Podcasts about One Art

A poem about a map opens North and South, the first collection of the great twentieth century poet Elizabeth Bishop, and since, maps have been associated with her poetic vision—at once telescoping and binocular—and with the polarities and preoccupations of her work. The map's privileged, sweeping, bird's eye view of the earth is also hand-held, man-made, intimate. Depending on its level of minuteness or obsession, it can contain the tiniest details as well as, let's say, the whole enchilada. And though it purports to be scientific and objective, it is representational and therefore subjective, particular, imaginative, and personal. For several episodes, Wes & Erin will be reading a selection of some of Bishop's most anthologized poems, starting with “The Moose” as expressions of, among other things, her map-like imagination. Upcoming Episodes: Nolan’s adaptation of “The Odyssey”; more Elizabeth Bishop poetry: “First Death in Nova Scotia,” “One Art.” Pre-order Erin’s forthcoming book “Avail” here: http://subtextpodcast.com/avail For bonus content, become a paid subscriber at Patreon or directly on the Apple Podcasts app. Patreon subscribers also get early access to ad-free regular episodes. This podcast is part of the Airwave Media podcast network. Visit AirwaveMedia.com to listen and subscribe to other Airwave shows like Good Job, Brain and Big Picture Science. Email advertising@airwavemedia.com to enquire about advertising on the podcast. Follow: Twitter | Facebook | Website Transcript 0:11 Erin: Welcome to part two of our discussion of the poems of Elizabeth Bishop. We are currently about. Oh, I'm okay. I'm proud of us. We're just about halfway through the Moose. That's not bad compared to our usual record. We're not halfway through stanza one. We're going. You know, it's about a bus trip. It's encouraging us to pick up the pace a little bit and get to our next stop. So we were just going to pick up with the woman in stanza 13 climbing into the bus. 0:41 Wes: Before you say that, I just want to make one little observation. 0:44 Erin: Oh, sure. 0:45 Wes: Just that we get right as soon as the light goes out, it's then that we get the barking of a dog and the smell of salt. First it's the smell of salt hay and then it's the barking of a dog. So smell is introduced. And is that the first time sound is really introduced in any. You know, we get the bus starting and all that, but I think that's right. It's very visual up to that point, I think. And then as soon as we lose the light, we get these new sensory modalities. The collie just supervised this dog, gives us a nice bark, and presumably we can't even see him. We just hear him. So I just love that. I just. I love the transition into darkness. It's so. 1:26 Erin: Yeah. 1:26 Wes: I don't know how else to say it. 1:28 Erin: Yeah. 1:28 Wes: And it's then that we. This really is the midpoint of the poem because now we're going to make this transition into the world of the bus, I guess. As the woman climbs in, we have 1:41 Erin: the ship's port lantern, as you said, being an indication that it's now nearly or fully dark outside. 1:47 Wes: She says red light swims through the dark. 1:50 Erin: Yeah. I'm assuming that at this point a bus would have some form of illumination, at least for when it's stopped and the doors open for people getting on and off the bus. Right. It would. It would light up on the inside interior. Yeah. 2:03 Wes: Yeah. 2:03 Erin: Or at least maybe it would stop, certainly if it were stopping at a station or a little, you know, whatever those things are called. Those little. Yeah, there's a word for it. 2:14 Wes: We need something to see the freckles by. 2:16 Erin: Right. We need something. Exactly. But wherever they would be stopping would have some form of street light illumination or something of that order. Anyway. 2:26 Wes: But it's interesting you say this, because I didn't picture a bus station at any point in this. And I just imagine people along the side of the road. 2:34 Erin: Right. But if it were a course, it 2:38 Wes: couldn't be that way. 2:39 Erin: Well, I don't think it's a station. I think it would be a stop with a. You know, like a lean to. You know, what are those things that just. 2:44 Wes: Yeah, sure. 2:45 Erin: That just protect you from the elements. 2:47 Wes: Yeah. Bust down. 2:48 Erin: Right. 2:48 Wes: Yeah. 2:49 Erin: And that would probably have at least a street light. But anyway, then we get the moonlight. Maybe my favorite. Oh, it's so hard to say, but maybe my favorite image in the poem is the hairy, scratchy, splintery moonlight and mist caught in them like lambswool on bushes in a pasture. Just. There's nothing. There's no image greater than that. That's unbelievable. 3:13 Wes: There's kind of a more wildness to this. Right. The image now, the hairiness and scratchiness and splinteriness. It's a bit less Domesticated, I guess, than the previous part of the poem. 3:27 Erin: That's a really good point. I hadn't thought of that. Even a suggestion of danger, like the lamb running. 3:34 Wes: I just thought, this is where the hobbits are entering Fangorn Forest. 3:39 Erin: Yes. Yeah, yeah, the New Brunswick. 3:41 Wes: But you go a little bit more. It's a little wilder and more primal. I think once you. Even if you're on a bus, once you get into the woods, there's something different about it. 3:52 Erin: That's right. 3:53 Wes: But yeah, you're right. The idea that the moonlight could get caught in that. That's a great image. 3:59 Erin: Something giving chase to the lamb would cause it potentially to get a little ensnared in the chase. 4:06 Wes: It's as if Lambswool has, you know, a lamb is brushed up on the bramble or whatever and left its will so that. So the moonlight, instead of making this cosmic journey and landing on articulating the environment, has been subordinated to the environment. Right. It's become. It's been captured by these hairy woods. It's caught on it and, you know, a piece of it has come off from being caught on something that's scratchy and splintery. So that. That. Yeah, this is the great reversal. And that's the place where you can really get some good sleeping. Yes, right. 4:44 Erin: Yes. And where dreamy things can happen. 4:47 Wes: Divagation. Yeah, wanderings. 4:51 Erin: I looked that up. Wandering, straying or digressing from a main course, path or topic. So like a digression as long as 4:59 Wes: the bus stays on track. 5:00 Erin: Yeah, that's right. 5:01 Wes: You do whatever you want with your mind. 5:02 Erin: That's right. And the night. I just looked on Google Maps while I was writing my little notes in the margins. And if you were to take a bus today from Great Village to Boston, it would take like 10 hours. So it definitely is a, yikes, full course of the night on this night bus. So I love what happens in stanza 16, which begins in the creakings and noises, an old conversation not concerning us, but recognizable somewhere back in the bus. So I really love that it's grandparents voices, she says, uninterrupted talking. This is where the I becomes an us. And this is a characteristic of a bishop. I think she's rather reluctant to use an I, capital I in a poem. She's more likely to use a we or an us. And here it's as if they're all part of the same family now in the bus and the adults. It's almost like everybody on the bus who isn't a grandparent is a child and the adults in the back are talking and we are all, oh, that doesn't concern us. Just go to sleep. It's none of your business. Just stop eavesdropping on us. Right, so there's some community that's been formed already by the people who are not the grandparents talking. Do you get that impression? 6:20 Wes: Yeah, it's a bit confusing. So, yeah, let's try to figure it out. Because it. So it begins. A dreamy navigation begins in the night. She doesn't say, I started dreaming or they started dreaming or we started dreaming. Although it seems almost like it's collective. Right. So that the bus is dreaming or everyone on the bus is dreaming together, which kind of lines up with the not concerning us later on, the gentle auditory slow hallucination. So that's a very interesting idea. Right. The dream is usually associated with subjectivity. Right. The cogito and Descartes. Right. The dream tells us that we might have trouble distinguishing reality from what's in our own minds. And we in our own minds are very potentially cut off from reality. But it's a. It's an alienated individual position here. The dream is. Seems to be collective. And perhaps it's collective because it's partly real. Right. Is that the conversation? I thought, okay, there's a conversation going on in the back of the bus and it is old people talking. But as you're lying back, you could sort of. You can't hear exactly what they're saying. And you might have that kind of half dream, Right. Where you're. The dream is kind of lined up with or intertwined with what's going on in reality. So she's hearing in the conversation of the old people, her grandparents voices. Is that the way you took this? Or. Or they, they're hearing the grandparents voices or. Yeah. How do we, how do we interpret this? 7:54 Erin: I interpreted it as, you know, people of the age of grandparents having a real conversation. But the idea that one could be having an auditory. I mean, we are given the word auditory slow hallucination. So the idea that there could be an auditory hallucination or kind of half dream of one's own grandparents having a conversation, or it may be superimposed on a real conversation kind of inaudible going on on the bus. I never noticed this before. The G in grandparents is capitalized. So it does seem to sit to suggest the speaker's particular grandparents rather than. 8:30 Wes: Oh, I was going to. I thought you were going to say archetypal grandparents. 8:34 Erin: Oh, yeah, I suppose it could be yeah, it could be read that way, too. I think all of these things are true, right? 8:40 Wes: Yeah. 8:40 Erin: I mean, the image works because of the, shall we say, universal particularity of this experience. 8:47 Wes: The ordinary way to write the poem would be to. And a much simpler way would be to put this in her point of view and not try to put it into a collective point of view. But that seems to be what she's doing. 8:59 Erin: Yes. The effectiveness, though, I think is the. And it could just be the speaker's perception of it, but the atmospheric quality, because everyone on the bus is going to share an experience shortly, but already they are sharing an experience and a kind of atmosphere that they're all listening to the hum and having that. You know, when you're in the car and you. Maybe when you're a kid and you put your ear up against, like, the. The car door or the window or something, and you hear orchestral music. I don't know if you ever had that. I used to always hear classical music when I would put my head up. 9:38 Wes: Yeah, I don't think I have that. 9:40 Erin: All kinds of. And I always think, like, I should write this down. But you always have, like, a hallucination of an orchestra playing songs. Different songs. Sometimes like fantastical songs. Yeah. You know, my particular experience maybe doesn't quite get at the. Yeah. The sense that this is shared. 9:57 Wes: Well, you're put into a kind of dreamy state, and yet you're getting at the auditory hallucination part. I mean, for me, I think, as a child, and this, I think, is very evocative of childhood. It's something about being half asleep or falling asleep. You're on a journey and there are adults in the car and there's some. Maybe some sense of safety, I think is very relevant to this poem. But being ensconced in the world of adults and not quite alone when you do this thing, which is potentially very lonely, which is go to sleep. And of course, a lot of kids don't want to go to sleep because that loneliness factor. But it's a much different experience if you're traveling. You're all on the way to something together. And of course, you're with people who are awake and, you know, are going 10:45 Erin: to be awake, maybe because the kids are falling asleep. Their. Their voices are lowered and softer. And maybe that also contributes Right. To the. The way in which. That lulls the children in the back simply because they're aware of not wanting to talk too loudly. Certainly that would be the case on a bus like this, where they're Having a conversation where they're talking in. In lower voices and maybe actually inducing that calm and hum for sleep in the people, the other people in the bus who aren't talking. 11:15 Wes: And the question is, what are the adults doing with their talk? Right. It's not going to work if your parents are just fighting. In this case, it's the grandparents. Voices are clearing things up and I guess bringing certain things to resolution, coming to terms with these losses. But a lot of it does sound a bit gossipy and not necessarily like the most comforting. 11:39 Erin: Yes. Yeah. 11:39 Wes: Sort of talk we could imagine. Yeah. 11:41 Erin: Well, you know, in a situation like this where you might be a child in this car, could be that you're coming back from whatever, like a, like a late night and then the adults in the car are working through whatever has just happened over the course of the night. And. Oh no, she was the one who had that long. Yeah. Who had the criminal record because of that thing, remember where they. Oh, yeah, yeah. That was like 20 years ago. So you sort of get that. But for an entire family history going back ages and ages, talking in eternity. Deaths, deaths and sicknesses. The year he remarried, the year something happened. Oh, yeah, what year was that? Right. Something about the journey afterwards or maybe away from home. If these people are also. If their home is Nova Scotia and they're departing it, you know, then there's that backwards looking quality where something about the idea of the journey and moving away from the place is giving the opportunity to then take stock and look back. So there's this sort of like dual action happening in the poem where the further the bus goes, the further back they're kind of looking from deaths and sicknesses to then remarriage and then childbirth. Son lost when the schooner found her. 12:58 Wes: These are all very blue collar tragedies, right? 13:00 Erin: Yes. 13:01 Wes: He was arrested for insider trading. 13:04 Erin: No, but I mean, you know, there's a reverse order to what's happening, you know, so we get. We have death, then sickness, then remarriage, then dying in childbirth. So there's a rewind is what I mean. Yeah. 13:17 Wes: Well, we come back in the end to death. The way it's all summed up. 13:20 Erin: Insider trading. Sorry. 13:23 Wes: Huh? 13:24 Erin: Sorry, Just insider trading. That really is funny. 13:31 Wes: And he had an affair. No. A sharp indrawn breath. Half grown, half acceptance. That means life's like that. We know it. Also death, you know, and then the question, what does also death mean there? Death knows it, we also know death. But it, you know, it made me wonder at various points I wondered. Well, Is this an element here of a journey to the underworld or to the afterlife? Maybe it's a job not claiming that that's strong thematic part of this, but maybe a hint of that type of thing. Because the journey, I mean, and it does seem like journeys are good places for this or like when I travel, it produces in me a very different state of mind. And I do find it very calming in a way, you know, especially actually being on the train or something like that, because you're in between two different locations and you maybe you're not caught up in the expectations or the constricting qualities of any particular location. If I'm at home, I have to do this and that work, or if I'm at a destination, then I'm dealing with relatives or I have to be a tourist or something like that. But there's something liberating about being in between two locations. So it does seem like a place for this type of dreamy hallucination or this reflection or this clearing of things up. It's almost like therapy. Right? That's what all of this sounds like. People are talking through their problems, but where is it that they get to in the end here? The half grown, half acceptance. So it's not fully acceptance. It sums things up with this, maybe a degree of resignation. So yeah, I don't know. What do you make of the stanza? 15:15 Erin: Well, they're traveling west significantly. Right. I do take a lot of this to be a kind of, say, pre figurement of death, even though at the same time the fact that they're in the woods, the fact that not to jump ahead too much, the fact that the moose will come out of the woods and appear notably in the middle of the road, there is a suggestion of middle age or middleness, or midway in the journey of our life, I found myself within a dark forest. So I think it works both ways, or perhaps it's working in several ways simultaneously for the various passengers. So maybe the speaker is experiencing something more akin to the Dante esque middle of the journey on the bus. And something about the bus journey is also, symbolically speaking, a kind of final bus journey for some of the other passengers. And that intersection seems significant, but I don't know how, just in the sense that there's a retrospective quality happening or maybe even a reversion to childhood that goes on for the speaker and the other people in the bus by virtue of the propinquity to these old people at the end of their life's journey. Because there is very little about middleness Here, come to think of it, other than the moose appearing in the middle of the road. Right. It seems that the other people on the bus are like children and the grandparents are the adults. 16:50 Wes: I mean, I think part of what's comforting when we're children is that feeling that adults know the answers and that adults know how to cope with all the dangers and have experience doing that and therefore can protect us. The reality, of course, as we realize as we get older, is that that's not true. So what they may have is more of this acceptance that's sort of highlighted in this stanza, which is potentially a good thing, but maybe a double edged sword because it does seem to be a form of dying. It does seem to be a form of the very thing that we want to be protected from. 17:30 Erin: There's also, though, that. What I used to call my mom, the external hard drive. I used to say back before she. 17:42 Wes: She liked that. 17:44 Erin: I think now it would make her sad because she'll say, you know, very openly that she. Her memory is gone. But it used to be that she knew all the, you know, you could ask her who said that at that one. You know, there's that kind of. I mean, that's a sort of jokey, gossipy scorekeeping thing that she would keep tabs on. But there's also just the idea of long memory being the history keeper, the record keeper, the, you know, and there's sort of settling accounts over the course of this conversation. Oh, right, it was that year. Okay. And then this happened and then, then that happened. And that's important too, I think, for, you know, it situates children in a context. Not just say this idea of death that you're referring to, but also how to situate oneself in a life. 18:34 Wes: Right. 18:34 Erin: There's a. There's a sort of frame that the grandparents or the elder relatives have that whole history up until you enter the narrative and where you fit within that. We mentioned in part one a little bit about Bishop's family history just to kind of prefigure the types of story that she inserts, I think very significantly into the poem, particularly about poor Amos who just wouldn't stop praying in the store and had to be. Had to be put away. Right. Of course she does a gender swap, but yeah, we all have family stories like this, of this kind of unruly behavior or madness of some kind or other or some sort of family drama. 