creativity interview, part 2

Frank Vitale, a filmmaker who attended my Creativity Workshop, is diving in for part two of our conversation on the same topic.

Frank: Ann, you’ve given us permission to play unencumbered. I imagine a child finger painting. But I want to create something professional to communicate with other people. How do I get from here to there?

Ann: Your challenge as an artist is to access that child-space where you can have fun, create new worlds and—as you say—get your hands messy. Once you have exhausted yourself that way, you need to back off from the work. Even the subconscious—the inner child—needs a break, nap time, milk and cookies, whatever!

Once you’ve guided that child, whom I call the Wunderkind, out of the room, it’s time to invite in the Editor. The Editor loves to create order out of chaos. The Editor will sort, select, try out, rearrange. More adult than the Wunderkind, the Editor is also playful and daring: like a teenager with some knowledge and the adrenaline to try something new.

Frank: I’m glad that I can still play. I thought the Editor was going to be a taskmaster and I’d have to be clear-headed and detached. I’m not sure I am capable of that.

What does the Editor look like at work?

Ann: When you get tired after sustained creative activity or don’t know what to do next, that’s time to call in the Editor. You may have a longing for order—to rearrange dishes, sort through clothes, or clear the basement. Those transition activities can help summon your Editor. They create time and space for a shift to occur in both your brain and environment.

There’s a definite shift. To create a manuscript, I may spread poems on the floor. My Editor will quickly select and group them, put them together and pull them apart. It feels fun and intuitional—I have no idea where my Editor is leading. Days later, I may move several poems. My Editor is fine-tuning. I trust her completely.

Another way to invoke the Editor is before sleep. I can think, “I need help editing this poem.” It’s like placing an order: I go to sleep while my Editor turns on the lamplight and gets to work. The next day there may be some new ideas.

What would you ask your Editor for help with?

Frank: I want to know if my work makes sense, communicates, engages – in short, is it any good?

Ann: You would ask, “Is there anything I need to do to improve the film?” You might live with that question for a week. Step away from the creative churning for a while.

Frank: I am curious how your Editor interrelates with other Editors—in workshops, writers groups and with writer-friends?

Ann: My Wunderkind loves workshops and sharing work with others. She enjoys seeing what other people are doing. She finds inspiration and challenge among other artists.

Editing, however, is a solo practice. If a document is circulated, edits input by each person require quiet and focus. In graduate workshops, when 15 Editors suggested edits, I never knew which had the most merit; many were contradictory. My Editor felt overloaded and overwhelmed.

Teachers encouraged us to find two or three people we could turn to over a literary lifetime. Integrity is crucial here: Editors who constantly applaud work are useless. Similarly, Editors who do not understand the poet’s intent offer no value. I am blessed to know two award-winning poets whose Editors love to work with my Editor. We know we are there to support, challenge and promote one another’s work.

Frank: I learned something about giving feedback from my film class. For the first five years I taught it, I critiqued students’ one-page scripts. One semester, I got two scripts, one well written and the other—an incoherent script.

While the good writer made a so-so film, the incoherent writer created a spectacular one. I realized their scripts could not wholly convey their ideas; furthermore, my criticism could have been destructive. For 25 years now, I haven’t critiqued student scripts. I find what is good in them and bring that to students’ attention. This unconditional love works wonders—their film quality is much better.

Ann: Your story illustrates the interplay between the Wunderkind and the Editor beautifully. That student with the tidy script allowed her Editor to participate in her project too soon. Sure, she could hand in a great script—but the Editor’s continued presence created a less than adventuresome project.

The second student, with the crazy script, allowed her Wunderkind to be in control—its incoherence shows that a preverbal Wunderkind was guiding her project! That audaciousness and playfulness continued into the film.

Here’s the lesson: The Wunderkind and Editor cannot be in the room at the same time. The Wunderkind thrives on creative chaos and the Editor on patterns and order. If the Wunderkind is playing, the Editor will say, “What on earth are you doing? Here, let’s clean this up now!” And the Wunderkind looks around meekly and shrugs, “Okay.” Editors by nature are authoritative and that’s intimidating to the Wunderkind.

I once coached a man who could not get started writing his manuscript. I explained that his Editor was in the room. “What will you say to your Editor to make him leave?” I asked. He thought and said, “’I value you and will need you later. Right now, I am asking you to leave.’” After that, his manuscript poured out in a matter of months.

