Friday, February 29, 2008

Windows in February

Another one for John and my beautiful H.

6 comments:

e said...
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John B-R said...

I'm so happy my work has USE value. And can be made part of someone's life, and beautiful. I love this. A copy, please?

And if I can hog a few inches, I want to tell you two of my favorite stories re the use value of my work:

A beloved friend of Rose's was killed in a car crash. Everyone was devastated. I wrote a little "in memoriam" in which I mentioned that when Rose was really sick with her depression/chronic fatigue/fibromyalgia, her friend folded MANY paper cranes for her. Her parents didn't know this til they read my poem. A year later, when they were in Japan, they came across a picture of a crane, which they bought, because it now represented their daughter.

Second, and slightly more frivolously, I had written a poem in which a female undergrad was late, and running to to class. Call me a male gaze perpetrator, but there was something magical about the way her uh parts were uh moving. Later, I was driving through Oakland with Sam, when a very nubile young woman ran across the street, again, an unbelievable example of math and physics. Sam turned to me with a big grin and said, "Hey, Dad, look! Your poem!"

The things you are doing with my work, to make it part of your life, goes right into the pantheon of What Makes It ALL Worthwhile.

John B-R said...

Oh, and given your Morrissey "thing" you might find my friend Shin Yu's post of Friday, February 29, 2008, interesting:

http://makura-no-soshi.blogspot.com/

neverneutral said...

Thanks for listening today!

Ginger said...

Hey John, I'm of course pleased that you enjoy these bits I'm doing with your words. It's defintely opneing up a side of me that has been dormant for a long time.

Love the "uh parts" story.

And also am totally fasinated by the art display described in the blog hook up!

And, E, of course we listend.

Horacio said...

john, those are great stories!

ginger, thanks: this is awesome.

who do we talk to when we talk to windows? to the world, the blinds, the people outside?