19:19 Wes: Yeah. So it's universal. But the way she captures it is very clever with this talk that we don't quite know whether it's just the conversation of the people, the old people at the back of the bus, or whether it's her dream or whether it's both or somewhere in between. They're interlaced, those two things. And that. That interlacing gets at this aspect of universality. Although I think by the time we get to the stanza where she's fantasizing about the grandparents and the featherbed, this, it start. Seems to become inescapably personal, which is why I think of the. The point of view is getting more and more focused. Right. With. With time. Yeah. And potentially it's still universal, but it seems almost like a personal memory. Right. So talking the way they talked in the old feather bed. Right. The way they. Her. Her grandparents presumably in the old feather bed, peacefully on and on. Dim lamp light in the hall, down in the kitchen, the dog tucked in her shaw. Shawl. Yeah, get another. And get another dog here. 20:28 Erin: I love this. 20:29 Wes: The collie, the barking dog. And. Yeah, so this, this stanza is wonderful. And it gets at exactly this thing that you've been talking about, which is the, like, comfort of being a kid overhearing adults talking. It really, despite this talk of death. Right. A reconciliation with death. This is the point. Seems to be the point of view of a child who finds this very comforting. And. Right. She'll say in the next stanza, now it's all right now even to fall asleep, just as on all those nights, the way in which the adult world and the safety of protective figures can make sleep okay to do. And then suddenly that's interrupted. 21:07 Erin: But I love too. I mean, yes, it's so particular, but it also just in this one stanza does so many things in miniature that the poem is doing all along, this telescoping in again to a scene which. Which even as a child, if it were her childhood in particular that she's referencing, she couldn't possibly know or see. She wouldn't be able to see the grandparents in their featherbed. She would have to be picturing them in the featherbed and she wouldn't be able to see the dog in the hall. And also I wonder if this. If the stanza in its operation is kind of doing. I mean, this is just occurring to me now, but maybe it's doing that kind of hallucinatory work that has prior been described where we actually get a remix of, you know, this is the third dog in the poem. But it's also the elements in the stanza are a kind of recapitulation of the light, the red light swimming, the port Lantern becomes the lamp light in the hall. We get the dog barking now becomes the dog curled up in the shawl. And then maybe even because we also get kitchen, maybe the shawl is even a kind of transposition of the table, tablecloth shook out. Right. So there's something actually in the stanza which has that hallucinatory quality that she's describing where these three elements swim in the imagination and then become the lamplight and the dog and the shawl in this half asleep kind of dream space. Maybe that's pushing things too far, but it does seem to be. It's the dreamiest stanza perhaps in the whole poem. Maybe the following one. Now it's all right now even to fall asleep. But this gets interrupted that next stanza. So this one, I think is the real depth of the dreamy or borderline dreamy or hallucinatory moment. 23:00 Wes: Yeah, this is great because it really underlines the way deviation creates the capacity for stasis or for comfort. So the deviation of a bus trip or of the dreaming. Right. Which is movement, which is dynamic and has that momentum, forward momentum that we were talking about, sort of underwrites or grounds this ability to. For stasis, for stopping, for going to sleep, for feeling comforted as a child and safe, I think. And I keep repeating that word because of the. What's going to happen. The use of the word that's going to happen in this poem later. But yeah, I'm not sure if you were saying that explicitly, but that's what came to mind my mind as you were talking. This. The way in which this journey, devigation, motion can ground something that's going to be more static or stationary, which is what we're going to get in the moose. Because it interrupts the. It explicitly interrupts the motion of the bus and the external line of the poem in a way that parallels the comfort that's produced by the dreaming. 24:08 Erin: Yeah. In stanza 22 is where we have that break that you're describing. The moose finally appears. Well, the moose doesn't appear until stanza 23 finally appears. 24:21 Wes: We've been waiting for you. 24:22 Erin: We've been waiting for you. The title has promised that you would come and then here you are. It is foretold of your coming. 24:29 Wes: Comes through the curtains, takes his bow. Right. 24:32 Erin: We get nights, just as on all those nights. And then the moose's appearance, the lights turn on. And that rhyme you get, I mean, it's a very basic, simple rhyme. Right. But there's that sort of sudden jolt which is then also visualized where in the middle of night we have this appearance, this bright because of the headlights on it. Appearance of the moose. And it looms and sniffs at the bus's hot hood, which I'm assuming means that it thinks that the bus might be a boy moose. 25:06 Wes: No. Well, it's a very hot bus, I'll say that. 25:10 Erin: Ow. Ow. 25:14 Wes: That enamel. And it's dented and, you know, depends on if you like bad buses. No, just kidding. 25:21 Erin: Dented from its last encounter with a girl bus. 25:25 Wes: Yeah. It's funny because I wrote in my notes, but was just reading it stanza by stanza. And the previous stanza I'd said, okay to sleep, even with death looming. Looming for all of us, you know, all day one. You know, one day we all die. Blooming in that sense. And then suddenly the moose is looming, standing there, looming. And I thought, whoa, that's really interesting 25:45 Erin: that I. Oh, yes, chose. 25:48 Wes: Chose that word before I even got to the next stanza. Not to give some, you know, obvious rote sort of identification of the moose with death or the experience of the moose as having something to do with that. But obviously they're coming into contact here with something quite primal and important. It's not just, oh, look, there's a nice moose, but is he sniffing or she's sniffing the buses hot hood because she thinks it might be another moon. That hadn't actually occurred to me. 26:21 Erin: I must have been infected with that reading at some point that this was a frisky moose, that it otherwise doesn't seem frisky at all. It seems pretty. Like a pretty staid, respectable moose. 26:34 Wes: But frisky and ditzy. 26:39 Erin: That's right. Hello. 26:41 Wes: What? 26:41 Erin: Oh, look, I seem to be in the middle of the road. Pardon me. 26:46 Wes: So, towering, antlerous, high as a church, homely as a house. We're safe as houses, a man's voice assures us. Perfectly harmless. Which you presume, right, that the. The man making that assurance is. Precedes the idea of it being homely as a house and safe as houses. Even though. So. So she interestingly puts the associations before her associative responses before the actual stimulus. Right. I don't think she's the one who is thinking about how they must be safe and. And he's saying something. I mean, as far as I know. I don't know back then. But you were warned about bison and mooses, right? Or is it mooses or moose? I think we're warned because they don't. They. They seem harmless, but they're not. And so I was quite surprised by this stanza. And I thought this idea, okay, safe as houses. Well, yeah, houses ought to be safe, but they're not always safe. The bus, the moving container of the bus turns out to be, in a way safer and more conducive to reverie and dreaming and all of that. 27:59 Erin: No matter how you slice it, whether you see the moose as harmless, truly, or not so harmless, this has got to be just a little bit of a wink, right? A man's voice assures us. 28:09 Wes: I mean, I think we're definitely meant to be skeptical. 28:12 Erin: Yeah. 28:13 Wes: This perfectly harmless line, it's not there for us to nod our heads in agreement. 28:20 Erin: Oh, yeah, he's right, right, right. I think it's more like, oh, here's another mansplainer. 28:26 Wes: He's moose splaining. 28:28 Erin: Mooseplaining this woman moose to moose splaining. Just out for a good time, having her existence commented upon by another man's voice. Probably a podcaster. One of those male podcasters has a manosphere podcast. 28:45 Wes: Girl mooses are. 28:49 Erin: Then we get these childish again. The passengers are like children and having this childlike response to the appearance of the moose, including. It's awful, plain sad. So much judgment of women's bodies. 29:04 Wes: I mean, they're not good looking creatures. Let's just. They're, you know, put that on the table. Come on. They are in an ugly sort of way. 29:11 Erin: Yeah. I mean, okay, I guess they don't follow, you know, classical proportions. They don't represent the golden mean. 29:21 Wes: They're not into beauty society societal beauty standards. All right. 29:28 Erin: They are like cartoon characters. 29:29 Wes: They're miss Positive is what they are. 29:35 Erin: Well, what I love though, about the description, you know, we get several, I suppose. Yeah. Contradictory descriptions of the moose in a way, because we get homely as a house or safe as houses. We get awful plane. But then she looks the bus over grand otherworldly, so she has some gravitas. She's like a great character actress who. Who may not be beautiful in that leading lady way, but she's Kathy Bates. Yes. Yeah, well, that's maybe a bit insulting to Kathy Bates, who I do think is a very attractive woman, but. 30:19 Wes: Sorry, Kathy. 30:20 Erin: I know, I love her. 30:21 Wes: Come on the show sometime, please. 30:24 Erin: Oh my gosh, I would die. I love Kathy Bates anyway. And then we get curious creatures. Well, first we get the idea that it inspires joy and then we get curious creatures. So there's a. The joy is then immediately undercut by a kind of ambivalence. Right. So there's just all of these descriptions of the moose combine to create a kind of ambivalent portrait, such as it is, of the animal. 30:47 Wes: Are we going to be able to answer this question? Why? Why do they feel the sweet sensation of joy? I mean, I think I would probably feel it. 30:57 Erin: Why? Why do we all feel it? I mean, they have. Well, they've successfully done what I couldn't see a moose in real life. So they're like one up on Erin. Can't wait to go back and tell her we saw moose. Yeah, I've seen certain things. I can't think of a specific example of this, but I've had plenty of instances. Whether it is a wild animal or, I don't know, like a sunset or a really spectacular natural event of some kind or other. You do get that feeling of joy, kind of excitement. 31:28 Wes: Yeah. Unfortunately, most of my encounters with large animals are at zoos. I did see a bear once. I was going to the bathroom. My mom had a house in Front Royal, Virginia, at the beginning of the Appalachian Mountains. And it was up high on a. We called it a mountain, but it was, I guess, more of a hill. But so it was out, you know, it was kind of. There was a bear on the mountain, let's just put it that way. And, yeah, I was going to the bathroom one day and looking out the window. There's a window right. You know, above the toilet. And suddenly there's bear's face looking at me. Wow. What the. So, but that, you know, and. And that was majestic. No, just kidding. That it was. I. It was surprising. 32:13 Erin: Yeah. 32:14 Wes: And there's an element of fear that involved. Even if you're, you know, even if, you know, black bears are harmless and there's a wall between you. Some. Something scary about it. I didn't have time to feel like it's majestic. Yeah. You know, like you have had these experiences in. In nature, but I can't think of a encounter like this. But it. I seem sure that if I had an encounter like this, I would feel exactly the same way. So. Yeah. What is otherworldly about it? What is majestic about it? It's a big, dumb beast. And I say that with love, without any criticism in the sense that. Right. It's an encounter with something primal. And I think we have to take into account the size of the animal as well. I mean, it is interesting to run into a fox or something like that, but it's also a matter of scale here. But. Yeah. What is otherworldly about it? I mean, I think the most. The most obvious part of this is that you know, we have lost something in our humanity and becoming language using creatures and becoming self conscious creatures. And sometimes when we're confronted with an animal like this, we're confronted with that loss. We're not as connected to the environment because of the intermediation of something like language, which poetry of course tries to overcome. It tries to put language into a disintermediating. Sorry to use these business terms. I don't know why this is happening. Into a disintermediation. 33:46 Erin: Actualize. Yeah, yeah. 33:49 Wes: When it. Yeah, right. Synergize it's agenda. Often where language might put distance between us and the world. Poetry, I think, can undo that distance. Like I was saying, with the very vivid imagery, I can undo that distance with figurative language. And maybe that distance is also undone to some extent by the dreaming or the half dreaming hallucinatory state that she was in. And the comfort of that, the return to childhood, which is also a simpler time. I don't know. I'm thinking out loud here. But yeah, I wanted to try to get more at this, you know, the otherworldly status of the moose and the joy that comes from encountering it. 34:34 Erin: I was thinking to myself, is the moose's gaze really clearly encapsulated? And then I thought, yes, she regards us amicably. And then I was like, no, no, that's the passenger who gets on the bus. 34:44 Wes: Right. Does the moose have freckles? Yeah, that'd be an interesting twist, right? 34:50 Erin: But yeah, but there is one. 34:51 Wes: Turned her into a moose. 34:53 Erin: Well, I would think that this would be a more garden variety animal encounter and maybe even a more, to use a word, I don't like, problematic poem in terms of its relationship with the animal. If it were to focus on the gaze of the animal. Because I think that is the thing which is often at the core of these interactions with animals in which we project or hope to have a kind of meaningful encounter. You want to meet the gaze of the animal and in so doing understand it. Right. And of course you don't realize that you're just projecting onto it a kind of maybe mutual regard. She regards us amicably. That you are seeing it and it is seeing you. And there's an acknowledgement and there's this, you know, spiritual encounter that you have with this animal. And all of that, of course, is often quite silly. It's often quite reductive and fanciful and unrealistic. But I am thinking of an encounter that springs to mind is in Utah. I hiked the same trail almost every day. And I Would often hike it late in order to escape the full heat of the desert sun. Which is a little dangerous, right? Because sometimes the sun would be setting and then all kinds of things come out. And one time I was trying to get back to my car before it got completely dark. And what I thought was a wolf, but what must have been a coyote. And the coyotes in Utah are huge. They look like wolves and completely white. Came out from over a hill, crossed my path, turned, looked at me in the eyes for a very long time, turned and went over on the other side of the hill. I mean, curiously, then, of course, I got to the car and I actually found out that a beloved family member, an elderly family member of mine, had passed away. And I said, I think I just saw her. You know, I had this feeling of, like. I don't know, the sense of this connection, inherent connection between these two. This woman who was dear to me and this encounter. But, of course, that's all silliness. And the idea that I was having a sort of interaction through the gate. Some sort of reciprocal. Right. Interaction with this animal was also entirely just my own projecting onto the animal. However, I will say that that's an instance in which I felt fear. But then there was also this, like, joy at the encounter, I think fear because it was dark. Because I wasn't actually sure if this was a wolf because it blocked my path. It was far enough away that I didn't feel as threatened as I might have. But it was definitely a mixed perception. 37:28 Wes: You didn't shoot it and then hang it around your neck. No, because I was thinking. I just suddenly thought of the albatross poem. 37:37 Erin: Rime of the Ancient Mariner. 37:38 Wes: Rime of the Ancient Mariner. And that sort of relationship to the natural world where. I mean, I forget what we said about it, but maybe I said something about envy and wanting to kill the albatross for. Because of its freedom or something like that. I don't. I don't know. But I think it's important because, yeah, this is part of something about the encounter with the natural world. Whether it's a big moose or something else. Yes. Is otherworldly. Strangely enough, it's otherworldly to us, even though it's where we come from. It's uncanny, maybe. And Freud actually, in the German, I think uncanny is sort of like unhomelike is what the German sounds like. And Freud made a lot out of this. I think it's home, but it's a home from which we've become alienated. We're animals, we're something more than animals. And so that primal encounter brings us back to that foundation, that natural foundation in us, but we can't fully come to terms with it. And I think the other aspect of this, I think the death. Right. So there is a link to death. Just. And I was thinking about that when you described thinking of it as seeing. As seeing your departed loved one. Because if we could regress to that animal state, it would be a kind of death. I think that the association with the movement to the pre. Linguistic, natural foundation is something like the movement towards dying, but there's something comforting. 39:07 Erin: Yes. 39:07 Wes: Right. And we encounter that when we encounter the gaze. To have a. Have a gaze returned by an animal like that usually like, like our internal. Our entire psychological structure, what makes us self. Self conscious is the internalization of a human gaze. Right. To the extent that we. We get an animal gaze, I think we are returned to that more primal part of ourselves. And it does seem to me to have something to do with being reconciled to mortality. Right. Which is part of what the function of that dialogue between the elderly people is doing. 39:44 Erin: You're leading me into the one, say, reading of the moose that I wanted to get to. And I just want to say that I think the great thing about Bishop and about this poem and all her poems is that the moose is a moose. It's not a symbol. I hesitate to offer any kind of 40:03 Wes: direct reading, but that's her job on this podcast, though. 40:05 Erin: I know, I know. It's. Yeah. In the letters with Robert Lowell when he's writing to her about her poem at the fish houses, he says, alas, all my fish just become symbols. 40:16 Wes: Ah, very good. 40:17 Erin: I hesitate to reduce. I think what you've just said makes me think that it's the maternal, the mother. 40:25 Wes: Which also brings us back to the house. 40:28 Erin: Yes, the house. Yeah. It's something that comes like the clapboard churches, like clamshells seem to arise out of the ground, if you will, or are directly compared to these native creatures. The houses are then in turn used as comparisons for the moose, the maternal. The idea that this is something that returns us to nature, that this is the encounter that we would have presumably upon death. It's the loved one that is somehow comforting, maternal, and is a female moose. It's moose mom. I don't know. I don't know. Something going on there. 41:04 Wes: Moose mom. 41:05 Erin: Natural and strange at the same time, not us. And I guess that's why I. That's why I mentioned that the story of my grandfather at the beginning, because I don't know why I wanted so badly to see a moose right after my grandfather's death. But there was something, like, logical about it to me. And I was familiar with this poem, but I very much did not have. You know, it was not something that was the forefront of my mind at all. But I think there is this inherent connection, and it's silly. You know, I kind of can't believe I'm saying this, but I do. I do think there is this kind of connection between this desire that I felt to see this animal. Like the particular kind of primordial itch that the moose in particular seems to be scratching for me in that moment. For Bishop, in this poem, something that is at once safe and comforting and from another world, natural in that kind of elemental way. 42:00 Wes: Yeah. 42:01 Erin: That all kind of coalesce in that image. 42:04 Wes: Very good. 42:05 Erin: Okay. I think that's it, Wes. All we're left with is the dim smell of moose and an acrid smell of gasoline. 42:12 Wes: Oh, you know, we should have talked about that. Maybe we can start with that on our next Bishop recording. We'll. We'll begin with the smells, the smells and the significance of that image at the end. 42:25 Erin: Nice. 42:25 Wes: That smellage at the end. 42:26 Erin: Smellage. All right. Thank you. 42:29 Wes: Thank you.