It takes 10 years for the Editor to learn his or her chosen craft. And, once we learn those rules, we can break them. That’s the Editor’s choice too. That’s why the Editor can end up being just as playful as the Wunderkind—but in a more adult, conscious, deliberate way.

What does the Wunderkind feel like to you? Your Editor? When do you know they are battling?

Frank: My Wunderkind is fear. When I explore a project, I feel it’s good it if it scares me. For my last documentary, “A Perfect Stranger,” I would go to Starbucks or Washington Square Park, find someone that interested me based on their appearance, then ask if I could do an in-depth profile on them.

Approaching strangers is scary. So is pushing them to reveal who they are. I paralleled the idea with an attempt to find out who I am. Now that’s really scary! (see the doc) I like walking on the edge. To me, art is on the edge.

Ann: Georgia O’Keeffe spoke about walking a knife’s edge, knowing she will probably fall off, but being compelled to do so anyway. If you think about it, a kid would never have any problem walking up to a stranger and saying, “I want to make a movie about you.”

When the Editor is in charge, make sure the Wunderkind doesn’t sneak back in. The Editor needs solitude. If a novelist is putting final touches on a book, the Wunderkind might say, “Let’s have aliens land in Chapter 3,” or “Why can’t the main character live happily ever after instead of dying?” Sometimes there can be valuable insights but mostly it’s an attempt to derail completion.

In the final moments of completing a project, stay tuned with that energy that brought you to this point. Say, “I still don’t know where this is going, but I trust the outcome.” If you are picturing reviews, visualizing the audience, take a break. Do what you need to do to get back in your zone—whether saying a prayer, doing a little writing, or going somewhere for a walk. Art is a spiritual practice and any background noise needs to be addressed.

Frank: That is really useful and I know it will be to others as well.

Thank you, Ann. This has been great. I look forward to the final character in your triumvirate, the Advocator.

Ann: My pleasure, Frank! Next time we’ll talk about getting our work out in the world.

your philly freedom annogram

Galileo at the Franklin Institute
With a few Westchester Amateur Astronomers, we made a pilgrimage to see Galileo’s hand-crafted telescope at the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia. We looked through the telescope—first time out of Italy—as the great scientist did. “Galileo, the Medici and the Age of Astronomy” included intricately carved brass astrolabes, compasses and replicas of Galileo’s observation notebooks and personal correspondence. Galileo (1564-1642) was first to discover craters on the moon, moons of Jupiter, phases of Venus similar to our moon—proving the sun, not the earth, is the center of our universe.

And Star Trek too
We also viewed the Star Trek:The Exhibition, substantially less exciting than Galileo. Of some interest—Star Trek: The Next Generation costumes worn by Picard, Worf, Guinan and Counselor Troi; a cast head of Data; and USS Enterprise model used in the original series. Much more exciting was the 60,000-ton steam engine at the Franklin which offers a ride a few yards, and the lobby’s laser tribute to and towering statue of Ben Franklin.

Philly’s Historic District
Led by our friend Bill Newell, and driven by our pals Angela and Mike Virsinger, we enjoyed touring Philadelphia’s Historic District. This meant sitting in George Washington’s pew in Christ Church, the first Episcopal Church; driving past Independence Hall, the Arch Street Quaker Meeting House and the residence of Dr. Physick, the first American surgeon; visiting the charming Elfreth’s Alley—the oldest continuously inhabited homes in the United States; throwing pennies on Ben Franklin’s grave, as custom dictates; touring the Betsy Ross (1752-1836) house—where she made flags and musket bullets for Washington, outlived three husbands and had seven kids.

Good eats
In the great Philly cheese steak eat-off, our meat connoisseurs proclaimed Pat’s King of Steaks victor over Geno’s Steaks next door. At the Reading Terminal Market, we went to Delilah's at the Terminal, whose mac n' cheese Oprah selected as the best in America; my husband Michael, Bill Newell and I agreed it was delicious. I made a beeline to Bassetts Ice Cream, the oldest purveyor in the country—so good, we ended up going there twice. If you remember being able to actually chew cold ice cream, then you will know what Bassetts is like. Oh vanilla, to thee I sing!

