Breathing in Pulp

I haven’t got a title for my final manuscript yet. And I’ve got a second offer to submit a smaller body of work for a 3rd chapbook. So, I’m forgetting titles, even though the latest grant application I submitted to had me title my work in progress: ‘Let the Words Melt’ which in Italian translates as Parole Lische but that’s not the literal Italian translation, this is: Loose Words. Loose words on tongues. Ha. I’m listening to Arcade Fire, what a treat! So impressed with them and I continue on ‘breathing in pulp’ over all the facets of my being and all that the mind, body, spirit is exposed to. I haven’t got any assets yet I feel so rich. A prophetess. A priestess lifted by various artistic media. I’m eager to get to read Lydia Davis’ version of Madame Bovary but that won’t be officially out until December. The next film for me to see is The Social Network & the goal for gratitude is to spend more hours between now and Christmas at the gym. Get some articles done for Open Book Ontario/Toronto and finish the manuscript I need to work on so that they are to my satisfaction prior to handing them off to the editor. It will be an exciting month. There’s the City of TO Vote happening October 25th. I’m moving into my own work/live space studio at the end of the month! Decor and painting and a ‘welcoming’ party is in order for plenty of good fun. There are quite a few readings going on in the next three weeks that I plan to attend in support of good friends and also there is the oncoming Fall Season launches of various publishing houses. Autumn, in full foliage.

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2 thoughts on “Breathing in Pulp

  1. Greetings Sonia,

    Thanks for your Hello on my blog. I made a point of taking a look at it after my little visit to Toronto — now your note has made me go over the thing after more or less forgetting it for half a year or something.

    I re-read Forest Primitive (Holly Briesmaster sent me a copy a while back) — and have been struck again; it’s passionate and alive.

    Yup, I’ve been to Tunisia — Tunis and south to an oasis or two. I remember standing at a railing near Tunis looking out across the Mediterranean and someone telling me that Sicily was sometimes visible. I couldn’t see it — just the astonishing blue of the sea… So I think I imagined I saw it, and it was there, a magical dot in the distance. Since I’d never been to Sicily (but to Italy a few times) and wanted to go there, I almost ended up taking a boat to Sicily from Tunis. But settled for listening to an Italian radio station…

    Thanks again for your note — and the very best to you. I’ll look forward to seeing your poems as they arrive on web or book pages — poems like clear Sicilys!

    Russell

    Like

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