A poem about a map opens North and South, the first collection of the great twentieth century poet Elizabeth Bishop, and since, maps have been associated with her poetic vision—at once telescoping and binocular—and with the polarities and preoccupations of her work. The map's privileged, sweeping, bird's eye view of the earth is also hand-held, man-made, intimate. Depending on its level of minuteness or obsession, it can contain the tiniest details as well as, let's say, the whole enchilada. And though it purports to be scientific and objective, it is representational and therefore subjective, particular, imaginative, and personal. For several episodes, Wes & Erin will be reading a selection of some of Bishop's most anthologized poems, starting with “The Moose” as expressions of, among other things, her map-like imagination. Upcoming Episodes: Nolan’s adaptation of “The Odyssey”; more Elizabeth Bishop poetry: “First Death in Nova Scotia,” “One Art.” Pre-order Erin’s forthcoming book “Avail” here: http://subtextpodcast.com/avail For bonus content, become a paid subscriber at Patreon or directly on the Apple Podcasts app. Patreon subscribers also get early access to ad-free regular episodes. This podcast is part of the Airwave Media podcast network. Visit AirwaveMedia.com to listen and subscribe to other Airwave shows like Good Job, Brain and Big Picture Science. Email advertising@airwavemedia.com to enquire about advertising on the podcast. Follow: Twitter | Facebook | Website Transcript 0:11 Erin: A poem about a map opens north and south, the first collection of the great 20th century poet Elizabeth Bishop. And since maps have been associated with her poetic vision, at once telescoping and binocular, and with the polarities and preoccupations of her work. The map's privileged, sweeping, bird's eye view of the earth is also handheld, man made intimate. Depending on its level of minuteness or obsession, it can contain the tiniest details as well as, let's say, the whole enchilada. And though it purports to be scientific and objective, it is representational and therefore subjective, particular, imaginative and personal. Over the next few episodes, we'll be reading a selection of some of Bishop's most anthologized poems, starting with the moose as expressions of, among other things, her map, like imagination. This is Erin O'Luanaigh. And this is Wes Alwan, and you're listening to Subtext. Wes, have you ever seen a moose in the wild? 1:12 Wes: I have not, but I have seen Instagram videos of them and people getting too close, and I've heard that they actually are quite dangerous. 1:23 Erin: Oh, perfectly harmless. 1:24 Wes: As cute as they look. So not safe as houses. Which is a very surprising line, unless you think that houses maybe aren't as safe as they seem or ought to be. But that's something we'll talk about later. How about you? 1:38 Erin: I have not. And I actually, it's become a running joke among certain friends of mine that I haven't seen a moose because I long to see a moose in the wild. This is my dearest wish. 1:52 Wes: Is that the first time anyone said that in history? I long to see. 1:56 Erin: I don't know. 1:57 Wes: It's a good first line for a poem, actually. Why do you long. Long to see a moose in the wild? 2:03 Erin: Really? Maybe because of the poem. I don't know. I just really want to, but I. Maybe this will become significant without getting too personal or maybe with getting too personal. With apologies to the listeners. Ten years ago now, when my grandfather passed that summer, my grandmother wanted to go up to Maine and revisit certain places that she had been with him. And we ended up going to Acadia. And I was so excited to see. Am just. I got it into my head that I had to go to Acadia and see a moose. And I even bought a sweatshirt. I'm not wearing it right now. I looked down to see if I was wearing it. It's the same size and shape as this one. This is a Yankees, 1996 World Series sweatshirt. 2:42 Wes: It's not a Rocky and Bullwinkle sweatshirt, is it? 2:45 Erin: No, no, no. It's an acadia and it has a. It has a mousse on it. And so I bought it the first day that I was there and I was like, this is my sweatshirt and it has a moose on it. And I'm gonna. I'm gonna see a moose. And I did not see a moose. And then I. I bought a moose sweatshirt in, I think Grand Teton, and I was like, I'm gonna see a moose. And I did not see a moose. And then I lived obviously many years in Utah, and things would happen. Everybody knew I wanted to see a moose. And I would go to these trails where you could see moose. And I would like be going up a trail and someone would be coming down saying, there are moose up there. We just saw a moose. You just saw baby moose. I'd get all upsided and I would. I would run up and it was gone and people would taunt me. 3:32 Wes: So you don't want to see like a magic white heart or something like that? 3:38 Erin: No, no, I just want to see him. Even the garden variety moose? No, no. Just a humble moose will hide itself from me when. When it knows that I am after it. 3:49 Wes: Because they are a goofy, right? Are they majestic? Are they goofy looking? Are they both? 3:55 Erin: I think they're both. And I think that kind of qual quality is really well captured in the poem. No, I mean that quality of if not being then looking safe as houses or being a gargantuan size, and yet having. I know this is a female moose, which I believe is called a cow, as opposed to a bull. Right. But the bulls, even their horns have that hand like quality to them. You know, it looks kind of like an outstretched hand. 4:22 Wes: Interesting. 4:24 Erin: Yeah. They're not majestic. 4:25 Wes: Yeah, I think that's important to the poem. It's not some obviously majestic creature, although it is large and there is majesty in it in the poem, but it's not the typical majesty that you can just get from, oh, look at this beautiful animal. 4:41 Erin: Yeah. And this is kind of why I brought up my grandfather. There was some connection for me as I think there is something quite personal going on with the moose at the end, other than the shared experience of everybody in the bus, all of that. Like there's something bigger than us, more than us, and yet familiar in a way. And it's magical in a sense, because to see it is kind of a rare thing. Yet it also comes out of the landscape that she's that she's grown up in and that she's part of. I think there's a. Yeah. A lot of interesting dualities going on. 5:17 Wes: Okay. So maybe you can read the whole thing and then you could give a little bit. Or we could give a little bit of the biographical background because this is a bus trip she actually took. Right. 5:26 Erin: Yeah. 5:27 Wes: The significance of Nova Scotia, which is where she's departing from in the poem and all of that stuff. But. Yeah. Do you want to start by reading? 5:35 Erin: Sure. The moose from narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides, where the bay leaves the sea twice a day and takes the herrings long rides where if the river enters or retreats in a wall of brown foam depends on if it meets the bay. Coming in the bay, not at home, where silted red sometimes the sun sets facing a red sea and others veins the flats. Lavender rich mud and burning rivulets. On red gravelly roads, down rows of sugar maples, past clapboard farmhouses and neat clapboard churches, bleached ridged as clam shells, past twin silver birches through late afternoon a bus journeys west, the windshield flashing pink, pink glancing off of metal, brushing the dented flank of blue beat up enamel, down hollows, uprises and waits patient, while a lone traveler gives kisses and embraces to seven relatives and the collie supervises goodbye to the elms, to the farm, to the dog. The bus starts. The light grows richer. The fog shifting, salty, thin, comes closing in. Its cold round crystals form and slide and settle in the white hen's feathers in gray glazed cabbages on the cabbage roses and lupins like apostles. The sweet peas cling to their wet white string on the whitewashed fences. Bumblebees creep inside the foxgloves and evening commences. One stop at Bass river, then the economies, lower middle, upper five islands. Five houses where a woman shakes a tablecloth out after supper. A pale flickering gone the Tantramar marshes and the smell of salt hay. An iron bridge trembles and a loose plank rattles but doesn't give way. On the left a red light swims through the dark. A ship's port lantern. Two rubber boots show illuminated, solemn. A dog gives one bark. A woman climbs in with two market bags. Brisk, freckled, elderly. A grand night. Yes, sir. All the way to Boston. She regards us amicably. Moonlight as we enter the New Brunswick woods. Hairy, scratchy, splintery moonlight and mist caught in them like lamb's wool. On bushes in a pasture the passengers lie back, snores some long sighs. A dreamy divagation begins in the night, a gentle auditory slow hallucination in the creakings and noises, an old conversation not concerning us but recognizable somewhere back in the bus, grandparents, voices uninterruptedly talking in eternity, names being mentioned. Things cleared up finally. What he said, what she said, who got pensioned. Deaths, deaths and sicknesses. The year he remarried, the year something happened, she died in childbirth. That was the son lost when the schooner foundered. He took to drink. Yes, she went to the bad when Amos began to pray, even in the store and finally the family had to put him away. Yes, that peculiar affirmative. Yes, a sharp indrawn breath, half grown, half acceptance. That means life's like that, we know it. Also death talking the way they talked in the old featherbed, peacefully on and on, dim lamplight in the hall, down in the kitchen, the dog tucked in her shawl. Now it's all right now, even to fall asleep, just as on all those nights. Suddenly the bus driver stops with a jolt, turns off his lights. A moose has come out of the impenetrable wood and stands there, looms rather in the middle of the road. It approaches, it sniffs at the bus's hot hood, towering antlerless, high as a church, homely as a house or safe as houses, a man's voice assures us, perfectly harmless. Some of the passengers exclaim in whispers, childishly, softly, sure are big creatures. It's awful plain. Look, it's a she. Taking her time. She looks the bus over, grand, otherworldly. Why. Why do we feel. We all feel the sweet sensation of joy? Curious creatures, says our quiet driver, rolling his Rs. Look at that, would you? Then he shifts gears for a moment longer by craning backward. The moose can be seen on the moonlit McAdam. Then there's a dim smell of moose, an acrid smell of gasoline. 11:05 Wes: Thank you. Very nice. It's really great to hear it spoken out loud. Spoken is the wrong word. It's the word read, performed. Do you want to say anything about the form of the poem before I ask you about some of the autobiographical background? 11:22 Erin: Yeah. Short lines, six line stanzas, 20, I believe. 28 stanzas in all. Irregularly rhymed, should we say? Kind of like a lot of bishop, you know, we get A, B, C. Then sometimes not rhymed where you might expect. So the rhymes peek their heads out and then. And then recede. Chatty a little bit in places, lots of repetitions of words. But that. That's something we could talk about More. But, yeah, kind of. Kind of mysterious form. One of the best things I've ever heard or read, I guess, about Bishop was by Michael Hoffman, who wrote quite a bit about her. And he said that it seems as though every time Bishop is writing, whether in form or in a kind of nonce form that she's creating, that she seems to be just inventing every form, like from scratch. You know, there's no blueprint. She doesn't have a familiar style in which she writes or particular kind of verse form that she seems to gravitate to. And when she writes, you know, a sistina or a villanelle or a sonnet or something like that, it seems like she's almost inventing the form as she goes along. And in this instance, there's a real. I keep wanting to say homemade after Crusoe in England. But, yeah, I think that's maybe what he was trying to get at, that homemade quality, that sort of bespoke kind of quality. And in the places where the rhyme goes in and out, I think that's really exemplified. 12:53 Wes: Well, it better be bespoke. She took forever to write it. 12:55 Erin: Yeah, that's right. She started this in, I think, 1946. 13:01 Wes: And then she finished it when this 13:04 Erin: was published in Geography 3. So she finished it in the 70s. 13:07 Wes: Okay. 13:08 Erin: Geography 3 came out in 1977. And this must have been published before then, individually, perhaps in the New Yorker, I think. Oh, geography three is 76. I would say maybe 72 is the date that comes to mind. Don't quote me on that. 13:24 Wes: Do we know why it took her so long? Obviously, she put it down for a couple days here and there. 13:29 Erin: It was the July 15th issue, 1972. So close to the day that we're recording. Why did it take her so long? She just worked on things forever and ever and ever. You see it, if you read. I highly recommend to listeners that they Get Words in Air. A very, very thick book of all the letters between Bishop and her friend Robert Lowell. You see her bringing up things or even mentioning in a description that she's writing to Lowell in a letter, a line that will later show up in a poem. Yeah. Low rate of productivity is great to. 14:08 Wes: You know, I can relate to that. 14:11 Erin: I take it as my model, honestly. Like, you know, live. Live Large and die with a slim Collected is kind of a. 14:19 Wes: Kind of a great Monroe Doctrine. But call it. What's another name? Bishpro. 14:28 Erin: That's right. 14:29 Wes: Is it right that she was forced to complete it because she agreed to read it this is something for deadlines. Right. At Harvard's Phi Beta Kappa ceremony. 14:38 Erin: I didn't know that. I know she read it at that ceremony, but I didn't know that that's what. The impetus for completing it. But that doesn't surprise me. 14:45 Wes: Yeah. So deadlines help every once in a while. 14:47 Erin: Absolutely, absolutely. 14:49 Wes: And then biographically. Right. This is based on a trip that she actually took, and she. She'd been to visit relatives in Nova Scotia and then came back on this bus trip. And the. There really was a moose. There really was a collie. Seven relatives for the rest of it. Yeah, yeah. Seven else. 15:11 Erin: Yeah, yeah. The specificity and all of it's. You know, there is a kind of like a photo realism, not just in the style, but in the. You know, we could sort of be certain that these things happened the way that she is recording them somehow, and yet she's spinning it into something more than just reportage. 15:30 Wes: So she was raised partly by her grandparents in Great Village, Nova Scotia. Right. Her. Her father had died in infancy and her mother was institutionalized. 15:41 Erin: That's right, yeah. 15:41 Wes: She aged at. When she was 5. 15:43 Erin: That's right. 15:44 Wes: So it's important just because. Yeah. The bus is leaving Nova Scotia, but go. Go ahead. 15:48 Erin: Yeah, it is important. She was born in 1911 in Worcester, Massachusetts, and she's buried there. I've seen her grave up there. It has a line or two lines from the bite on her tombstone. All the untidy activity continues. Awful but cheerful. Yeah. So she was born in 1911. Her father died, I think, of Bright's disease when she was 8 months old. And then her mother was institutionalized when she was 5, and she never saw her again. She didn't die until the 30s, I think, while Bishop was at Vassar. 16:23 Wes: Do we know what she was institutionalized for? Mental illness in general? 