talented friends

the wound that cannot be seen by Laura Kochman

I finally finished Annie Liontas' Let Me Explain You, sort of quietly in the dark morning-time, which felt right, and now thinking of the wound that cannot be seen. And the act of always reaching toward it.

This week I have some time to myself, to do all of the things I put off, I hope. I bring you:

This interview I did with The Cloudy House
This review I wrote for PANK, of The Volta Book of Poets
These poems of mine at Yes Poetry

In this quiet in-between week, I'll see the beach for the first time in several years, and visit a friend that I miss so much, and sit and drink coffee looking out a window onto an empty square with an empty Word document in front of me. I'll meet an old friend and a new friend to talk about writing. I already rode my bike in the city for the first time, less scared than I had thought I would be, and we rode to the Schuylkill and out over the water on a concrete boardwalk, into a headwind. Another old friend is here in the city for a month. In general: trying to gather back the pieces of myself, and to remember how it feels to speak them. Writing more. Riding more.

I didn't know that all I had to do was go out and look around. by Laura Kochman

Another one of my ridiculously talented friends has something ridiculously amazing going on: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=bn1t-9L64gk]

Not only does she have a sweet radio voice, she's the kind of person who makes strangers spill their guts. She writes carefully and wholeheartedly, and her photos are just beautiful (sometimes, there isn't any way to say it other than beautiful). If you, like me, want to be involved with interesting, beautiful, careful, wholehearted things, you can follow her progress on her Tumblr, or donate through Kickstarter. I don't go around endorsing things I don't believe in, so hi: I think you should know about this.