537neon
ada limon
almost i rushed from home...
a. lobster
adam clay
amy king's blog
anachronizms
andrea baker
a peek of reach
a poet's eyes
a sad day for sad birds
asthma chronicles
a tonalist notes
avoiding the muse
awfully serious
aye, wobot!
bachelardette
bemsha swing
big window
black and white
the blind chatelaine's poker poetics
bloggedy blog blog
blonde on blonde
boarding parties
bob marcacci
books, inq.
both both
brandon brown
brazier & inkstone
the burning chair
caconrad
cahiers de corey
can of corn
caterina.net
catherine daly's blog
charles bernstein's weblog
chaxblog
chicago postmodern poetry
chicana poetics
chicks dig poetry
clay matthews

conchology
croissant factory
cosmopoetica/cpb
coursing public thought
critical fiction
cruelest month
culture industry
da-crouton
dagzine
dbqp: visualizing poetics
the delay
desert city
the dishwasher's tears
DIY poetics
DIY publishing
do gummi bears dream...
dumbfoundry
elsewhere
epistle whipped
equanimity
esther press
e-x-c-h-a-n-g-e-v-a-l-u-e-s
the exquisite corpse
eyeball hatred 
fait accompli
fewer & further
flowers that gloze
frank sherlock
fringe matters
geneva convention
ghostbrain
hammer loop
harlequin knights
heatstrings
here comes everybody
heuriskein
hg poetics
home-schooled by a cackling jackal
hounds of no
hum and ash
humanophone
hyacinth losers
i am yer grammer
i'll show you mine
immoweth
imprimatur
the ingredient
in place of chairs
iron caisson
ironstone whirlygig
isola di rifiuti
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jacob's ladder
jane dark's sugarhigh!
jeannine blogs
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jim behrle

kaya oakes
kinemapoetics
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lit up like the blood of a centerfold
litwindowpane
looktouchblog
lorcaloca
lorna dee cervantes
the lovely arc
lutheran surrealism
mappemunde
maximum go...
micawberesque
michelle detorie
million poems
minimalist concrete poetry
minor american
modern americans
morescotch
mr. tong bliss' journal
muisti kirja
my maserati
narcissusworks
the neglectorino project
never mind the beasts

nice guy syndrome
nikuko
noah eli gordon
nomadics
notes from a fellow traveler
nothing to say and saying it
now then
odalisqued
open reader
overlap
paul hoover's blog
the pangrammaticon
pantaloons: tykes on poetry
peek thru the pines
philly sound
plight of the troubadour
poetaensanfrancisco
poetry hut
poesy galore
poets' corner
postcards from the imagination
postmodern collage poetry
pseudopodium
pshares blog
pudgy pigeon enterprises
pugnacious pinoy
qbdp: the mailartworks
radish king
reader of depressing books
red slowly
reli[e]able signs
riverfall
rob mclennan's blog
rocket kids
rue hazard
said like reeds or things
saintelizabethstreet
samizdat blog
sam of the ten thousand things
say something wonderful
secret mint
serif of nottingham
shanna compton's blog
shikow
silliman's blog
slicker chumway's
snapper's effing junk(boat)heap

so and so series
spooks by me
stamped & metered flying fish
starnosedmole
steve's house of love
the steinach operation
swoonrocket
texfiles in bahrain
they shoot poets don't they?
third factory/notes/lipstick of noise
this is all your fault
this morning in poetry
tom raworth's notes
transsubmutation
twenty thousand thousand
ululations
understory
union square poetry series
the unquiet grave
venepoetics
virgin formica
voices in utter dark
voix off
the well-nourished moon
we've been talked down
whimsy speaks
whirligig
wild horses of fire
wood s lot
the word cage
the world a letter

yes, starlings! yes!

you are here
ysleta poeta
zach barocas
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.oar.


journals/small press/reviews:

1913
6 X 6
action yes
alice blue
apocryphaltext
barrow street
belladonna books
big game
bird dog
blazevox
black lodge press
black ocean press
boog city
bookforum
bookslut
braincase press
the brooklyn rail
calamari press
the canary
cannibal
carve
chax press
circumference
coconut
coldfront magazine
conduit
the constant critic
cue
the cultural society
cutbank
cy gist press
cy press
diagram
the duplications
dusie
effing press
eoagh
fascicle
faux press e chapbooks
fewer & further press
frame
free verse
frequency
galatea resurrects
gong press
gutcult
half empty/half full
hot whiskey press
jacket
h_ngm_n
the happy booker
the hat
hooke press
horse less press
house press
how2/barbara guest memory bank
jacket
katalanche press
kitchen press
konundrum engine
kulture vulture
la petite zine
lit
melancholia's tremulous dreadlocks
milk
mipoesias
new pages
no
no tell motel
octopus
octopusbooks

onedit
outside voices
the page
parakeet
pettycoat relaxer
poetry 365
the poker
portable press at yo-yo labs
practice: new writing + art
rain taxi
realpoetik
rhino
rhubarb is susan
rose metal press
rust buckle
saint elizabeth street
shampoo
skanky possum
sleepingfish
sona books
spell
the tiny
tool a magazine
three candles
transmission press
typo
ugly duckling presse
unpleasant event schedule
vert
wintered press
wire sandwich
womb
word for/word
xantippe
zafusy

selby's list


audio/radio/video:

AudibleWord.Org
Factory School audio archives  
Kelly Writers House webcasts
Laurable
LINEbreak

miPOradio
my vocabulary  
Naropa archives
PENNsound
UbuWeb

 

 


every other day

16 SEPT 05

Trying to create order, clearing the surfaces, putting things away. The trouble is those other things already on the shelves. Piles of notebooks & papers, squares of painted canvas for projects that never got done. Pretty soon I have twice as much stuff on the floor. For instance, a series of paintings I made from the movie To Kill a Mockingbird, the scene where Jem and Scout walk home through the dark woods and she's in the Ham costume.

I watched this scene over and over without sound. I had in mind to make a quilt of ten or so small paintings, and I created a long text for it that involved a visit from Freud's niece. (I wonder where that is.)

In my version, Jem looked more like a boy from Eastern Europe.

And I kept forgetting the eye slot in the ham.

Somehow the project never quite gelled. But I've held on to the pieces, in case.

It occurs to me that a blog can be a place to store things.

 

14 SEPT 05
vision improvement exercise

Group letter:

I think of you.

"Intrigued" asks for time.

Because remember "just driving"?

What we believe is gradually revealed by our actions.

I made my 5 things list. There are 8 things on it.

Like the astrologer told me: everybody wants to be reborn but no one wants to die.

You have the plate you can’t drink from. And that one’s missing an arm.

"The down and up of burn down and burn up are intensives. Burn down is limited to structures and candles: burn up, however, can be used of anything when one wishes to convey the idea that the destruction was complete." (Dictionary of Contemporary English Usage, 1957)

I lied.

"But what if then is now."  (Susan Howe)

Sincerely.

 

12 SEPT 05
But some good things lately:

Many of us are on our second or third round of giving to various relief efforts. In the department of finding $ you didn't know you had, consider that some organizations and businesses offer matching donations. For instance, if your site or blog is being hosted by Dreamhost, they'll match the whole amount you give to the Red Cross here.

Interview with Brenda Iijima at PhillySound

CARVE 6

Jess Mynes interviews CARVE editor Aaron Tieger and Chris Rizzo of Anchorite Press

Premiere issue of Fascicle

Issue 8 of Word For/Word

Sudden appearance of The Duplications

A few people have actually pre-ordered my chapbook. (Thanks to Scott Pierce for starting this landslide.) I should have copies in my possession by the 16th or so.

I really like it when after you lose a contest you get the winning book in the mail for free or for a pittance. New Michigan Press does this and so I've just received a chapbook by Rachel Moritz, which has me rapt. From the page I'm on, p. 21:

Dull inside the peeling walls
with a golden maze or the
tambor of my bed. This is the
place west of setting sun she
said

Can you see the little dusts
building by window? Just as I
would build up I would build
in the narrowest bed there
ever was I would make my
bed form a window and rest
there one night only Each
night is the same night
repeated                                   

(from The Winchester Monologues)

weight

Did some painting yesterday. First time in a while. Thought of standing on the beach near where the ferry comes in, watching the fires across the bay. Days of breathing that smoke. I went back into the big black canvas, ruined it enough to give me something to work with.