16:28 Erin: Yes. I don't know exactly what. In a short story of Bishop's, she describes as her. A scream coming from her mother. And whatever was wrong was exacerbated by her husband's death. And so then Elizabeth was left to be raised by her grandparents in Nova Scotia who were quite poor. And I guess she was kind of running around barefoot on the farm and stuff like that. And her father's family were very wealthy, and so when they came up to visit Elizabeth, they were, I guess, horrified by the fact that she was just like, you know, running around, hanging out with farm animals. And they took her to. Back with him to Worcester, and she was very unhappy there. Very ill child. She had asthma and eczema. And really, like, I think almost died of both at one time or other, very unhappy. And then eventually she moved to an aunt's house in, I want to say, in Revere, Massachusetts, and she was a little happier there. And then she went to Vassar, and I've been to the Vassar campus to see various buildings associated with Bishop and also to see. They did a really fabulous exhibition of her postcards at the Vassar Library a couple of years ago, which I really loved, seeing her hand and her little. In jokes and asides and really amazing to see. Anyway, at Vassar, the librarian there set up a meeting between Bishop and Marianne Moore, who became a mentor to her. They were very close. And then also over the course of her life, she was very close with and had an important friendship with Lowell. Hence the enormous book of letters. I have it here. It's so heavy I could barely pick it up. But this is a great book. It's kind of like an epistolary novel. Yeah. And she was. I think it's important to say, too, that she was a lesbian who had a very long relationship with a Brazilian architect named Lota de Mecedo Soares, who was her partner in Brazil for 15 years. She lived down there, known for travel. A lot of her collections, whether it's Geography three, which is the most obvious one, or north and south, have. There are a lot of Brazilian pumps. There are a lot of geographical poems. The first poem in her first collection, north and south, was the Map, which is often read as a kind of ars poetica. She's known for these types of, you know, sweeping landscapes that the moose begins with, and an interest in landscape and in this kind of bird's eye view. But then also you get these telescoping details, like a cinematic close up interspersed. Much is made of that in Bishop, of that kind of vision of hers, and specifically of, I don't know, the idea that she creates these. These beautiful miniatures, which is true, but maybe sometimes can be a little. I mean, she's revered, as she should be, and she's one of the most popular poets and she also has a great ear and she has so many other great things going on. So I don't want to exclusively focus on that kind of visual element, though it's there and it's very rich. 19:43 Wes: So from narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea. That's a very good opener. Why are they narrow provinces? And what is the. What are the fish and bread and tea doing? Fish and bread sounds vaguely like it could be a biblical reference, but maybe it's not. But you add tea. Right. There's something mundane here and perhaps restricted, provincial. And that's what she's going to be departing from. I mean, well, begins with the tides, but. 20:12 Erin: Yeah, right. Yeah, that's right. Narrow in a few kinds of ways. Because there's a strange. Because of the Bay of Fundy, there's almost that like U shaped corridor of land around it. So Nova Scotia is kind of narrow. And then up into. Then there's the narrow isthmus. I don't know, I don't know if I'm using that word correctly. Up into New Brunswick. Yeah, so there's something maybe a little, I don't want to say spiritually narrow, maybe somewhat limited or like practical. Practical and, you know, just the necessities and a place we learn that that is. That maybe has to be stalwart in response to the vagaries of the water around it. The Bay of Fundy, I was reading online, the tide, over the course of just one tide, can rise and fall 50ft because the bay is like a giant funnel. When it goes out, it just leaves this vast, open, muddy plain basically behind it. 21:16 Wes: She portrays this very beautifully. We get the image of the tide retreating and then the flats that are being illuminated by the setting sun as burning rivulets. And then there's almost a transition into the bus ride when she says on red gravelly roads, eventually the subject of that is going to be the bus. Although in the beginning, before we get to the bus, it looks like the rivulets have almost become roads. So you almost get the sense like the tides come in and it's going to go further inward, it's going to go all the way to Boston, but it's going to become the inhabitants of the bus who are much like the herrings. Right. In the first stanza. The herrings on the tides take herrings on long rides. So it's almost as if as the tide comes in, she is caught in the tide and brought along with it towards her destination. 22:08 Erin: That's right, yeah. And the bay itself, the water itself is also like a traveler, you know, you might go to visit it and find it's not at home, it's gone out for on a trip or something. So there's also that connection as well. Whereas the roads are part of this more solid and dependable and the water being fickle and not always depended on to be there. 22:31 Wes: Well, I was going to say there's something very poignant about the way she describes the tides and whether they're in or out. And I can't put my finger on it exactly. It's almost. It's this idea of. Right. Where if the river enters or retreats in a wall of brown foam depends on if it meets the bay. Coming in the bay, not at home. If the tide is in or coming in the river clashes with it in a wall of brown foam. Is that the idea now? And what's the image there? Is it always a wall of brown foam? Well, either way, I just. Something about this idea of. It depends on whether the bay is at home or something like that. It's a poignant image. 23:12 Erin: It is. It's that sense of just. Of disappointment or just missing someone, like a missed opportunity. Seems kind of surprisingly emotionally resonant, considering that she's talking about a tide. 23:25 Wes: And we. You know, it introduces the idea of home and. Which I think will be significant. And later on we'll talk about whether the moose is safe as houses and the reflections of the elderly and all that stuff. But. 23:40 Erin: And boundaries, too, right. You have very slippery boundary between the bay and the. And the sea, between the rivers and the bay that feeds them. And I think that boundary very much plays into the idea of home. And you could say that the bus seems to be a part of that too. Right. Like the bus becomes the home. So there's a little bit of the slippery idea of this transposition of home life into the bus, or the people on the bus all becoming the. We like a family within it. The way that it can literally cross national boundaries. It's going to Boston across the border. 24:18 Wes: Yeah. And then they'll be observing provincial life, I guess, from within the bus. And. And, you know, a woman shaking out an apron, for instance, or home life. But, yeah, I had the same thought to you. The bus. The interior of the bus becomes its own kind of mobile home, I guess. I guess the wall brown foam part. There's that push and pull, or it's a matter of who's doing the pushing. Right. In one case, the brown foam. The wall of brown foam is caused as. As the river pushes on the retreating tide. And the other case, it's the tide pushing back against the river as it comes in. But in either case, there's a clash there. 24:58 Erin: Then there are places, though, where there's blurring of boundaries. Like one of my favorite lines in the whole poem, the idea of the churches as ridged as clamshells. She always takes that. This is much remarked upon among scholars of Bishop. Where you get the thing that's. That's really big, suddenly reduced in size to the handheld, but coming out of the same idiom. You know, both the clamshell and this clapboard church are in a way equally native to Nova Scotia. The brilliance of connecting those two things and fishing being an industry in the area, you know, sort of springing out of the fishing industry. 25:42 Wes: Yeah. And shells are what's left as the tide retreats. Right. As it's as if the houses are just the natural residue of a retreating tide. 25:52 Erin: That's great. 25:52 Wes: From the beginning of the poem, there's a sense of momentum, and almost like you, at least in my case, I felt like I'm on a camera moving over the landscape, and it starts with the tide, and then it moves to the burning rivulets. Right. So now we're hovering over. I don't know what you would call it, a. A tidal plane. Anyway, she calls it the flats. Right. So all the silt, and we're moving along there, and then suddenly we're on a gravelly road. So the sun takes over from the sea. The redness of the sun. And then the bus takes over from the sun. But that's the momentum of the poem is from sea to sun to bus. 26:37 Erin: Yeah. The bus flashes pink. We get lots of pairs of the same word, creating a kind of chime with each other. So we get the windshield flashing pink. Pink glancing off of metal. And we wonder, I suppose, because part of the reason why the roads are red is because of the clay content. Right. Of the road itself. So we get that combination of, like, something red in the road or in the composition of the soil and rock of the area. 27:07 Wes: Laterite, I think, which I only know because of Graham Green, who I've been reading. Oh, and what heart of the matter. He's talking about laterite houses, like. So from the red clay, you can make, you know, homes from as well, and common in Sierra Leone. So he used the word like a hundred times before he finally looked it up. All right. There must be something that's going to not know what he's talking about. I'm like, oh, okay, now I get it. Yeah. 27:41 Erin: So that's the mineral, the. 27:44 Wes: It's reddish. Yeah. Reddish clay type of soil, topsoil or something like that. I should know more about this because I used to write about this, too, when I was writing about transportation and engineering. 27:56 Erin: Right. 27:57 Wes: It's important what kind of soil you're building on. But anyway, I remember nothing about that. But, yeah. So it could be the right word. Who knows? But. But, yeah. So you're getting at the. Yeah. The way the redness of the sun is interacting with the. 28:12 Erin: Yes, it's coming. 28:13 Wes: The redness of the soil. 28:14 Erin: Yeah. And that kind of redness coming from below and above to glint off of the bus. The windshield is flashing pink from the sun and the metal is flashing pink from the road. They're both brushing the dented flank of the blue beat up enamel from one direction or the other, it seems. Yeah. Sort of tunnel of red in which the. In which the bus is traveling. 28:41 Wes: Such a vivid image that she gives us. It made me think, you know, sometimes it's almost better than film. It's more vibrant or more. Don't know how to say it, but I was thinking about this because in some of the philosophy podcasts we do, there are philosophers who deny that we have imagery in our head. Exactly. Or we can never. Which seems true. Right. We can't imagine anything with the vividness that we would have if we actually saw it. But it makes me think when I read a poem like this, but also. And also reading some of the novels I've been reading. Well, there's a special kind of vividness to figurative language that perception can't capture. In some ways it's more. More vivid, definitely. 29:26 Erin: I think the sonic quality of the word, the repeated. Right. It's on the one hand a repeated image, but then it also creates that kind of just the soundscape, makes them feel somehow more synesthetic to say, but somehow more picturable or more tangible or more. I don't know, the pink glancing off metal, the dented flank beat up enamel. You know, there's just. It's like. I think that's contributing to it, to the vividness of the image. And yeah, you talked about momentum, too. I mean, this entire. This whole first sentence is six stanzas long. It ends with. And Akali supervises. So there's also that kind of. Yeah. Locomotive propulsion of the camera work, so to speak, Zooming in and then following the road into the bus. And then the bus arrives to sort of catch again, quite cinematically the scene that's actually happening or the place where the eye, if there is an eye in the poem, actually is the lone traveler embracing these relatives with the collie watching on. So there's a sense in which the I eye of the poem doesn't actually catch up with the speaker until stanza six and the end of this first sentence until we get goodbye to the elms, to the farm, to the dogs. So there's kind of lamination at that moment of the I eye and the capital I. 30:49 Wes: We seem to be gradually getting more of a point of view. Right. It's very omniscient in the beginning, hovering over the landscape. And I think gradually we're going to be getting a her point of view in the bus and then a we. But also just to note, this is one. I think this is the first of three pauses. Right. There's gonna. It's gonna pause here, the bus. The momentum is gonna stop as the bus lets on the lone traveler, which I presume is her. Right. Her saying goodbye. And then there'll be a pause when the amicable freckled woman gets on. She's there because we need everything to be in threes. And then we. Then we're gonna pause for the moose in the very end. I didn't miss anything. Right. There's not other places where we stop? 31:32 Erin: No. I mean, there are, of course, stanzas that end some more definitively than others and stopped with a period. There's a stop at Bass River. Right. So there is a little bit of that kind of start. Stop syntactically. But I think you're right that those are the stops where there's content. 31:49 Wes: Content goes. 31:50 Erin: Yes. And where there's a very particular. Yeah, the content of the bus, except for the moose obviously doesn't get on the bus. But there's a stop that's motivated, let's say, rather than just being described as various stops along the way where we don't know who got on and who got off or whatever. Certainly there's also a movement toward that more personal experience of the speaker. But then there are also things that the speaker couldn't possibly know or you know, because once she's said goodbye to everyone and gets on the bus, then we also get the sort of nature show close ups. The crystals of fog, the lupins like apostles, the sweet peasants clinging. One of my favorite parts, clinging to their wet white string on the whitewashed fences. Again, we get two uses of white right next to each other. Bumblebees creeping in the foxgloves. All things you really can't see from certainly from a moving bus. 32:43 Wes: Yeah, the point of view gets focused very, very gradually, maybe through the whole palm. Maybe it's not fully focused until the very end, but. Yeah. So you're pointing out something important which is at the sort of omniscient point of view is still here in these very. What do you call it when you take a close up with your phone? Macro, ironically. Yeah. These very close up pictures of flora and fauna and very Beautiful. 33:12 Erin: Yeah. They compound and then they get more and more loaded and mysterious. And just when we're about to maybe go over the edge, we get recalled back a little bit. That's at least how I'm reading, for instance, stanza 12, about the ship's port lantern and the boot and the bark of the dog. And then suddenly a woman climbs on the bus. And so we're sort of stopped from going off into some sort of train of thought that you could follow there down a rabbit hole. But I love that stanza on red light swimming through the dark. It reminds me of the last stanza of disillusionment, of 10 o'. Clock. Do you know the old sailor, drunk and asleep in his boots, catches tigers in red weather? I think that's how it goes, the Stevens bomb, because we get the boots and the red light in the ship, so they're probably. No. No real connection there. 34:07 Wes: So all of these little intricate descriptions that she's giving, right. It begins with the light growing richer, which I take it mean, means we're approaching dusk and evening, or we're in dusk and it's evening is approaching and a kind of mini winter, Right. Something. It's a diurnal cycle, but there's a bit of a parallel to something seasonal. Right. So we get crystals forming and the images like sweet peas clinging and the bumblebees inside foxgloves. As evening commences, it's almost like. I don't know if this is true, but it's almost as if we're getting the response of the animals and flora and fauna to the commencement of evening. That's our first indication of it. So I was surprised to see, okay, it's still light out enough for us to see a woman shaking a tablecloth out after supper. And that is beautifully described as a pale flickering. Right. Almost as if that's something like the light reflecting off the enamel bus, or not pink anymore, but just a flickering of pale light and then gone, I suppose. Does that mean that we're now without light? Is that sort of the way nighttime is ushered in by the end of the next stanza? And it's in the next stanza that we see a red light in the dark. Now we have a ship in the dark. So it's almost as if. Yeah, the shaking of the tablecloth is like a magician. Abracadabra. Now it's nighttime, Right? 35:39 Erin: Yeah. I love that. Yeah. You're making me realize how many connections there are to Keats in this poem. Right. There's something Keatsian about it, very. To Autumn, you get the sweet peas clinging on the fence. You get that image of fecundity things on top of other things. You know, the mossed cottage trees and the late flowers for the bees. And then the shaking out of the tablecloth is like the hair lifted by the winnowing wind. Right. Because there's. There's wind, there are flowers and bees. And then there's also, of course, redness and that image of, you know, like the evening. Autumn. Evening redness. And maybe this is. Yeah. Rows of sugar maples. Those could be red as well. If we're in an autumnal landscape, can't be too late because everything is, you know, it's got to be like August, maybe because we have this. Or. No, I guess maybe not. Gray glazed cabbages. I don't know enough about cabbages to know at what point in their development. 36:40 Wes: Yeah. Whatever season it is. I just think that the evening is almost like a mini winter. It gets colder and we see the. 36:46 Erin: Definitely. 36:47 Wes: We see the effects of it. But, yeah, maybe autumn is probably the logical season for. 36:53 Erin: Right. Yeah. And that point. Or that point in the transition from summer to autumn where, I mean, even on a summer night in Nova Scotia, the evening temperature is quite autumnal regardless. And so when the woman climbs on with the market bags, we get. 37:09 Wes: Shall we take a. Shall we? 37:12 Erin: Oh, yes. 37:13 Wes: Let's let the freckled amicable woman on in part two. 37:17 Erin: She'll have to wait. 37:18 Wes: Let's not let her on the bus yet. 37:20 Erin: You have to wait for everyone else to get off before you can get on. It's one of the cardinal rules of public transportation. Okay, we will continue in part two. Thank you. 37:29 Wes: Thank you.