The Female Sower
Loretta Fay noticed women on the train sometimes pull out a piece of paper with a quote—perhaps scripture, perhaps poetry—for encouragement. That observation led to The Female Sower, Loretta’s custom purse business. After a career in textiles, Loretta offers women more than 20 fabrics to design their own purse. Inside, she affixes a printed message of the woman’s choice. Made of durable upholstery fabric, these hand- and shoulder bags can be spot-cleaned and their linings are breathtakingly beautiful. When I saw them in person, I was amazed by the quality. To express your individuality, create a personalized purse for someone special, or give a gift certificate, e-mail Loretta at

RETFAY@aol.com.

Chappaqua Rocks
An unexpected summer pleasure was the free Friday concert by Chappaqua Rocks—a genuine“school of rock.” Each group had their own band name and performed recognizable songs—from “Pinball Wizard” by the Who to “God Save the Queen” by the Sex Pistols. Pint-sized kids were wind-milling with the best of ‘em—and instructors on-stage helped with the beat and lyrics. Fourteen-year-old Evan Schwartzman (at right) expertly played drums, bass guitar and later sang the rap song “Sugar” by Serj Tankin. See last summer shows this and next Friday, 4:30 p.m. at the Music Conservatory of Westchester.

MYGRAIN at the Bitter End
How many grown-ups wish they could play the Bitter End? Success comes early for some—including MYGRAIN, a band of Chappaqua Rocks students who recently rocked the Bitter End: Dante Palmenteri on vocals (on left above), Evan Schwartzman on bass and background vocals (on left, center), Karel Ullner on rhythm guitar (on left, at far right), David Batten Lead Guitar, Cole Parham on drums and Julian Fernandez on keyboards.

Gigi and the Lend-Me-A-Hand Band in Peekskill
Fresh from headlining July 4th in Philly, Gigi and her band opened the Peekskill Waterfront Festival this week to a huge outdoor audience. Joey Elluzzi, son of Gigi drummer Guy Elluzzi and action leader Patty Elluzzi, made an awesome debut on the trombone. Lead guitarist Michael Cefola and bass player Larry Schwartzman, Gigi’s spouse, go back to Joey's age as friends! And Gigi’s mom, Granny Franny, is always a star in her own right on keyboards and vocals. Playing a mean sax is long-time friend Paul Rutkowski, who gives the band that New Orleans spice. Everyone loves the Gigi band—especially Maria, who's holding a Gigi CD giveaway on her moms blog, Maria’s Space.

Fear—does it hurt or help artists?
Find out in part 2 of my conversation with filmmaker Frank Vitale. Frank and I just completed another eye-opening discussion on the creative process. Sure you’ve got talent—but does it control you or do you control it? Look for this interview in your inbox.

‘Round the Net
As usual, I am grateful for intriguing links sent by:

· Ann-Marie Cutul at the Scarsdale Library for this literary traveler link.

· Lucy Barber, extraordinarily talented painter—praised by The New York Times—whose paintings can be now seen on her blog.

· Elaine Gregory, my sister-in-law, for this amazing video by Highland sheepherders.

· Viki Holmes and Kate Rogers, for the Not a Muse Anthology Facebook page and announcing the Haven Books booth this week at the Hong Kong Book Fair.

· Katharine McCollum, my cousin, for this great interview with Oklahoma’s poet laureate, poet/translator Jim Barnes.

· Linda Simone, award-winning poet, for this talk by Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) on creativity.

· Meredith Trede, Toadlily publisher and poet, for the new revamped Toadlily site.

Wishing you summer pleasures,

Ann

Ann Cefola

your june annogram

Sugaring reviewed in Melusine
If you haven’t seen my chapbook, Sugaring, read this insightful review. Janelle Elyse Kihlstrom, a graduate of the prestigious Johns Hopkins writing program, offers an amazingly on-target exploration. The review is part of Kihlstrom’s debut journal, Melusine or Woman in the 2lst Century. You can also find my work this month in J Journal and Amoskeag.

Prairie Fire Poetry Reading
What a pleasure to read at Peter Chelnik’s Prairie Fire Poetry Series on May 7! Poets Chris Graff, Patricia Carragon and I read to more than 30 people. DeeAnne Gorman sang “There will never be another you,” accompanied by Bob Feldman on sax. Peter also welcomed 16-year-old Juliette Baker and 17-year-old Jake Samuels who read work; and 12-year-old Calvin Baker who wrapped up the evening with Shakespeare.

