Is anyone else really, really worried about this?

Okay, Estonia moved a Soviet war memorial. Why am I so uneasy?

• The Russian government is going ballistic. This means they think it's their business.
  
  
• Estonia's population is about one-quarter ethnic Russians. Who may at some point "need to be protected" by other Russians.
  
  
• One demonstrator, according to BBC Radio this morning, has been killed (although the story referenced above does not mention that, even though it's also BBC -- obviously the situation is still quite chaotic).
  
  
• BBC Radio interviewed someone from the Russian Duma who's on their foreign-affairs committee, and her mindless, fatuous, emotional rhetoric took me back to listening to Soviet politicians. It was eery, actually.
  
  
• Putin is already repressing the media and now he's flouting treaties.
  
  
• This is suspiciously timed for a moment when the US government is heavily committed elsewhere and distracted by internal conflict and an impending presidential race.

Yeah, I'm uneasy all right.

A thousand-word day!

I blush to say that I have had what I suspect is my first thousand-word day since leaving Clarion. I am both proud and ashamed. Still, if there's one, there can be more!

A not entirely welcome insight

I've been revising some Clarion stories, going over my Clarion buddies' critiques, remembering all the things we all talked about every day, day after day, and I've polished up a couple of pretty good stories. "What's wrong with that?", I hear you say. Well, I've become fairly strongly afraid that I'll never be able to polish up a good story again without my Clarion buddies. That I didn't actually internalize or learn a damn thing, that I'm incapable of the kind of perspective and professionalism that will allow me to spot the deficiencies and rough spots in my own stories.

I guess I just have to ignore that fear.

Staten Island Ferry

Did y'all know the Staten Island Ferry is FREE? A lovely outing on New York Harbor, a good (albeit not close-up) look at Ellis and Liberty islands, and the chance to marvel at a ferry boat that is an absolute BARN THAT FLOATS -- all for exactly US$0!

I tried to not mention it.

But the victims of the Virginia Tech tragedy deserve a mention. God bless them, God help the survivors and the grieving, and, yes, God have mercy on the gunman.

Life in Milford

I've gone to ground for a while in Milford, Pennsylvania, the little town on the banks of the Delaware where my mom lives. It's a beautiful town, surrounded by wooded hills (with bears and everything, although I haven't seen any this trip so far).

I'm surprisingly busy: I'm keeping Margaret going on her schoolwork (and adding extra subjects and topics, because, frankly, she's not pushed that hard in school and it does her good to stretch a bit). I'm cooking dinners for my mom, Margaret, and me, which is really fun but does take a bit of time. I'm keeping up with my email, which is surprisingly time-consuming. I'm working on drafting three stories, revising one of my Clarion stories, and writing the next chapter to my novel. I'm supposed to be doing the final installment in my playwriting course-by-correspondence, but that's down the queue a bit. And I'm watching lots and lots of Star Trek! (Mom's got super-dooper mega cable.)

The problem is, even with all this going on, there are very few distractions, and I'm perfectly free to completely hate and detest everything I'm writing. And I do. It's all crap. All. And yet I must keep writing. It's part compulsion, and part guilt. (I'm being supported by my family so that I can write, so I'd better write. Especially since I just TURNED DOWN an editing gig so I could focus on the writing.

I guess I'll work through it. Or get used to writing crap....

Okay, I'm a Harry Potter fan. Sue me.

"Earth and Space" premiere

The piece went fairly well -- a little rough, but the general flow and intent were fine. I got several positive comments on the poems, including from the mezzo (who has consistently said how much she likes them).

I was particularly interested in the discussion the mezzo and I had about one of the poems. She got an almost completely different impression of the poem and its setting from what Houston and I had intended -- which is GREAT. It's an amazing thing to find you've written something of sufficient depth and complexity that people can have radically differing perceptions of its meaning! Shakespeare did that! Wow, I'm like Shakespeare! Lookit, lookit! Lookit me! I'm like Shakespeare!

Shouldn't surprise me, but it does.

As a longtime Washington, DC Metro commuter (more than a decade), I shouldn't find this story about music, commuters, and the nature of public art surprising. But I confess I do.

Short summary: the Washington Post engaged world-famous violinist Joshua Bell to play as a street musician during morning and evening rush hours at L'Enfant Plaza metro a few weeks back, and observed whether anyone recognized his quality or, indeed, paid him any attention at all. The story is extraordinarily well written, to start with. And its content is fascinating, with many implications for those of us who fancy ourselves artists of one kind or another. Anyway, worth a read.

Countdown to performance of "Earth and Space"

Only a few days to go until the performance of the piece my husband and I have collaborated on, "Earth and Space" (five poems by me, music by him). The mezzo-soprano who's singing it has just arrived in the States, and there will be rehearsals this week. Then the performance.

The piece is not necessarily a crowd-pleaser like the Christmas carols we also did together. But people who have heard the sound files and read the poems have been very positive in their feedback. So I'm getting quite excited about hearing the piece for real. (See here for information about the concert series.)

Seder tonight with friends

Tonight was, of course, the first night of Passover. We are staying with friends who hosted a hugely elaborate Seder and were kind and welcoming enough to include us. It was a deeply touching experience, for many reasons. First, these friends -- as they always do -- have made us extremely welcome. Second, the Passover story is profound for me not only as a believer (in the same way that all religious people are believers), but as a Christian and as a member of the human race. Third, it was the first Seder my daughter Margaret has been to.

We talk a fair bit about matters of religion and morality in our family, and I was very proud to see Margaret not only being very respectful of beliefs that differed from ours, but working very hard to understand these beliefs and what we had in common as well as how we differed.

It's encouraging when people come together to look for the meaning of what we all do together. Plus, the food was delicious. And plentiful. Pesach tovah, y'all!