Part of the late beloved Kiwi actor's legacy now hangs on the wall of Gore's Eastern Southland Gallery where he quietly donated artworks from his personal collection over the years.

Send us Fan MailSylvia Plath -- "I Am Vertical"Mary Oliver -- "In Blackwater Woods"Elizabeth Bishop -- "One Art"Pádraig Ó Tuama -- "The Facts of Life"

In this episode, we're once again joined by ONE ART: A Journal of Poetry's editor, Mark Danowsky to talk about how Katie and Mark began curating the yearly haiku anthology. We continue sharing some of the great poems curated in this years' anthology.At the Table:Katie DozierTimothy GreenMark Danowsky

In this episode, we're joined by ONE ART: A Journal of Poetry's editor, Mark Danowsky to talk about how Katie and Mark began curating the yearly haiku anthology. We share some of the great poems curated in this years' anthology.At the Table:Katie DozierTimothy GreenMark Danowsky

SLEERICKETS is a podcast about poetry and other intractable problems. My book Midlife now exists. Buy it here, or leave it a rating here or hereFor more SLEERICKETS, subscribe to SECRET SHOW, join the group chat, and send me a poem for Listener Crit!Leave the show a rating here (actually, just do it on your phone, it's easier). Thanks!Wear SLEERICKETS t-shirts and hoodies. They look good!SLEERICKETS is now on YouTube!For a frank, anonymous critique on SLEERICKETS, subscribe to the SECRET SHOW and send a poem of no more 25 lines to sleerickets [at] gmail [dot] com Some of the topics mentioned in this episode:– Order Brian's book The Optimists! It's so good!– Now give Brian's book a 5-star review!– My chapbook The Soft Black Stars is out now!– I'm reading this Saturday, March 14, at 6:00 p.m. at the Mettlesome Theater in Durham, NC– Brian's appearance on The Gist– The Mysterious Case of Gothic Verse Narratives by Brian Brodeur– Pre-order Sixteen Games of Hide and Seek by Stephen Bass and Steve Teare!– Sofia Kavlin Castaneda of Unsent Letterbox– Rosanna Oh– Sonnet 130– One Art by Elizabeth Bishop– Poetry by Joseph Harrison– Moira Egan– Joe Osterhaus– Robert Schreur– Sunil Iyengar– The Same City by Terrance Hayes– Maps by James Baker Hall– Michael Theune– Kim Noriega– Kim Addonizio– Poetry Says Ep 294. The American Ecstatic– Dan Kois– The Martin Chronicles– Lauren Wethers– Reclaiming Jane– Jordan Kisner– Thresholds– The Critic and Her Publics– Michele MosesFrequently mentioned names:– Joshua Mehigan– Shane McCrae– A. E. Stallings– Ryan Wilson– Morri Creech– Austin Allen– Jonathan Farmer– Zara Raab– Amit Majmudar– Ethan McGuire– Coleman Glenn– Chris Childers– Alexis Sears– JP Gritton– Alex Pepple– Ernie Hilbert– Joanna Pearson– Matt Wall– Steve Knepper – Helena Feder– David Yezzi– Victoria Moul– Katie Dozier & Tim Green– George David Clark– Tristram Fane Saunders– Philip MetresOther Ratbag Poetry Pods:Poetry Says by Alice AllanI Hate Matt Wall by Matt WallVersecraft by Elijah Perseus BlumovRatbag Poetics By David Jalal MotamedAlice: In Future PostsBrian: @BPlatzerCameron: Minor TiresiasMatthew: sleerickets [at] gmail [dot] comMusic by ETRNLArt by Daniel Alexander Smith

Liza Moore reads her poem "Under Van Gogh's Stars," and Johanna Caton, O.S.B., reads her poem "Little Dog" from our current Winter issue. Liza Moore is an artist and storyteller who resides with her husband and son in Round Rock, TX. She has created three children's books, and some of her artwork, poetry, and essays have been published in various journals, including Fathom Mag, Ekstasis Magazine, EcoTheo Review, Apple Valley Review, Thimble Lit Mag, Humana Obscura, St. Katherine Review, and Calla Press. To learn more about Liza and her creative work, please visit https://campsite.bio/liza_moore_art.Johanna Caton, O.S.B, is a Benedictine nun of Minster Abbey, in Kent, England. Her poems have appeared in a number of publications, including The Christian Century, St. Austin Review, Ekphrastic Review, Amethyst Review, One Art, Today's American Catholic, Fathom, Fare Forward, Windhover, The Catholic Poetry Room, and in two anthologies published by Amethyst Press: All Shall be Well, Poems for Julian of Norwich and Thin Places and Sacred Spaces. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee.

They weren't invisible. They had 40,000 followers, a podcast, email subscribers, influencer collabs and a full marketing team. And they were still stuck at the same revenue ceiling month after month. In this episode, Savannah breaks down a full client case study of an art publishing brand that went from $100-120K in monthly sales to $367,000 in December — without a bigger audience, without new products, without more content. Just two or three messaging changes that completely shifted how their audience bought. She walks through the exact four pillars that drove the results so you can take them and apply them to your own marketing right now: Why your current strategy has a revenue ceiling — and how to break it  How market research told them exactly what their audience needed to hear to buy  Why selling the transformation instead of the product changes everything  Apply to work with Savannah HERE: http://bit.ly/applywlfpodcast or DM her on Instagram @itssavannahjordan ( / itssavannahjordan ) with your takeaway. client case study, messaging strategy, revenue growth, art brand marketing, doubling sales, marketing psychology, 2026 business strategy, scaling without more content

「One Art Taipei 2026」正式開幕！這場匯聚 60 家海內外畫廊的藝術盛事，不僅展現了多元的藝術風格，更是年輕藝術家展現才華的重要舞台。藝博會的核心價值在於提供一個平台，讓具備潛力的年輕藝創者不因養分不足而埋沒，也讓新進收藏家有機會在早期發掘未來的藝術巨將。對於初入收藏領域的聽眾，本集提供了資深畫廊挑選藝術家的三大標準：鮮明獨特的個人風格、經得起推敲的思想論述，以及最重要的「緣分」。畫廊如同橋樑，牽起藝術家與藏家的手，讓有緣人能遇見心儀的作品。本屆藝博會，無論您是想鍛鍊審美能力、規劃家庭空間，或是尋求具潛力的收藏標的，這場僅限三天的藝術盛宴絕對不容錯過！

本集邀請到朝代畫廊的負責人，同時也是本屆《ONE ART Taipei 藝術台北》的會長劉忠河先生，一同深度探討即將在 JR 東日本大飯店登場的《ONE ART Taipei 藝術台北》。在台灣藝壇，大師級展覽如賈科梅蒂（Giacometti)、米羅（Miró）、塞尚（Cézanne）的大型雕塑展固然重要，但藝術的傳承與市場發展，更需仰賴年輕藝術家。然而，大型博覽會成本高昂，年輕藝術家難以負擔，因此飯店型藝博會《ONE ART Taipei 藝術台北》應運而生。劉忠河會長回憶，ONE ART Taipei 始於 2009 年，由幾位畫廊經營者共同創辦，目的就是為了搭建一個基礎的階梯與平台，讓新生代藝術家有上場的機會。ONE ART Taipei 這屆已邁入第 8 年，將於 2026年1 月 16 號至 18 號舉行，共有 60 家畫廊參展，包含台灣、日本、韓國及香港的畫廊。這個「甜蜜點」般的規模，既熱鬧又利於資源分配。這場 ONE ART Taipei 不僅是藝術圈的盛事，更是您了解藝術脈動、鍛鍊審美能力、並開啟收藏傳承的最佳機會

It's the most recognizable TV theme in America. But Jeopardy's “Think Music” wasn't originally written for a game show… It was written for a toddler. In this episode, we trace the unlikely journey of the Jeopardy theme, from Merv Griffin's living room to over 10,000 episodes across six decades. Along the way, we explore the show's sonic evolution, including honking buzzers, 80s synths, and orchestral remixes. Featuring Lisa Broffman, Jeopardy's Consulting Co-Executive Producer.This episode was written & produced by Casey Emmerling.Visit the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History to see some of the Jeopardy objects we have in the collection. MUSIC FEATURED IN THIS EPISODEHarry Endivo - Don't Bore Me Alberto!Medité - This Round's On MeFlickering - The SquadAndreas Dahlbäck - 808 or 909Trevor Kowalski - Watercolor Motion IGavin Luke - The Power of One Art by Michael Zhang.This episode of Twenty Thousand Hertz is part of our summer playlist to keep you entertained while Sidedoor is on summer break. We'll be back in the fall with brand new episodes of Sidedoor.

Dave makes Snickerdoodles as their name implies: with Snickers. He then brings the...interesting... results to an interview with Samin Nosrat, author of Salt Fat Acid Heat and new cookbook Good Things, and her co-host of Home Cooking and host of Song Exploder, Hrishikesh Hirway, where the trio discusses successful partnerships, perfectionism, and what the future of creative endeavors looks like. Dave finishes with a home food hack: how to make a delicious and dazzling dumpling skirt. Dave also announces the inaugural Ask Dave prize package winner. Send yours in for a chance to win! Send in your Ask Dave questions to bit.ly/AskDaveForm or askdave@majordomomedia.com. Learn more about Samin: https://ciaosamin.com/ Learn more about Hrishikesh: https://hrishikesh.co/ Follow Samin on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ciaosamin/?hl=en Follow Hrishikesh on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hrishihirway/ Learn more about Samin's upcoming tour stops: https://ciaosamin.com/appearances Check out Samin's new book Good Things: https://www.amazon.com/Good-Things-Recipes-Rituals-Cookbook/dp/1984857789?&linkCode=sl1&tag=majordomotv-20&linkId=93c3c814fceac98da6ed148e9a0e2885&language=en_US&ref_=as_li_ss_tl Check out Samin's new Substack, A Grain of Salt here: https://ciaosamin.substack.com/ Check out the Home Cooking podcast: https://homecooking.show/ Check out Hrishikesh on Recipe Club: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RECn7sAhFsM Check out the Song Exploder podcast: https://songexploder.net/ Check out Hrishikesh's Netflix show Song Exploder: https://www.netflix.com/title/80992997 Check out Samin's Netflix show Salt Fat Acid Heat: https://www.netflix.com/title/80198288 Check out Hrishikesh on Recipe Club: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RECn7sAhFsM   Check out GoodBoyNoah's Snickerdoodles recipe: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DDX07Uwp0gc/?hl=en   Learn more about Hillstone Restaurant Group: https://hillstone.com/   Learn more about Bibigo Mandu: https://www.bibigousa.com/collections/dumplings Read The New Yorker profile on Momofuku Ssam Bar: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2006/10/16/momofuku-ssam-bar   Learn more about Benton's Ham: https://www.bentonscountryham.com/ Read the Kyle Chayka article Samin and Hrishikesh mention: https://www.theguardian.com/news/2024/jan/16/the-tyranny-of-the-algorithm-why-every-coffee-shop-looks-the-same Learn more about Kismet: https://www.kismetla.com/ Learn more about Calif Chicken Cafe: https://www.califchickencafe.com/   Learn more about Sarah Kieffer's pan-banging cookie: https://www.thevanillabeanblog.com/pan-banging-chocolate-chip-cookies/   Learn more about the coconut water soup stock recipe Samin mentions: https://food52.com/recipes/78595-yi-jun-loh-s-one-pot-coconut-water-abc-soup?srsltid=AfmBOorwKoG734T0MjFc6sn5fnE23snRZiM4nHUxMzP2St5iNFh2hMiP Learn more about Samin testing her coffee: https://ciaosamin.substack.com/p/some-notes-on-cold-brew-coffee-testing   Learn more about the book Hrishikesh mentioned: https://www.amazon.com/Conversations-Walter-Murch-Editing-Film/dp/0375709827?&linkCode=sl1&tag=majordomotv-20&linkId=0fc3ede5b2d6402a7d33b4ac3b079157&language=en_US&ref_=as_li_ss_tl Watch Hrishikesh talk about the poem One Art: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylcxKnn32D0   Learn more about Asian Legend Toronto, which inspired the mandu lattice tip: https://www.asianlegend.ca/home.php Subscribe to the show on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@thedavechangshow. Subscribe to Recipe Club on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@recipeclubofficial. Submit your favorite food moments in your favorite movies to majorfoodporn.com. Join our community Discord on majordomo.com. Free Grubhub+. It's on Prime. *Additional terms apply* Host: Dave Chang Guests: Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway Majordomo Media Producer: David Meyer and Kelsey Rearden  Spotify Producer: Felipe Guilhermino Editor: Stefano Sanchez Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

If you've been around art in the last several decades or so, you likely have heard the term “institutional critique.” This is a genre of art that turns the lens back  onto the world around the art object as its subject, finding playful or polemical ways to provoke thought on art's unspoken rules and expectations and links to the wider world. Andrea Fraser is one of the artists who has most helped define “institutional critique” as a genre and as a practice. She has done this in artworks that sometimes look like performances, or lectures, or works of research—but also in her essays and theoretical writings. One of her recent essays, “The Field of Contemporary Art: A Diagram,” published over at e-Flux Notes, is an attempt literally to map out how contemporary art is not one thing but a landscape of different competing camps and value systems, so that you might figure out where you stand within it. She calls this theory “a resource to make sense of a field that makes no sense,” and she agreed to talk to art critic Ben Davis about it.  

