a case of newness & a writing prompt

Prepping for the new semester always brings thoughts of newness: new readings, new prompts, new ways to approach things. This newness has been a theme of late.

Like how recently I had to replace my phone case. The broken one had served me a few years.

The broken one had a cartoon duck slumped across a counter with loose papers, coffee, and a napkin with cartoon s*** for company. Over the whole scene hung the words: “I’m sick of everything.”

This statement is, as they say, a vibe.

Me too, buddy. Me too.

But having life lifing at me as it has, I took in the image of this exhausted and exploited creature and wondered: why am I glamorizing that?

I mean, I’m not. It’s funny. Until it’s not. And it hasn’t been for a bit. Or rather, why have I carried this symbol so intimately in my hand for so long?

The replacement was a phone case with purple and pink clouds on it.

The clouds are rendered in such a way as to make it seem like they could be parting or coming together to storm.

Either way, the change is beautiful.

So, things remain cloudy?!? That tracks.

Writing Prompt: The astrology podcast I follow spoke recently of the start of Virgo season and how it comes with a renewed focus on the day to day, on daily routine and maintenance, things that get overlooked over time and which need to be revisited in order for our relationship with them to evolve (which if you follow the logic here means that they help us evolve, no?).

Similarly, what signs, symbols, words, etc. in your daily life have you not taken in and given attention to in a while? What do they point to that needs a “refresh,” so to speak? What does giving these things attention open up for their significance in your life?

Use this mix of concrete and abstract materials to write a poem that explores how a poem can be a space of reconnecting with what would otherwise pass us by.

Let me know in the comments if you tried the prompt and how it went.

Happy writing!

= José =

writing prompt: predictive text

Back to teaching full time this week. Been exciting and inspiring, while at the same time very real. What I mean is that the more I teach, the more I feel myself be more myself. And it’s not a thing I can summon or call forth. The space held in shared open questioning and conversation calls it forth.

Tangentially connected, at one point this week I watched this interview and supplemental writing “exercise” clips between Trevor Noah and Amanda Gorman that are illuminating. In the interview, Gorman speaks of poetry as water, a way to “re-sanctify, re-purify, and reclaim” the world around us. Her inaugural poem, “The Hill We Climb,” and its consequent impact on our American conscience at this moment in time are a solid gesture and step in the direction of this work.

In the second clip, Noah and Gorman engage in a predictive text writing exercise. It’s the kind of thing I see on Twitter sometimes and can’t help but join in on. Engaging directly and purposefully with predictive text can at times feel like having an echo of your latest obsessions as well as the way you articulate yourself in daily life cast back at you. Sometimes the screens in our hands look back, yo.

Noah and Gorman’s parameters were to start with the word “Roses” and limit themselves to 15-20 words. I went ahead and tried a few of my own. Feel free to share in the comments should you try this out yourself 🙂

Photo of roses by Aleksandar Pasaric

exercises in predictive text

Roses and the other one of my friends that I nominated for an oppositional the same situation that is

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Roses are you doing well today so much going to congratulate someone to take care if you have a great weekend

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Roses and I have a few things I would do anything to make sure you got the most important part