“Finding the Rooster” at Thirteenth Street Repertory Company
Playwright Terence Patrick Hughes’s “Finding the Rooster” depicts a family unraveling from the death of a son in war, and in near allegory, turns to literature to heal them. Kathy Neville Brown gives a powerful performance as the alcoholic mother who is barely aware of what is happening to her remaining son, and Kevin Hauver is magical as her wacky war-hero brother who both inspires and saves his nephew.

Learning to See Poetry Reading
Participants in Greenburgh Poet Laureate Brenda Connor-Bey’s Learning to See poetry writing workshops will read their work tomorrow, June 10, at the Greenburgh Public Library, 6-8:45 p.m. Valerie Griffith, Sarah Bracey White (at left) and Brenda will offer introductory remarks, and there will be refreshments at this free event.

Washington Heights Chapbook Festival
The final chapbook festival event will be a Bookmaking Workshop for Children and Their Families with artist Dindga McCannon on June 20, 11 a.m-1 p.m. The kids will make books from simple materials, including their writing and drawing. This free event will be at the Fort Washington Branch, New York Public Library, 535 W. 179th Street, between Audubon and St. Nicholas Avenues.

Writers Under the French Occupation

“Between Collaboration and Resistance: French Literary Life Under Nazi Occupation,” at New York City’s 42nd Street Library, documents that literary vacuum that descended on France during its Vichy government (1940-1944). Excerpts from diaries, poetry, letters, newsreels and movies reveal how France’s most celebrated writers struggled to survive the untrustworthy regime. A sobering exhibit—through July 25—that reminds writers to savor our political freedom.

Movie meditation: Star Trek
When the Star Trek series appeared 1966-1969, it seemed like the world was falling apart: There were riots, looting and fires in urban areas; we were bombing the Vietnamese; civil rights marches spoke to more unrest; women were burning bras and college students protesting war. I was nine years old, and on Fridays, I could count on a team of sane and talented astronauts to bring peace and order to our galaxy.

Yes, they would have conflicts. They had weaknesses, strengths. They hated people and had love affairs. Relying on mutual trust and humor, they could find solutions to sophisticated challenges facing other worlds and their own. I felt safer in their company than anywhere else—certainly more than that 1972 morning when I saw a Times photo of a Vietnamese girl running naked from a napalm blast.

When the USS Enterprise returned to the big screen in this latest movie, I felt my eyes well—and later as the young characters uttered familiar lines that we would come to expect during the series’ three years. I realized the starship personalities were an intimate part of my personal history, like family members, role models, neighbors—people I knew and could depend on during a complex time.

Four decades later, I help organizations promote diversity programs. The message: People working together from different backgrounds create better products and services. They’re more creative. They have more fun. In this regard, Star Trek was the first diversity program: Kirk, Bones, Spock, Uhura, Sulu and Chekov saving planets, saving lives and giving hope to a nine-year-old girl on Friday nights that humans and others could, after all, create something beautiful and enduring—like community or peace.

'Round the Net
I am grateful for these links sent by:

· Fast Company on the amazing new park in Chelsea built on an elevated railroad

· Kathy Neville Brown, who is starring in this web soap opera July 11

· Isabelle Fuller for these tips for a beautiful life

· Mary Ladd for this awesome version of “Stand by Me”

· Meredith Trede for the Geraldine R. Dodge blog

· Barbara Dickinson for this June 17 free webinar with Kenny the Monk

· Linda Simone for why right-brainers will rule the world

· John McCray for his film, “Cracks,” starring Geico Caveman John Lehr, Justine Bateman and John.

Live long and prosper,
Ann

your national-poetry-month annogram

Happy National Poetry Month! To celebrate, I’ve read from Not A Muse (Haven Books, 2009) in the city this month, and welcomed work in Motif: Writing by Ear (Motes Books, 2009), Amoskeag and New Plains Review.

