Tag Archives: csa

What are you making? (The November 2016 edition)

I’m trying to be a little more open with my definition of “creating.” I’ve been fairly rigid with it my whole life; if it didn’t involve visual art or writing, I didn’t really give myself credit. What does that even mean?

old voices hold us back, saying, “you can’t”

as i started dating, my story became this: “i can’t cook.” i believed it. it was far easier to swallow than this: “i wasn’t good enough for someone, and i’m probably not good enough for you, either.”

one strange and wonderful pizza, one normal night

the pizza was strange and wonderful and delicious. though i’ll make a few tweaks on it the next time around, what doesn’t need anything different at all is this evening.

on losing light, believing in poetry mojo and giving the finger to hecklers

i’ve said out loud to anyone who’ll hear me that a small part of me believes that loss of my poetry mojo is punishment for leaving my marriage. i recognize how foolish it sounds, but i also know people who think it to be the perfect karma. most of me, of course, knows i’ll get the mojo back, and i’m willing to be patient. well, maybe patient’s not quite the right word.

word on the street #2: no one ever is to blame

music from across the alley. howard jones from the 80s: no one ever is to blame. at first i think, blech. and wonder why someone would advertise that kind of musical bad taste so loudly. but then, of course, i find myself singing along. you want her. and she wants you.

CSA farmers have artists’ blood

the title of this post is a quote from my CSA newsletter, roxbury farm week #3. here’s what comes shortly after it: “the statement that farmers are artists resonates with me but it is also not complete. we are also caregivers. our drive is very external; we respond in ways a paramedic works … the moment you put a seed in the ground, the moment you bring an animal into the world, you have made a commitment.” isn’t that beautiful?

on wild solo hikes and purple basil

i am 24 hours out of my third break-up in as many months, and i am thinking i need to go on my own wild solo hike. it’s not enough to abandon everything you know: you need to make something in its place.