If you've been around art in the last several decades or so, you likely have heard the term “institutional critique.” This is a genre of art that turns the lens back  onto the world around the art object as its subject, finding playful or polemical ways to provoke thought on art's unspoken rules and expectations and links to the wider world. Andrea Fraser is one of the artists who has most helped define “institutional critique” as a genre and as a practice. She has done this in artworks that sometimes look like performances, or lectures, or works of research—but also in her essays and theoretical writings. One of her recent essays, “The Field of Contemporary Art: A Diagram,” published over at e-Flux Notes, is an attempt literally to map out how contemporary art is not one thing but a landscape of different competing camps and value systems, so that you might figure out where you stand within it. She calls this theory “a resource to make sense of a field that makes no sense,” and she agreed to talk to art critic Ben Davis about it.  

Today's poem is One Art by Elizabeth Bishop. Last spring, we asked our community to submit poems that have helped you slow down in your lives. This week we're revisiting these selections. Today's selection was submitted by Doug from Minnesota. In this episode, Major writes… “Today's iconic poem inflects so much psychological truth and honest emotion in the wake of a parting; the hard pain must be worked through.” Celebrate the power of poems with a gift to The Slowdown today. Every donation makes a difference: https://tinyurl.com/rjm4synp

Reposted from Murder Magnets: A Poker Face Podcast, which you can find at https://podcastica.com/podcast/murder-magnets-a-poker-face-podcast  — It's a full house this week to tackle Charlie's latest adventure in the cutthroat land of New York City real estate. Join Penny, Becky, Jason, and special guests Jen and Rob to talk it out. Next up: Poker Face S2E10 “The Big Pump.” Let us know your thoughts! You can email or send a voice message to bullshit@podcastica.com.  Or check out our Facebook group, where we put up comment posts for each episode, at facebook.com/groups/podcastica. Links: Check out Rob's art and articles on AI: ROBGON.COM Dirge Without Music by Edna St. Vincent Millay: https://poets.org/poem/dirge-without-music  This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/56159/this-is-just-to-say  One Art by Elizabeth Bishop: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47536/one-art  Check out all our other shows at podcastica.com.  Check out Becky's podcast “What's On Tonight” at https://www.facebook.com/people/Whats-On-Tonight/61566882612402/  Show support and get ad-free episodes and a bunch of other cool stuff: patreon.com/jasoncabassi  Or go to buymeacoffee.com/cabassi for a one-time donation. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Linda Laderman reads her poem "How you go on about the other woman," and Ryan Harper reads his poems "Atonia, Eve of St. Mark" and "Early Easter." Linda Laderman is a Michigan poet. Her poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals, including The Burningword Literary Journal, MER, SWWIM, ONE ART, Rust & Moth, Minyan, and Action-Spectacle. She is a past recipient of Harbor Review's Jewish Women's Prize and was a Pushcart nominee. Her micro-chapbook What I Didn't Know I Didn't Know can be found at www.harbor-review.com/what-i-didnt-know-i-didnt-know.Ryan Harper is an Assistant Professor of the Practice at Fairfield University-Bellarmine in Bridgeport, Connecticut. The author of My Beloved Had a Vineyard, winner of the 2017 Prize Americana in poetry (Poetry Press of Press Americana, 2018), Ryan has had recent poems and essays in Portland Review, Third Wednesday, Thirteen Bridges, Paperbark, and elsewhere. Ryan is the creative arts editor of American Religion Journal.

In this episode of the Reformed Journal Podcast, the poetry edition, Rose Postma interviews Taylor Mallay about her poem “Every Sunday Morning.” Mallay is a poet and nonfiction writer from Michigan. Her work has previously appeared in Chestnut Review, One Art, and The Dewdrop, among others.

Planet Poet-Words in Space – NEW PODCAST!  LISTEN to my WIOX show (originally aired February 11th, 2025) featuring poet Tina Barry on her spellbinding new book, I Tell Henrietta.  Kristin Flynn, the artist who created the intense, expressive cover and interior art for I Tell Henrietta also joins us on the show.  Visit:Tina Barry at Tina Barry writer and  Kristin Flynn at https://www.kristinflynn.art   Praise for I Tell Henrietta"Tina Barry's astonishing collection I Tell Henrietta explores thresholds between the dream world and wakefulness and between poetry and prose... " ---- Mary Biddinger, author of Department of Elegy"Tina Barry's startling and eclectic I Tell Henrietta pushes the hybrid aesthetic envelope forward....Suffused with astute observation, memory and crystalline imagery, Barry's collection is a must-read for those who love small works containing multitudes"----  Nathan Leslie, editor of Best Small Fictions, author of Hurry Up and RelaxTina Barry is a textile designer turned poet, short-fiction writer and editor. She is the author of I Tell Henrietta (Aim Higher, Inc., 2024) with art by Kristin Flynn, Beautiful Raft and Mall Flower (Big Table Publishing, 2019 and 2016).Her writing can be found in Rattle, Verse Daily, ONE ART: a journal of poetry, SWWIM, The Indianapolis Review, The Best Small Fictions 2020 (spotlighted story) and 2016, and elsewhere. Tina has five Pushcart Prize nominations and several Best of the Net and Best Microfiction nods. She teaches at The Poetry Barn and Writers.com. Kristin Flynn earned a BFA in fashion design from Parsons School of Design, an AAS degree in Textiles from Rochester Institute of Technology, and studied painting at Marylhurst University in Portland, Oregon. Her paintings and drawings have been exhibited in numerous group and solo shows, including the Cheryl McGinnis Gallery, Stone Ridge Center for the Arts, Jane Street Gallery Studio 89, Brick Gallery, Kingston Museum of Contemporary Art, and Bard College. 

「ONE ART Taipei 2024 藝術台北」是亞太指標型飯店藝術博覽會之一，讓參展畫廊將他們代理的藝術家們推上國際舞台，也讓更多藏家可以挖到珍貴的原石。​「ONE ART Taipei 2024 藝術台北」已有超過一萬五千人次參與，這次的「ONE ART Taipei 2025 藝術台北」希望延續2024熱潮，再次整合亞太地區的藝術產業，推動台灣藏家與國際藏家交流，吸引更多參觀人潮並創佳績。​這次我們邀請到的是也趣藝廊 亞太連線執行會長 王瑞棋來跟我們聊聊，在陸續這幾年中的 ONE ART Taipei 藝術台北所觀察到的台灣藝術界面貌的變化 會長與我們分享，在這幾年的展會之中，他髓觀察到的藝術家的參與度、畫廊的豐富程度逐漸的升溫，也看見台灣藝術界的活絡。另外，也與我們分享了不同場地間舉辦所發生的趣事。詳細內容請收聽本集《藝術ＡＢＣ》。 ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆藏家預展2025年01月10日（五） 13:00-19:00貴賓預展2025年01月10日（五） 15:00-19:00公眾開放2025年01月11日（六） 11:00-19:002025年01月12日（日） 11:00-19:00活動地點:JR東日本大飯店 台北(台北市中山區南京東路三段133號)╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆╭★╭♬ ╭☆      

In this episode of the poetry edition, Rose Postma interviews Olga Dugan about her poem “The Writer.” Olga Dugan is a Cave Canem poet. Nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart prizes, her award-winning poems appear in many literary journals and anthologies including Ekstasis, Spirit Fire Review, Relief: A Journal of Art and Faith, The Windhover, Agape Review, ONE ART, Litmosphere (forthcoming), The Write Launch, Ariel Chart, The Sunlight Press, Emerge, Kweli, Sky Island Journal, evolution: The Red Moon Anthology of English-Language Haiku, and the Munster Literature Centre's Poems from Pandemia – An Anthology.

●YouTube影片● https://voh.psee.ly/6j47af ●FB粉專影片 ● https://voh.pse.is/6j47ej 本集主題：木雕工藝 訪問：黃文 畢業學校：大葉大學 經歷： 2018 新一代設計展 2018 剝皮寮畢業聯展 2018 反展櫃 師生聯展 2019 我有一把刀 聯展 2019 參與木雕藝術研習-薪傳組 2020 ONE ART Taipei 藝博聯展/台北 2021 成立個人工作室 2021 台南藝術博覽會/ 遠東國際大飯店/ 台南 2021 ONE ART Taipei 藝博聯展/西華飯店/台北 2022 ONE ART藝術博覽會/西華飯店/台北 2023 僑成國小木雕課程講師 2023 發芽．木雕小小兵創作營擔任講師 #李基銘 #李基銘主持人#fb新鮮事#生活有意思#快樂玩童軍 #廣播之神#廣播之神李基銘#漢聲廣播電台 YouTube頻道，可以收看 https://goo.gl/IQXvzd podcast平台，可以收聽 SoundOn　https://bit.ly/3oXSlmF Spotify　https://spoti.fi/2TXxH7V Apple　https://apple.co/2I7NYVc KKBOX　https://bit.ly/2JlI3wC Firstory　https://bit.ly/3lCHDPi 請支持粉絲頁 廣播之神：  / voh.god  李基銘主持人粉絲頁：  / voh.lee  李基銘的影音頻道粉絲頁：  / voh.video  -- Hosting provided by SoundOn

Today's poem is One Art by Elizabeth Bishop. This spring, we asked our community to submit poems that have helped you slow down in your lives. Thank you to the nearly 300 of you who sent us poems to read and enjoy. This week we're featuring the team's selections. Today's selection was submitted by Doug from Minnesota. In this episode, Major writes… “Today's iconic poem inflects so much psychological truth and honest emotion in the wake of a parting; the hard pain must be worked through.” Celebrate the power of poems with a gift to The Slowdown today. Every donation makes a difference: https://tinyurl.com/rjm4synp

Shout out to Penola! One Art by Elizabeth Bishop Mary Gilmore John Shaw Neilson The Penguin Anthology of Australian Poetry edited by John Kinsella The Personal Element in Australian Poetry by James McAuley Harold Stewart Christopher Brennan Ep 244. on Charles Harpur Love's Coming by John Shaw Neilson The Hour of Parting by John Shaw … Continue reading "Ep 275. The blue smoke of the mind"

We revisit our episode with Sabaa Tahir.******"This is happening in our world and at the very least you can bear witness to it. That's literally the absolute least you can do. - Sabaa TahirSabaa Tahir's (“All My Rage,” “An Ember in the Ashes” quartet) upbringing in the Mojave desert, isolated nearly 100 miles from the nearest city, exposed her to an unforgiving landscape and also many unforgiving truths of humanity. Within this backdrop, one place held significant importance in shaping her worldview: The Motel, a small business operated by her immigrant parents.  As she notes, “The good is what helps you survive, but the bad is what makes you wary and careful and makes you lonely at times.” Sabaa ventured into the realm of academia and later pursued a career in journalism, where her understanding of the world's imperfections deepened. The essence of Sabaa's stories lies in the raw exploration of sorrow and frustration…and taking action.  In this episode, Sabaa delves into the experiences of her childhood that left an indelible mark on her perspective of the world. From the motel her parents ran, to sonic booms, to wearing (dreaded) dresses on Mondays, Sabaa's youth sounds eerily like a superhero origin story. She also opened up about the “outsized impact” of her time copy editing at The Washington Post and its influence on her writing. Sabaa reveals how she channels her outrage to resonate with her coming-of-age readers, validating their shared frustrations and coming to terms with her own.***Keep up with Jordan and The Reading Culture @thereadingculturepod and subscribe to our newsletter at thereadingculturepod.com/newsletter. Join Sabaa on social @SabaaTahir***For her reading challenge, Authors of the Muslim Diaspora, Sabaa wants readers to open up to other perspectives from Muslim diaspora authors, including their cultures, traditions, mythologies, and humor. She curated a fabulous reading list, and I invite you to check it out. Reading challenges are always available at thereadingculturepod.com.In this episode, we're once again changing things up for our Beanstack featured librarian. Today we give the mic one more time to Lessa Kananiʻopua Pelayo-Lozada, the current American Library Association president, to share more about the upcoming ALA conference and exhibition. Beanstack has proudly participated in ALA exhibitions for the last eight years! ContentsChapter 1 - The Middle of Nowhere (for real)Chapter 2 - The MotelChapter 3 - One ArtChapter 4 - The Eyes of an EditorChapter 5 - Books Like Sad SongsChapter 6 - Back to Fantasy LandChapter 7 - Lego Proof SocksChapter 8 - Muslim DiasporaChapter 9 - Beanstack Featured LibrarianLinksThe Reading CultureSabaa TahirSabaa's Books The Reading Culture on Instagram (for giveaways and extra content)Beanstack resources to build your community's reading cultureSabaa Tahir on growing up in a motel - VoxALA Annual ConferenceThe Children's Book PodcastHost: Jordan Lloyd BookeyProducer: Jackie Lamport and Lower Street MediaScript Editors: Josia Lamberto-Egan, Jackie Lamport, Jordan Lloyd Bookey

The art of losing isn't hard to master in this episode devoted to the loves and losses of Elizabeth Bishop's life. If you'd like to support Breaking Form:Review the show on Apple Podcasts here.Buy our books:     Aaron's STOP LYING is available from the Pitt Poetry Series.     James's ROMANTIC COMEDY is available from Four Way Books.Read Bishop's villanelle (the only one she ever published!)  "One Art." Read about her drafting process (at least 16 versions) here. You can listen to Bishop read a few of her poems, including "In the Waiting Room" here--recorded at the 92nd Street Y in October 1977. And here's a much younger Bishop reading "The Fish."Bishop's Paris Review interview is absolute gold. For more on Lota and Samambaia, the house she built north of Rio, read this Paris Review article on two recent movies made about Bishop and Lota. Other receipts for what we say in the show are found in this New York Times article, "The Love of Her Life"For more about the acrimonious "war of the legal wills" between Bishop and Macedo Soares, I recommend David Hoak's article "Proofs of Love: The Last Letters of Lota de Macedo Soares," published in PN Review Volume 42 Number 2 (Nov-Dec 2015). The link contains a paywall.See more photographs of Samambaia, the glass butterfly-shaped house Lota built in Petrópolis.Here are the receipts about Judy Flynn.Receipts for the Louise Crane-Billie Holiday tryst are here and here. Read "The Loneliness of Elizabeth Bishop" in The Nation. Crusoe in England" was a coded coping with grief over Soares' death. when the repatriated Robinson Crusoe recalls the loss of “Friday, my dear Friday,” who “died of measles / seventeen years ago come March.” Had Soares lived to one more March birthday, the couple would have spent seventeen years together. You can hear Bishop read (and follow along the text of) "Crusoe in England" here. 