Poets on music
I’m thrilled to have my tribute to guitar legend Les Paul in Motif: Writing by Ear. An Anthology of Writings about Music (Motes Books, 2009). This inaugural volume in Motes Books’ new themed series features 116 writers including Evie Shockley, Sue Walker, Silas House, Marilyn Kallet, Frank X Walker; and song lyricists Buddy and Julie Miller, Patty Griffin, RB Morris, and Scott Miller. See Motes Books.

Peter Chelnik’s Poetry/Jazz Fusion
At Rive Gauche on April 13, I read “Taped at the Poetry Reading” and “Andromeda at Midlife” from Not a Muse. Saxophonist Bob Feldman accompanied poet Peter Chelnik, giving the café a distinct beat feel. Cellist Jay Shulman then transformed the space into an elegant salon by performing a rare Bach composition. Poet Eve Packer, also backed by sax, delighted everyone with her urban-girl lyrics and jazz vocalist Dee Anne Gorman sang an excellent song or two. I will be a featured poet May 7 at 6:45 p.m.—come experience this unusual venue at 336 East 86th Street between lst and 2nd Aves.

Creativity interview goes viral
Thanks for the huge response to filmmaker Frank Vitale’s interview with me on creativity. We’re planning part two, so stay tuned. You can get to know Frank’s work by visiting his company; nonfiction blog; creativity blog; and viewing some of his students’ films, and church plays.

Translation and Literary Selfhood at CUNY Graduate Center
Poet/translator Rosanna Warren moderated this panel last month. Jonathan Galassi, Farrar Strauss Giroux’s publisher, says he fell in love with the work of Eugenio Montale (1896-1981), yet still feels like “an amateur” when translating. Edith Grossman, translator of Gabriel Garcia Márquez (1927- ), is tackling an epic by Góngora (1561-1627) which has complex secret and duplicate meanings. Poet Marilyn Hacker is translating Claire Malroux (1935- ) at left, French translator of Emily Dickinson; and Rika Lesser read part of Mozart’s Third Brain by Göran Sonnevi (1939- ) in the original Swedish and her English translation.

Toadlily at Hudson Valley Writers Center
In a celebration of Toadlily Press, poets Marcia Arrietta, Michael Carman and George Kraus read work from the latest Toadlily chapbook quartet, An Uncommon Accord (Toadlily, 2009) last Friday. Publisher Meredith Trede also read Heidi Hart’s “Door Psalm” which won the small press a Pushcart; Pamela Hart debuted new art-inspired work and Maxine Silverman shared her poignant work. This wonderful event took place in the HVWC’s home, a restored train station with breath-taking sunsets and views along the Hudson—well worth a train trip from Manhattan.

Reel 13
If you’re a film buff and haven’t seen WNET’s Reel 13 on Saturday nights, you’re missing out. Thirteen combines a classic film, Indie and short that viewers select online the prior week. I loved the Indies “Bigger than the Sky,” a modern-day Cyrano de Bergerac; “Rory O’Shea Was Here,” about a transformative friendship between two severely disabled young men; and “Sita Sings the Blues,” an animated tale of heartbreak based on the Indian epic Ramayana (see below). Vote now for your favorite short.

Doty to judge Camber Press contest
The fifth annual Camber Press Poetry Chapbook Award will be judged by Mark Doty. April 30th is the Camber Press Fiction Chapbook Award deadline which will be judged by author Ron Carlson. Both winners will receive $1000, publication, and author copies. For full details, see the web site.

Round the 'Net
For these great links, I thank

· Artist Angela Virsinger for this clever music video.

· Architect Fred Cox for this NPR piece on a home he helped restore (third photo down) in LA’s celebrated Hancock Park.

· Poet Mary Ladd for this hilarious send-up of Dickens, fortune-cookie style.

· Filmmaker Nina Paley, whose broken marriage inspired her award-winning animation—see it in its 90-minute entirety.

Enjoy poetry, savor spring, be happy!

Until next time,

Ann

anncefola.com

your annogram bail out

Are you as sick and tired as me with all this financial talk? I am bailing you out with a rewarding e-mail conversation between filmmaker/writer Frank Vitale and me. Frank is a filmmaking adjunct professor at the School of Visual Arts and director of the Audio-Visual Division of the March of Dimes Foundation. Frank’s “Montreal Man” was recently selected by CVMC.net for distribution and you can see another of his films, “The Perfect Stranger,” on vitaleproductions.com.

