We arrived home from Iceland last night, where we spent a week driving around various parts of the country and camping at night. Trip of a lifetime. Iceland might just be the greatest place on earth. Most of our trip was spent in "the nature," as they say there, but we snuck in a bit of culture, too, including a reading hosted by Angela Rawlings, who is living in Reykjavik these days. It was a great literary exchange between people from all over the world (Iceland, Canada, Columbia, Germany, Palestine and Hungary). As visitors to Iceland, Rachel and I were featured readers, along with German fiction and children's writer Finn-Ole Heinrich. Here are some pictures from our trip. Just a few that I snapped on my tablet. We'll be uploading more soon. When we got in last night, I found issue 68 of Arc waiting for me. In it, you will find a long review by yours truly of Bruce Taylor's knockout book No End in Strangeness. One of the best poetry books of the 2000's, folks. As always, much else of interest within the covers of Arc, so I'm looking forward to digging in. Once I get caught up...
Friday, June 22, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
When every little scent's intense, intensity
itself grows tedious. Not every sensation
can be sensational if we wish to remain
whole and sane. Holy thoughts and sacred
sentiments should be consigned to holidays
where they belong, so that the mundane
and unremarkable might also grow.
I know a woman who can hear an ant
gnawing on a seed deep within a fissure
on a beam. This doesn't lead to rapture—
it causes pain. I take a walk around
the garden walls I've built as baffle
to the fascinating marvels of my life.
Posted by Zachariah Wells at 7:26 AM