”Nor asked: Is there a violence sadder than the word island?” from Islandia by Maria Negroni, translated by Anne Twitty
”Nor asked: Is there a violence sadder than the word island?” from Islandia by Maria Negroni, translated by Anne Twitty
”Nor asked: Is there a violence sadder than the word island?” from Islandia by Maria Negroni, translated by Anne Twitty
”Nor asked: Is there a violence sadder than the word island?” from Islandia by Maria Negroni, translated by Anne Twitty
“Poems are never finished, merely abandoned,” wrote Paul Valéry. How do we take those abandoned drafts, our stuck poems, and re-enter them with fresh verve?
“Poems are never finished, merely abandoned,” wrote Paul Valéry. How do we take those abandoned drafts, our stuck poems, and re-enter them with fresh verve?
“Poems are never finished, merely abandoned,” wrote Paul Valéry. How do we take those abandoned drafts, our stuck poems, and re-enter them with fresh verve?
“Poems are never finished, merely abandoned,” wrote Paul Valéry. How do we take those abandoned drafts, our stuck poems, and re-enter them with fresh verve?
How many languages/tongues do you speak? How many landscapes does your body navigate? How deeply do you listen? Does everything have to be completely understood?
How can we deepen the creative source from which we draw?
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