Frank: Ann Cefola, creative strategist and owner of Jumpstart, LLC, is a multitalented wellspring of thought and energy. I attended her creativity workshop on at the Manhattanville College writing program. She gave us a very workable strategy to manage our creative process. Ann divides it into three stages: “The first, the ‘wunderkind’ stage,” she says, “means play and sometimes chaos; the second is ‘shaping,’ where we call upon the inner editor to make sense of the creative mess we've generated; and the third calls for ‘advocating,’ where we summon our inner concierge to go into the world and find opportunities to share our work." This interview explores the Wunderkind stage.

Ann, what is, in your opinion, the essence of creativity?

Ann: The essence of creativity is intuition, the ability to listen, follow and act on inner cues and nudgings. Once I was sorting through tubes of oil paint at Pearl—hefting them in my hand, reading them, considering what I needed to paint. I apologetically explained to an employee, a young man, that I had no formal training. "That doesn't matter," he said. "Eventually you come to realize that your greatest teacher is your intuition." I marveled at the rightness of his words.

Frank: Those “inner cues and nudgings,” they sound ephemeral, delicate, fragile, scary. How do you manage them effectively?

Ann: Most artists have a rich inner life—it’s a way of being that processes the world in terms of messages, symbols and metaphor. When something is appealing or intriguing, we make note of it—even if only on a subconscious level. Writers have many journals and artists sketchbooks. My uncle, an architect, advised his daughters to always carry a sketchbook. How do filmmakers collect and record the primary material that inspires them?

Frank: For filmmakers there must be many different ways. For me, I carry most of in my head until there comes a point when I need to make it more concrete and put it down on paper as an idea or an outline or a script. Once on paper it is never as amazing as it was in my head. And then there is the process of actually making the film that is full of heart-breaking compromises. The film can turn out great, but getting there is torture.

Let me go back to the incubation stage and ask you about the emotional part. It is so hard to take those “inner cues and nudgings” and expose them to the light of day by writing them down or drawing images and then, oh God, sharing them with other people who might judge our work or judge us and trample our delicate fragile imaginings. It’s a very vulnerable time in the process. What are your thoughts about dealing with the fear and natural insecurity that is part of the creative process?

Ann: Mark Twain said, “Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear.” It never goes away. What is a greater fear, however, is never acting on that glimmering inspiration. Once a coworker said to me, “Oh you write? So do I: I’ve written hundreds of novels in my head.” That still gives me chills. The insecurity is always there—in the poem “Berryman” by W. S. Merwin, Merwin asks the elder poet:

[…] how can you ever be sure
that what you write is really
any good at all and he said you can't

you can't you can never be sure
you die without knowing
whether anything you wrote was any good
if you have to be sure don't write

Being a creative person in this world, on a feeling level, makes no sense: I have to embrace the secret calling without wasting time questioning it. And you’re right, the first inklings of creative pursuit are delicate. Wasn’t it Hemingway who refused to say what he was writing about? That’s a practical choice—to hold the work close until it feels like it is ready to debut. Anxiety is part of the creative process and, if embraced, turns into energy and wisdom for the work itself.

Frank: That’s powerful, Ann. There is fear and uncertainty, yet great possibilities. In your Stages of Creativity, the first stage is the Wunderkind. What is it and how does it get us to move beyond the fear and uncertainty?

Ann: If you look at a cut tree trunk, you see all the circles as the tree grew outward. Humans are like that too—we have every life stage within us, despite our advancing years. The child within is the source of all creativity. The child is at home with the imagination. The child knows no rules or bounds. A child will say she’s going to build a tower to the moon. And most adults would respond, “Of course you are!” or a more skeptical “And how do you plan to do that?” There is also a saying that all children are poets—it’s just some of us never forget it.

The child loves creative chaos. Here’s an example: My husband dropped by the neighbors after the holidays. The mother called everyone into the kitchen to see the baby, who had emptied multiple bags of cups from a discount store onto the floor. “This baby has gotten all the gifts in the world for Christmas," she said, "and look what she prefers!” Everyone had a good laugh. That’s early creativity—cups and cups and what to do with them! Not yet one year old, the baby had created a fascinating landscape. Whether using mud, plastic cups or finger paint, kids go with their instincts. You probably know the famous Picasso quote—when he saw some four year olds’ drawings: “It took me a long time before I could draw that way.”

