Trying to be a blogger

I am going to try to blog rather than write essays–I always feel somewhat naked (for me, an uncomfortable sensation in public) when I post something but I think it will be nice for me (though perhaps not you) to face up to my fears.

I am reading Bernadette Mayer’s work–something I should have done long ago (notice how I qualify everything I write (and who is this extra little voice undercutting that statement))–her elevation of all thought/consciousness to a similar level–high level/low level (what we call low level)–is extremely intriguing to me.  This is especially true in light of my own constant struggle between my mothering and my incredible need for privacy and time to write and think.  I have given up a true professional trajectory (generally this doesn’t bother me, although sometimes I really want the perks of respectability that come with professorship) but I am still deeply driven.  Here I am, this moment, typing in a coffee shop (though unfortunately nothing so potentially lucrative as Harry Potter) and I feel somewhat riven with guilt.  I should be with kids at all times, given everything in myself to them instead of squandering it on this page.

Anyway, Bernadette Mayer is an incredible read.

Some other things I am thinking about:  the shark attack in Solana Beach.  I feel so sad about it–in a very strange irrational way.  Willie says sharks are incredible cowards–they attack and then leave the person to bleed to death.  They interviewed that professor at Scripps who was the first to document the behavior of a shark during an attack.

Something else, I am trying to steer clear in my mind of various things that I will not bring up here because they make us all feel tired and impotent.

There are children here, I should be with mine.

I am also reading about the witch trials in Germany by Lyndal Roper.  Is it just silliness on my part or is there something to learn by going back to these?

may all beings be

may all

does it
I wonder whether these little wishes help.  There are wolves running all around with snares around their necks.  The name of one book about witches is In the Devil’s Snare.  I wish I was watching quail.  I miss the kids.