Thank you for making it this far! You're the true Bunny Brigade ;) Special heartfelt thanks to the artists, whom this series would just not be the same, or even really probable without: Video art by:   / sp8cequ33n     / sp8cequeen   Other artists featured this season   / imabeebop    / seraph_im_angel    / seraph_is_an_angel    / diaridonna    / _puteraduyung_    / strawberry79    / strawberry.79_    / finalchaser    / astrodid    / astrodart   Music Credits: A Stranger Thing by Bruno E Do You Love This World by The Westerlies Commander Impulse by DivKid In Memory of Jean Talon by The Mini Vandals Hulu Ukulele by Chris Haugen Cylinder Seven by Chris Zabriskie Cylinder Seven by Chris Zabriskie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution license (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/...) Source: http://chriszabriskie.com/cylinders/ Artist: http://chriszabriskie.com/ Sky Map by Reed Mathis I Had a Feeling by Tracktribe Words, Voices and Production by https://www.hugopierremartin.com/

Three Amigos - James Lynch and Nate Connors join Jake to talk about separating art from artist misconduct, and the "Golden Bachelor" divorce.//Mike Lefko talks next season's Seahawks QB and the career of OJ Simpson.//Louisiana legislators might allow taxpayer funds to go to vouchers usable at private schools.

In this episode, Abby interviews Jos Kley, former singer of the long running Dutch punk band The Ex. Together, they present the poem "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop. Recitation begins at 35:08.

"The art of losing isn't hard to master," Elizabeth Bishop wrote in her poem "One Art." Psychotherapist Gina Moffa agrees. In her new book, "Moving On Doesn't Mean Letting Go," Gina offers an easy-to-follow map through the hinterlands of loss.

Submissions are the heart of the traditional poetry world. What's it like to read them? What's the best way to submit them? Why do we call them submissions in the first place? Katie and Tim are joined by Mark Danowski of One Art, Roberta Beary of Modern Haiku, and other friends to talk about it all.

[Original Air Date: March 25, 2018] Enjoy this replay of Tom Bilyeu's Live AMA's hosted on Facebook and YouTube with the subject line “AMA Question”. PEOPLE MENTIONED: Naveen Jain - Viome: https://www.viome.com [19:59] Ray Dalio (Ted Talk) - http://bit.ly/2ubfBW1[33:50] Dr. Shefali episode: https://bit.ly/2uc1hfN [34:06] Gerard Adams episode: https://bit.ly/2tt0XHY [34:14] Gary Vaynerchuk episode: https://bit.ly/2scDtWv [34:23] Lewis Howes episode: https://bit.ly/2DNH2V9 [34:32] Jim Kwik episode: https://bit.ly/2udBVOv [34:34] Seth Godin episode: https://bit.ly/2IKHabZ [34:44] Tony Robbins episode - http://bit.ly/2puC9w8 [34:58] Peter Diamandis episode: https://bit.ly/2pz8yAS [35:02] Marie Forleo episode - http://bit.ly/2IL3ZMG [35:14] BOOK MENTIONED: Mindset by Carol Dweck- http://amzn.to/2uhpdP4 [5:38] Principles by Ray Dalio - http://amzn.to/2HXpg4s [6:00] The Gunslinger by Stephen King - http://amzn.to/2G1iWrT [6:24] QUESTION TOPICS: How to commit to a large-scale change and not go back on it? [01:12] If you could only read one book, what book would it be? [05:16] What's your stance between getting adequate sleep and doing the work? [06:59] What were you like in college in regards to discipline and getting things done? [09:50] How to handle the pressure of commitment when you're scaling up exponentially? [12:18] How do you utilize your impatient and make it work along with the learning process to finally put work and get started? [14:34] What are your thoughts on Viome? [19:59] What skills have you found useful with negotiating? [25:15] How much progress do you put into your book on a weekly/monthly basis? [29:53] Do I have to lose everything in my life to get out of the matrix? [32:03] Do you find that people at higher level success are supportive of one another? [32:50] Do you believe it's more impactful to be a Master of One Art or to be multi-passionate? [35:14] Advice on how to stop feeling like a fraud. [36:51] What advice do you have for extremely pessimistic spouses? [40:54] Follow Tom Bilyeu: Website: https://impacttheory.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/TomBilyeu Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tombilyeu Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tombilyeu/ Get ready to unlock your true potential and enjoy an unparalleled listening experience with our Impact Theory subscription service at https://impacttheorynetwork.supercast.com/ Sponsors: This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at http://www.betterhelp.com/impacttheory and get on your way to being your best self. No interest, no payments - take advantage of this special financing offer at NetSuite.com/THEORY to get the visibility and control you need to weather any storm. Visit www.WildHealth.com/impact to apply for membership in their Premium Program for a personalized, high-touch medical experience! Go to zbiotics.com/IMPACT to get 15% off your first order when you use IMPACT at checkout. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The queens are joined by Randall Mann to discuss discomfort, cage-dancing, and how to deal. Support Breaking Form, if the spirit so moves you:Review Breaking Form on Apple Podcasts here.  Buy our books:Aaron's STOP LYING is available from the Pitt Poetry Series. James's ROMANTIC COMEDY is available from Four Way Books.Randall Mann is the author most recently of DEAL: New & Selected Poems (Copper Canyon, 2023). Read a review of the book published here in On the Seawall. And buy the book from Loyalty Bookstores, a Black-owned indie bookseller, here. Randy mentions his poem "In the Beginning" which has an epigraph from Laura Jensen. You can read that poem, and a few others, online here. Laura Jensen is the author of 3 books. Carnegie Mellon republished her second book, Memory, in 2006. You can read her poem "Heavy Snowfall in a Year Gone Past" here. And check out this reconsideration of Memory in The Rumpus here.Check out this essay on Gwendolyn Brooks's formalism and her literary reputation by A. Van Jordan on the Best American Poetry blog here.Read Elizabeth Bishop's villanelle "One Art" here, or watch John Murillo read the poem here.North of Boston is Robert Frost's second book of poems. It contains 17 poems, including "Mending Wall" and "The Death of the Hired Man.You can read the Marianne Moore poem "Silence" here. Or you can hear the poem read by Robert Pinsky.

Inspired by John Richard Smith's poem “Regret Tattoos,” we talk about regrets in poetry. Are there poems that we regret publishing? Should we ever regret a poem? Katie, Tim, and friends discuss, including insight from behind the editor's desk Mark Danowsky of One Art. Attracta Fahy and Megan Hoffman share powerful personal accounts of their experiences speaking the truth, and we share some poems, as always.

Haley Novander, a comedic actress, writer and the former co-host of the original What I Didn't Tell My Therapist Podcast discusses her writing process, identity and some challenges she's currently facing in her creative pursuits. Creative Wellness Coach, Leela Davis and Expressive Arts Practitioner, Kelsay Myers share some writing tips from their own experiences with the creative process and offer some coaching to Haley in this information-packed, philosophical and hilarious episode! We discuss the importance of “more than one art” in communicating and healing our identities as women and creatives through writing. We offer a lot of resources and practices to help confront creative blocks and share some of our favorite spiritual and creative programs. . .and we have a whole lot of fun doing it!  If you're looking for some inspiration to renew your passion and commitment to your writing and creative pursuits, you won't want to miss this episode!  CHECK OUT Haley Novander's upcoming projects:  Haley Novander's life philosophy can be summed up in four words: Adapt. React. Readapt. Act. Social Media - Instagram - @big.rhonda.vibes and @skintastic.mrs.fox YouTube - https://m.youtube.com/@JelloMug/videos Books & Resources Mentioned in this Episode: When Women Were Birds: Fifty-Four Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams Is This Anything? by Jerry Seinfeld  Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron Poetry As Survival by Gregory Orr Transformative Power of Art Journal by Amy M. Anderson The Academy for Soul-based Coaching by Annemiek van Helsdingen The Magic of Embodied Metaphor by Rebecca Eckland & Kelsay Myers The Red Frame by Kelsay Myers The Inspired Writer at The Awakened School by Rachael Jayne Groover  You can find What I Didn't Call My Therapist on all major podcast platforms!  And please subscribe, share, and RATE 5 stars where you can!  FOLLOW What I Didn't Tell My Therapist - Reboot podcast on Instagram - @whatididnttellmytherapist | FaceBook - https://www.facebook.com/WIDTMT | YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLYUdXole4snkkeWTEnxwVQ FOLLOW Kelsay Myers and Dialogical Persona Healing Arts: Website - dialogicalpersona.com | FaceBook & Instagram - @dialogicalpersona  FOLLOW Leela Davis and Creative Wellness Coaching: Website - LeelaDavis.com | Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/mypeaceofsanity/ Curious about Medical Intuition? Check out all of ⁠Spirit Fluent⁠ 's offerings by Stacee Magee Curious about Mediumship & Psychic Development? Check out https://www.squamishmedium.com/freespiritschoolcommunity with Danielle Searancke Leela writes her Astro Notes and conducts Free workshops in the wonderful WOO community of Healers's and Lightworkers on the Mighty Network's Third Eye Library - Join For Free Here - https://www.thirdeyelibrary.com/share/YN8qdugwo1Gr6vlG?utm_source=manual --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/widtmtpodcast/message

On Today's Show "This is happening in our world and at the very least you can bear witness to it. That's literally the absolute least you can do. - Sabaa Tahir Sabaa Tahir's (“All My Rage,” “An Ember in the Ashes” quartet) upbringing in the Mojave desert, isolated nearly 100 miles from the nearest city, exposed her to an unforgiving landscape and also many unforgiving truths of humanity. Within this backdrop, one place held significant importance in shaping her worldview: The Motel, a small business operated by her immigrant parents.  As she notes, “The good is what helps you survive, but the bad is what makes you wary and careful and makes you lonely at times.” Sabaa ventured into the realm of academia and later pursued a career in journalism, where her understanding of the world's imperfections deepened. The essence of Sabaa's stories lies in the raw exploration of sorrow and frustration…and taking action.  In this episode, Sabaa delves into the experiences of her childhood that left an indelible mark on her perspective of the world. From the motel her parents ran, to sonic booms, to wearing (dreaded) dresses on Mondays, Sabaa's youth sounds eerily like a superhero origin story. She also opened up about the “outsized impact” of her time copy editing at The Washington Post and its influence on her writing. Sabaa reveals how she channels her outrage to resonate with her coming-of-age readers, validating their shared frustrations and coming to terms with her own.***Keep up with Jordan and The Reading Culture @thereadingculturepod and subscribe to our newsletter at thereadingculturepod.com/newsletter. Join Sabaa on social @SabaaTahir***For her reading challenge, Authors of the Muslim Diaspora, Sabaa wants readers to open up to other perspectives from Muslim diaspora authors, including their cultures, traditions, mythologies, and humor. She curated a fabulous reading list, and I invite you to check it out. Reading challenges are always available at thereadingculturepod.com.In this episode, we're once again changing things up for our Beanstack featured librarian. Today we give the mic one more time to Lessa Kananiʻopua Pelayo-Lozada, the current American Library Association president, to share more about the upcoming ALA conference and exhibition. Beanstack has proudly participated in ALA exhibitions for the last eight years! ContentsChapter 1 - The Middle of Nowhere (for real)Chapter 2 - The MotelChapter 3 - One ArtChapter 4 - The Eyes of an EditorChapter 5 - Books Like Sad SongsChapter 6 - Back to Fantasy LandChapter 7 - Lego Proof SocksChapter 8 - Muslim DiasporaChapter 9 - Beanstack Featured LibrarianLinks The Reading Culture Sabaa Tahir Sabaa's Books  The Reading Culture on Instagram (for giveaways and extra content) Beanstack resources to build your community's reading culture Sabaa Tahir on growing up in a motel - Vox ALA Annual Conference The Children's Book Podcast Host: Jordan Lloyd BookeyProducer: Jackie Lamport and Lower Street MediaScript Editors: Josia Lamberto-Egan, Jackie Lamport, Jordan Lloyd Bookey

The queens get quick (and dirty), summarizing a poet's oeuvre in one sentence.If you'd like to support Breaking Form, please consider buying Aaron's and James's  books (both 2023):Aaron's STOP LYING is available from the Pitt Poetry Series. James's ROMANTIC COMEDY is available from Four Way Books.When James says that Aaron makes a "Stuck the Landing" flourish, he means the kind of gesture made over and over in this montage of gymnasts sticking the landing!Watch an Elizabeth Bishop documentary here (including interviews with  Bidart,  Strand, Howard Moss, Mary McCarthy, and James Merrill). ~56 min.Watch John Ashbery accept, in delightfully odd fashion, a lifetime achievement award at the 2011 National Book Award here. (~10 min).Here's a 40-min documentary on Robert Frost that's worth watching. Watch this interview with Gwendolyn Brooks (~30 min), courtesy of Maryland's Howard County Poetry and Literature Society (HoCoPoLitSo).Listen to this ~2min recording of Jorie Graham reading her poem "Why" from To 2040 (Copper Canyon Press) here.Watch James Merrill read Bishop's "One Art" and his own "Developers at Crystal River" at the San Francisco Poetry Center in 1980. (~5 min)Watch this interview with Stanley Kunitz, on the occasion of his becoming  Poet Laureate (~20 min).Read Anthony Hecht's poem "More Light! More Light!" which deals centrally with Nazi executions in the Holocaust, or listen to him read the poem (3.5 min) here. We mention two articles about Cummings's anti-Semitism. The review of Susan Cheever's biography is here. The article Aaron mentions is available through J-Stor here. The article (and lost poem) that The Awl published about Cummings can be read here. Eloise Klein Healy's most recent book is A Brilliant Loss, published in 2022 by Red Hen Press and available here. She is the author of 10 books of poetry. Check out her website: https://www.eloisekleinhealy.com. You can read the poem that Celeste Gainey recites on the show, "Asking About You," here. Celese Gainey is the author of The Gaffer, published by Arktoi Books, an imprint of Red Hen Press. You can read more about her and her poetry on her website here.In 1974, Gainey was the first woman to be admitted as a gaffer to the International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees (I.A.T.S.E.). In addition to lighting dozens of documentaries, she worked for such programs as 60 Minutes, ABC Close-Up, and 20/20, as well as on feature films like Dog Day Afternoon, Taxi Driver, and The Wiz.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a tabletop RPG with a rich setting is in want of an overflow book for all the material unceremoniously cut from the corebook. Changeling's 2nd edition was no exception, and so we have the Book of Lost Dreams, a slim volume that touches on crossover rules with other WoD games, resources for Storytellers, Unseelie Houses, an introductory adventure... all of it packaged with a seemly Storytellers' Screen, behind which you can roll dice with secrecy and aplomb. In this episode, we riffle through its pages, as well as two of the associated products from the early days: the Introductory Kit and the updated Toys will be Toys adventure. These are echoes of the earliest internet days for White Wolf and Changeling as well, so naturally, we wax nostalgic more than we probably need to. If you're into buying the BoLD, here's a link: https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/43?affiliate_id=3063731. It's kind of intriguing how this was apparently the 43rd product ever added to DriveThruRPG; it seems that many of the early ones consisted of the White Wolf back catalog, uploaded in alphabetical order. (Aberrant is #3, Adventure! is #5, Alien Hunger is #8...) And then, the Intro Kit is free!-ly available at https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/89894?affiliate_id=3063731 for your perusal. As for the Storyteller's screen illustrated by Rebecca Guay, well, check it out: A lovely pastoral scene behind which to decide the fate of your players, no? Note how it moves through the seasons as you proceed from left to right, because that's the kind of cool stuff one should do with art. Lastly, as always, here are our social media links: Discord: https://discord.me/ctpEmail: podcast@changelingthepodcast.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100082973960699Mastodon: https://dice.camp/@ChangelingPodPatreon: https://www.patreon.com/changelingthepodcast We hope you'll get in touch! And stay tuned for our next installment... heck, follow our show on whatever platform you're reading this, why don'tcha? your hosts Josh Hillerup (any pronoun) ran the "Capture the Flag" adventure as a freeform LARP. The government of Ontario has yet to set a court date. Pooka G (any pronoun/they) lost some dreams once, but it turns out they were just buried under several sarongs and tapestries. The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. —Elizabeth Bishop, "One Art"

This episode speaks to the soul of this podcast, which is turning your mission into a living and breathing movement. Executive Director Gabrielle Martin from the Burrell Foundation shares an incredible launch story of an art exhibit, the Art of Being ME, which features personal stories of more than 25 individuals who share their lived experiences with mental health and substance abuse. What started as a local exhibit in Kansas City is making waves all over the nation. This is truly a wonderful way to wrap up this year and I can't wait for you to meet Gabe!Resources & Links‘Tis the season to be running Facebook and Instagram Ads asking your warm audience of supporters to give! Learn how to launch effective donation ad campaigns in just 37 minutes inside of my mini-course. Get started here and see up to 2x returns on ad spend. Learn more about the Burrell Foundation and the Art of Being ME Exhibit. Want to make Missions to Movements even better? Take a screenshot of this episode and share it on Instagram. Be sure to tag @positivequation so I can connect with you. 

