She remembers sight

New Zealand poet Michele Leggott describes how her writing process has changed over the past twenty years of losing her vision. She explains that she can "project [her visual memories] into writing"; this process can give them back to her. When she talks about writing on the computer screen, relying on gigantic font, she ends with this beautiful image: "It is as if I am passing a huge magnifying glass over this language." I've enjoyed listening to her experience. You may too.

By the way, I wrote this blurb. Feel free to let me know what works, what your blurb would be. Is it even called that?

"Before your death now"

Digital Archive, a journal I've happily encountered for the first time, offers a second issue on Transnationalism. Listen to Lily Robert-Foley's "About the author and the translator" for a swirling Borges biography.

Let Light

I do what some may consider unimaginable: I revise deep inside the archives of this blog. No new post. But somewhere in the middle, rarely to be encountered, a new word. Or one gone missing.

The blog, this medium, certainly isn't suited for backlog revising, but I like it. I have reasons too, but providing them extends beyond my time now. Not a lot.

Last night my friend J mentioned her tendency to excise words in her poems.

And dears, how do I get started on the forty-some papery writing journals I have? Much, much to excise. Or is it some forty?

In a few years, I hope that I am not "pushing forty" (how it sounds so heavy). I will grow light. Lighter and lighter. Let light

A poem and its visual wonders

Do you have a few minutes? Visit Jon Woodward's "Poems to Stare At." Let it be a little retreat for you.

For starters, I tried the 3-minute one. My soundtrack (all of our soundtracks will vary) was a man outside shaking a spray paint can. With this poem, he wore a mustache. Thank you, neighbor.

Robin Blaser

Robin Blaser reading poems at Berkeley. If you've just quit your job, there is a special treat for you.