Been trying to keep it together in spite of a hectic schedule and a creative drive that pulls me in different directions all at once.

I cherish the hours I spend in the attic of my parents’ century home, sitting on a milk crate, with a peach crate as a desk, and surrounded by antique china, art, and books, cobwebs, boxes, and handhewn beams. Over my head is the glassed door that opens onto the widowswalk. I don’t go up there but I welcome the sunlight it lets in. Here i am isolated from the phone, the internet, and hall traffic. It has turned out to be the ideal place to work on my fairy tale poems. If I’m tired I nap on the floor with a blanket for a pillow. Life is sweet.

Just met Moroccan poet Taha Adnan, whose poems are crystal goblets of crystalline water in which diamonds float.

Chronicles of Cruiscin Lan — Wanda Waterman St. Louis Vol. 18 Iss. 42 2010-10-22

Voix du Maghreb
Entretien avec Jasser Haj Youssef, 1re partie — Wanda Waterman St. Louis Vol. 18 Iss. 42 2010-10-22

The Mindful Bard
Preservation: An Album to Benefit Preservation Hall
& the Preservation Hall Music Outreach Program — Wanda Waterman St. Louis Vol. 18 Iss. 42 2010-10-22