What's it like when you say 'yes' to becoming a performing artist full-time? One young, 1st-year student shares a vulnerable, deep dive into her life as a student performing artist. Guest Jessica David and host Lara talk about leaving home straight after high school, training hard, handling mistakes, the challenges to overcome, and handling the workload.  - About Artist's House International  Lara Bianca Pilcher, the host of the Artist's House International Podcast (AHI), is an experienced show host and international speaker, and educator in the arts industry. Her career as a performer in the arts industry spans over 20 years. Andrew Pilcher is an expert performing artist's Physiotherapist/PT, with years of experience working behind the scenes in the world's leading theatres, recording studios, film sets, and performing arts training centers. Artist's House International is a not-for-profit that uses the tool of creativity to help transform lives and podcast capture, honest industry conversations, featuring the global voice of believer artists. AHI founders, Andrew and Lara Pilcher have been married for 15 years and have two awesome kids. -  We invite you to subscribe to this Podcast and share it with others! - To find out more about AHI visit: artistshouseinternational.com Lara: www.larabiancapilcher.com Andrew: www.performerspt.com - ALL LINKS: LINKTREE linktr.ee/artistshouseinternational  

Nicole Caruso Garcia's full-length debut poetry collection is Oxblood (Able Muse Press 2022). Her writing appears in journals and anthologies such as Best New Poets 2021, Crab Orchard Review, DIAGRAM, Light, Measure, Mezzo Cammin, ONE ART, PANK, Plume, the Raintown Review, Rattle, RHINO, Sonora Review, Spillway, and Tupelo Quarterly. Find her new book and much more here: http://www.nicolecarusogarcia.com/index.html As always, we'll also include live open lines for responses to our weekly prompt or any other poems you'd like to share. A Zoom link will be provided in the chat window during the show before that segment begins. For links to all the past episodes, visit: https://www.rattle.com/rattlecast/ This Week's Prompt: Start with a first line from a James Tate poem and write a poem (or prose poem) that incorporates dialogue within the narrative. See where your imagination takes you! Suggestions: Next Week's Prompt: Write a poem inspired by your favorite poet. The Rattlecast livestreams on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter, then becomes an audio podcast. Find it on iTunes, Spotify, or anywhere else you get your podcasts.

Hi everyone and welcome back to another episode of the podcast, in this weeks episode im joined by dancer and choreographer Nicholas Rose, you can find him on insta @nicholasrose1996. in this episode Nicholas and I chat about bis early years in dance, moving away fro. home to pursue further training, working his way up from very small companies to a much larger organisation. finding where he fits in the dance world, his challenges and triumphs and everything In between. thank you Nicholas for you generosity and openness to chat, I hope you all enjoy the episode love Romy xx

Sukhema knows about impermanence. He has lost his name (Larry Butler), his country (the United States of America), and more than a friend or two along his journey.  He encounters it all with the heart of a poet. And as you listen to our discussion, you will hear him use poetry to teach us all about the importance of the art of losing things. he introduced me to ‘One Art' by Elizabeth Bishop. This passage works well with our theme on this season of the Death Dhamma podcast, Lose something every day.  Accept the fluster  of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.  The art of losing isn't hard to master. Sukhema is the co-editor of Living Our Dying.  A work inspired by his friend the late David Donnison. Living Our Dying includes the work of thirty-two writers, and was compiled to creatively discuss a subject often regarded as taboo. Sukhema also facilitates a group called die-a-log.  Creating an environment where a small group of people get together and discuss death. It is informal, there are no notes, just sharing and speaking from the heart.  His ease at sharing from the heart is evident throughout our discussion. I encourage you to listen in and hear from someone who masterfully lives with the impermanence of losing a watch, will help his granddaughter bury her hamster, and oversee memorial services for his own friends and loved ones. For more on his work, please visit https://playspacepublications.com/.    

In this episode, agile visualizer Adrien Liard shares how his lifelong obsession with drawing led to a brief career in graffiti which became a foundation for Adrien's agile development career and his live, graphic recording practice.Sponsored by ConceptsThis episode of the Sketchnote Army Podcast is brought to you by Concepts. An infinite canvas sketching app built for tablets with a stylus, like the iPad Pro, Microsoft Surface, and Samsung Galaxy Tab.Concepts' infinite canvas lets you spread out and sketch in any direction. Everything you draw in Concepts is a flexible vector, so you can move your notes around the canvas, or change their color, tool or size with a simple gesture. SEARCH ”Concepts” in your favorite app store for infinite, flexible sketching.Learn more: Concepts AppRunning OrderIntroWelcomeWho is Adrien?Adrien's origin storyThe work Adrien is doing nowWhat Adrien does to cope with pandemicBeing excited about opportunities pandemic bringsLess travel means more family timeSponsor: Concepts appToolsTipsWhere to find AdrienOutroLinksAdrien's WebsiteAdrien on TwitterAdrien on InstagramAdrien on LinkedInBen FelisYobi ScribesClubhouseToolsAmazon affiliate links support the Sketchnote Army Podcast.Royal Talens SketchbooksNeuland No.One® Art, brush nib 0.5-7 mmPosca Paint Marker SetMolotow ONE4ALL Acrylic Paint Marker SetTombow Fudenosuke Brush Pen, 2-Pack. Soft and Hard TipTombow Pen Retro Dual Brush MarkersNeuland BigOne®, wedge nib 6-12mmiPad ProApple PencilProcreateIPEVO V4K Ultra High Definition 8MP USB Document CameraTipsPractice consistently a little bit each day, regularity for the winInspect your work looking for growth areas you can work onPractice the things that you're weak on, it should hurtDraw from life because drawing is in the mindCreditsProducer: Alec PulianasTheme music: Jon SchiedermayerSubscribe to the Sketchnote Army PodcastYou can subscribe to the podcast through iTunes, Google Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube or your favorite podcast listening source.Support the PodcastTo support the creation, production and hosting of the Sketchnote Army Podcast, buy one of Mike Rohde's bestselling books. Use code ROHDE40 at Peachpit.com for 40% off!

Andreas Gaertner — illustrator, professional graphic recorder, author — shares lessons he's learned on his journey from tattoo artist to professional visual thinker that draws live for large companies and teaches others to draw live too.Listeners: You have access to a special discount code sketchnoteArmy2022 for a 35% discount on Andreas' Graphic Recording PRO online course:https://www.andreas-gaertner.de/graphic-recordingSponsored by ConceptsThis episode of the Sketchnote Army Podcast is brought to you by Concepts. An infinite canvas sketching app built for tablets with a stylus, like the iPad Pro, Microsoft Surface, and Samsung Galaxy Tab.Concepts' infinite canvas lets you spread out and sketch in any direction. Everything you draw in Concepts is a flexible vector, so you can move your notes around the canvas, or change their color, tool or size with a simple gesture. SEARCH ”Concepts” in your favorite app store for infinite, flexible sketching.Learn more: Concepts AppRunning OrderIntroWelcomeWho is Andreas?Andreas' origin story“Doing is most important, taken is overrated.””Bluff, then perform”“Fill the room” and the importance of having a big enough tankSpitting out a mint in front of a crowd of 200 peopleThe work Andreas is doing now:Online coursesLive drawing sessionsDrawings for donationsWhat Andreas does to cope with pandemic:Getting up at 5AMMore quality time because of less travelThe power of video callsSponsor: Concepts appToolsTipsWhere to find AndreasOutroLinksAndreas' WebsiteDie ZeichnerShare NotesAndreas on InstagramAndreas on LinkedInAndreas on YouTubeAndreas' Book: Made in CreativityOnline Graphic Recording CourseMorgan MotorsHamburg's ReeperbahnThe 5AM Club by Robin SharmaToolsAmazon affiliate links support the Sketchnote Army Podcast.Neuland No.One® Art, brush nib 0.5-7 mm 105 Gray MarkerNeuland No.One® Outliner180gsm A4 paperPack TeleprompterPAD® iLight PRO 11"Miro Digital WhiteboardiPad ProApple PencilWacom Cintiq 22 Drawing TabletTipsUse gray and black for 2 levels of informationShut up — DO IT! Practice again and again!Make your drawing process visible to the customer — don't hide it!CreditsProducer: Alec PulianasTheme music: Jon SchiedermayerSubscribe to the Sketchnote Army PodcastYou can subscribe to the podcast through iTunes, Google Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube or your favorite podcast listening source.Support the PodcastTo support the creation, production and hosting of the Sketchnote Army Podcast, buy one of Mike Rohde's bestselling books. Use code ROHDE40 at Peachpit.com for 40% off!

After a six-month hiatus, Pretty Girl Pill Club returns for its second season. After my brother, Andrew, died at the age of 34 on April 2nd of this year after battling alcoholism, I took a step back from the podcast, among many other things. Finding the motivation and drive to create again took a lot of time, therapy, self-reflection. I will be grieving Andrew for as long as I live, but I have to keep moving, creating, and living. I found so much solace in Megan Devine's book: It's Okay That You're Not Okay (thank you to the kind listener who suggested it). I've recommended it to my boyfriend, mother, father, and others. Whether you've lost someone close to you or you're trying to support someone in their grief, this book is an invaluable resource. In the words of Megan Devine, "there is pain in this world that cannot be fixed, only carried." I will carry this loss forever, not because I am weak, but because I cherish my brother in life and death. In this episode, Rohnie and I discuss my experience losing Andrew, Rohnie's past substance issues, sobriety, and where we go from here. While I have no advice to give those in grief (aside from a book recommendation - seriously, check it out), I hope you find comfort in this episode. We are rooting for you. We stand in solidarity with you. Take care of yourself. Almost a year to the day before Andrew died, he wrote the following poem. I have found immense comfort and strength in his words, and I hope you do too: "In moments of sheer terror like what I'm faced with, remain calm, remain calm, remain calm. I grind my knuckles deep into the ground as I take a sprinter's stance. My knuckles begin to bleed as I dig them in. I am covered in rock dust. The gun goes off, I destroy my opponent." Take your meds, drink some water, and we'll talk to you again soon. Links Website: https://www.pgpcpod.com/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/prettygirlpillclub/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/pgpcpod Sources It's Okay That You're Not Okay by Megan Devine: https://refugeingrief.com/book/ One Art by Elizabeth Bishop: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47536/one-art Credits Pretty Girl Pill Club is a production of Public Notice LLC. Hosted by Sophie Collis and Rohnie Williams. Editing and Audio Engineering by Sophie Collis. Produced by Public Notice. Created by Sophie Collis in conjunction with Public Notice. Music by Eevee & Sarah, The Illstrumentalist. Theme music mixed by Patrick Retzer. All associated artwork by Sophie Collis. Disclaimer: We are not professionals. We're just idiots on the internet with wack as hell brain chemistry. If you are struggling, never hesitate to seek help. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/pgpc/support

With this episode, we hope to reintroduce you to the much-studied "One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop. Tune in to hear us discuss poetic form (specifically villanelles), self-aware writing, and the art of losing. Support the show

Episode One is live! ART & MASS INCARCERATION with special guest Dr. Nicole Fleetwood. Suave and Kevin speak with Dr. Fleetwood, Professor of American Studies and Art at Rutgers University. Topics include mass incarceration, the system disappearing people, abolition, and of course her award winning book Marking Time: Art in the Era of Mass Incarceration. Death By Incarceration is a show about life behind bars. The USA is the only nation where a minor can be sentenced to die by incarceration before turning 18. A minor can't vote, can't serve in the military, can't drink or smoke, but they CAN go to prison for the rest of their lives. Each week, premiering in June of 2021, hosts David "Suave" Gonzalez (Suave podcast/released lifer) and Kevin McCracken (Adulting Well podcast) will be joined by law-makers, community leaders, policy-makers, formerly incarcerated and the currently incarcerated as they shed light on institutions that viciously target and harm marginalized communities, specifically communities of color. Be sure to listen, rate and follow/subscribe to the Death By Incarceration podcast. On APPLE, on SPOTIFY, GOOGLE PODCAST, or wherever you get your shows. DBI's YouTube Channel is presented by the great USALA MEDIA! Be sure to check out the fine work they are doing, episodes uploaded every Friday! USALA's mission is to provide an independent media hub where community members can hear their own voices – where their values, interests, and issues important to them come to life. Please visit one of our generous sponsors, Bella+Canvas. Whether you're looking for t-shirts, sweatshirts, tanks or long-sleeves, Bella+Canvas really does have you covered. Be different. Be Bella+Canvas. Use Code DBI2021 at checkout for 20% off your first purchase at https://shop.bellacanvas.com/ Follow DBI on Twitter & Instagram. Be sure to visit the DBI WEBSITE. Check out some Suave with the media on WHYY and on MSNBC. His amazing artwork is available for viewing and purchase at the Morton Contemporary Gallery here.  Music by Gordon Withers. Check out his WEBSITE and follow on Instagram. Edited by Jason Usry. Follow him on Twitter Listen to Kevin's show Adulting Well. And check out his company Social Imprints. Death By Incarceration is a Crawlspace Media show. Check out all the shows on their WEBSITE and follow them on Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Join us for a workshop inspired by Niq James' most recent workshop series featured ‘@niqjames' on Instagram. Leading prompt: “what have you lost?” lists: 1. things you have lost? 2. things you have let go of? 3. things you are forgetful of? 4. memories you share with lost things? 5. things you feel guilty about losing? 6. what have you forgiven yourself for losing? 7. things you are proud of letting go? prompt: 1. write a poem honoring a lost thing. 2. write a celebration poem for letting something go. poems featured in this episode: “the mother” by Gwendolyn Brooks (as found in Selected Poems, 1963.) (audio reading courtesy of @poetryfoundation) “One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop (as found in the Complete Poems 1926-1979) #whatsyourthotjuice --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/hoodwivesofchi/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/hoodwivesofchi/support