Wednesday, January 15th
If Wendy and I hadn't driven along Alki beach last night on our way home from work, I might not have believed this photograph was for real. Trust me, the city glowed last night. The clouds spread across the sky in layers of interconnecting curves that merged into electric hues of violet and pink. This was not the average January sky.
Perhaps the clouds and the light were heralding in CLOUD PHARMACY which at the moment is somewhere between Bedford Park, Illinois and Seattle, Washington. So far, a snow storm in Minnesota and a delayed train in Illinois have left me with the dubious distinction of "exception" on my UPS page which is very different from "exceptional."
As I fret about if the books will arrive in time for me to share with a poets who I will teach on Saturday, I know this is a first class problem. And yet. Right now I've the sensation of the night before my birthday ~ age 6. That sensation of bursting out of oneself with excitement mixed with trepidation. What would it be like to be 7 years old? How would the party go? Who could tell? What will it be like to hold CLOUD PHARMACY in my hands? How will the party go? Wishing for clear skies in all directions: from the train outside Bedford Park to West Seattle, from the poem on the page to the national readings to come.