I hope you'll permit me an indulgence. While this blog is not about my work, I wanted to remember these two pieces before I give them away. "What is the purpose of literary criticism? Among other things, to guide the reader past his or her resistance. Most art, subtly or aggressively, resists the familiar. Poetry in particular suffers from this resistance, because poets take the material that we depend on to operate in and make sense of the world (language), and bend it to other, often seemingly obscure, purposes....Our attachment to familiar language is powerful, and understandable. Without critics, we will hold on to the familiar and be unable to accept that there are other uses for language, that there is new and exciting poetry all around us.Today, in American poetry, very few critics take it upon themselves to examine the choices poets make in poems, and what effect those choices might have upon a reader. As a consequence, very few people love contemporary American poetry. Many more might, if critics attempted to truly engage with the materials of poetry—words and how they work—and to connect poetry with an audience based on an engagement with these materials. "
"I think it's peculiar that the sun, the quintessential live giver, constant in our lives, symbol of enlightenment, spirituality, eternity, all things unreachable and ephemeral, omnipotent provider of optimism and vitamin D, and so universally photographed, finds expression on the internet, the most virtual of places equally infinite but within a closed electrical circuit. Looking into this cool electronic space one finds a virtual window onto the natural world."
It is no secret that I have the cutest puppy in the world. Here is further documented proof of that fact.
Ghost Writer used to be one of my FAVORITE shoes. I was compeletely in love with Jamal. Thanks to Slice Magazine for reminding me of its existence.
Thanks to the impossible cool for posting this picture of Duane Allman. It reminded me of evenings dancing to my parents music in the living room. Allman and Eric Clapton were my favorites once upon a time.
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I realized tonight that I've been a bad sister lately. There is really no good excuse, and I've neglected to thank my brother for everything he has been doing lately -- watching the dog, cooking dinner and generally being available for my whining. 
I had the unique privilege of babysitting the one month old of the tech director of our firm today. His name is Tyler James and he is one of the cutest, sweetest babies I've had the pleasure of watching. Truly, few things are better than babies and this was a lovely treat. For your ooohing and aahhing...
Last Sunday morning began at the wee hour of 7AM, which would be late of course on any day except a rainy Sunday. I dragged myself out of bed only because I promised Ann Marie that I would join her for her first race -- the St. Patty's Day 8K. 
I'm told its a terrible habit but I love to set up friends. (Though they all protest, I think they secretly like it). I saw this photo while creating my latest match, and thought it was a very sweet sentiment.
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