 

10 SEPT 05
studio wall

(from Summa Lyrica in The Sighted Singer)
"In the matter of poetry, everybody is trying to say the same thing. Your business and my business is with the commonplaces, helping one another to the world. Whether I understand what I am saying is not the important thing. The important thing is to be faithful to the event."

I don't know if I think that's true but I think it's beautiful.

 

8 SEPT 05
Hurricane Relief information (links at HCE)

and look into this:


:

Finally finished the job I've been doing for the past week & a half. Before starting right in on the next one, I take an hour and head out to the studio to sand some boards while watching (mostly I listen to) a video from ATOA. It's a panel discussion from a few years back called "Women & Expressionism." Not a great tape, but the main thing I notice is: it's good to hang out with these women. It helps.

Joan Snyder, Louise Fishman, Brenda Goodman, Pat Pasloff. The work of the first three I already know & admire. They're asked to say a little about themselves. Pasloff tells about becoming a student of de Kooning's (his only student, when he was hired as an unknown and shunned by all at Black Mountain back in the day). Fishman and Goodman speak movingly of their mothers, bringing to my mind V. Woolf's comment that "we think back through our mothers if we are women."*

They show slides. Slides of paintings are weird. They've always seemed dumb & old-fashioned. The viewing in the dark never natural or enveloping--it's awkward, the "...next" with the description of how big it really is, and the inevitable one or two upside down or backwards. (When slides finally stop being the accepted form of displaying art in absentia, it'll probably be like vinyl: everyone will say they were so much warmer and bigger.)

Lately reproductions of all kinds interest me a lot. And, for various reasons, I lean toward the idea of making art that's multiple. But there's something I feel in the presence of the unrepeatable object, the thing that time was found or stolen for and is now visible in, "indwelling." I don't think I'm being sentimental. The built & sanded & marked by hand only-one still seems worth making, and traveling to see.

Joan Snyder has a show up now until October 21 at the Jewish Museum in Manhattan (moving north after that to the Danforth Museum), and a big book on her work (finally) coming out this fall from Abrams.

Back in the house, there's an email from photographer (and my internet pal) Sandy Dyas: her daughter Jamie Elizabeth Hudrlik, a young painter living in Chicago, has her first site up. I don't notice that the images onscreen are yet another kind of reproduction. Instead I feel: Painting! not dead, again!


6 SEPT 05
Before me are the waves of the sea.
They are so many. They are countless.
They are a swarm. They roar in a minor key.
The surf bakes them like waffles.
All the shore is trampled as by cattle.
They are a swarm, the skyscape drove them out.
In a herd, he set them down to pasture
And went to bed beyond the hill, belly down.       
(Pasternak)

 

4 SEPT 05
Lillie Knox

"I'm Troubled About My Soul" (sung by Lillie Knox, from the new CD by Clothesline Revival, Long Gone)

 

2 SEPT 05
"Housing is most urgently needed within reasonable driving distance (about 300 miles) of the affected areas in the Southeast, especially New Orleans."    www.hurricanehousing.org

:

Working against deadlines. Always late. Months passed, dreams piled up. "If art comes from where the dreams come from." Someone on the list today, from another country, said: "The U.S. federal government seems to model its behaviour after bad action thrillers."

What the art of a period of time shows us is different from what history shows. If art is a record of how people have felt, what they thought, and what came through them, history is a story about what they did. It changes as perspectives change, "truth" is uncovered or buried deeper. But basically the story is all about who got on top of who, and the awful shit that happened then.

I have a baby with me, not mine. Like a plant--"nature boy"--his hair is green and black, fernish. Taking him home. Who’s driving? me? Everyone wants to look (but not really interested). Am I taking good enough care of him? (Not mine. And he’s so tiny.)

What can artists do to help alleviate the suffering of their time? Can we only reflect the group mind, or can we actually affect it? With art, I mean.

"The dream story is not the dream itself." *

. . . . . . . . .

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