The Wunderkind is that inner child who knows that it’s okay to take risks, think big and enjoy the adrenaline of a visualized new adventure. That child knows how to play and how to play seriously. Somewhere between the sandbox and the laptop, many of us lose touch with the Wunderkind. He or she is still there, waiting to be invited to play. How I choose to interact with my Wunderkind may determine whether I produce anything creative as an adult or not.

Frank: How do you invite the Wunderkind to play? How do you interact with it?

Ann: Say a parent notices a child loves to garden. Maybe the grandparents hear about this and buy their grandchild a little hoe and watering can. Maybe the neighbors pass along an envelope of zucchini seeds. Maybe the parents take their child to the local botanical garden and nature
center. The parents know that their child loves spending time outside and learning about plants. At the holidays, they may buy books about gardening. They give the child the time, space and tools to explore this passion—which seems to increase the more they support it.

When we discover our passion, our curiosity, our instinct—even if only a beguiling direction or pull—we need to be like those attentive parents. We need to give our Wunderkind the time, space and tools to explore. As a poet, I need lots of time just to be, to reflect, to hear lines that come to me. I also need a laptop, and a beautiful pen and colorful notebooks. I need great writing to read to inspire and challenge me. I need other poets to share my work with, and to encourage me to continue. I know I am being a good parent to my Wunderkind when I feel connected to my work and have a sense of playful intrigue.

Is it hard to make time for a pursuit that has no promise of outcome or profit—when I have to earn a living and attend to the everyday details of life? Yes, it is a challenge: Here is the daily, weekly or monthly choice we must make—to live the path we've been given, or walk away from it.

Frank: Thank you, Ann. You have given us permission to play. That’s a great gift.

Ann: My pleasure, Frank!

your last-day-of-february annogram

Welcome to our new president
What a different world with President Obama taking decisive action on all his campaign promises! Did you know that he is a poet too? Read his poem about his father. Thanks to Lynne Hamill for this discovery. (At left: Senator Obama at a Random House party with my cousin-in-law, Stefanie Sabol).

Not a Muse
My poem, “Taped at the Poetry Reading,” appears in Not a Muse (Haven Books, Hong Kong), an anthology about the 21st-century woman. More than 100 poets from 24 countries are featured, including Margaret Atwood, Erica Jong and Sharon Olds. Wish I could attend the publication party in Hong Kong this week!

Perigee
You can also find “Having No Children” at Perigee. The editors selected six poems out of 300, so I am thrilled to be included. More poems will appear in Amoskeag, J Journal and The New Plains Review later this spring.

Celebrating African American History Month
Leave it to PBS to complete my education: “The Better Hour,” profiled William Wilberforce (1759-1833), a Member of Parliament who dedicated his life to outlawing slavery throughout the United Kingdom. Another film, “Sisters of Selma,” revealed the role Catholic nuns played in supporting Selma’s black citizens and participating in the 1965 march to the city Courthouse. Two must-see documentaries!

Heavens Above at Rye Arts Center
Thirty amazing Hubble photographs of stars and other celestial objects were on display at The Rye Arts Center January 13-February 21. On the opening night, Westchester Amateur Astronomers hosted a panel featuring Doug Baum, Matt Ganis and Rick Bria who shared breathtaking photos and fascinating insights into astrophotography. Congratulations to Elyse and Larry Faltz on organizing this wonderful event!

Fiction and poetry at Riverspace
Tomorrow, March 1, at 4 p.m., you can hear novelist Hillary Jordan and poet Jeffrey Yang read at Riverspace in Nyack. Jordan's debut novel, Mudbound (Algonquin Books, 2009) was awarded the 2006 Bellwether Prize for literature of social responsibility. Yang’s poetry collection, An Aquarium (Graywolf, 2008) has been widely praised as "spellbindingly wonderful and beautifully fun."

Music meets poetry
The Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra, led by Music Director Jeffrey Kahane, will host Robert Pinsky March 5 and Michael Steinberg April 23 at the Broad Stage at Santa Monica College. Tickets are $37.

Camber Press Fiction Chapbook Award
Camber Press is introducing a Fiction Chapbook Award, which seeks to honor a 10,000-word long story. Ron Carlson will judge. See Camber Press for full details and submission guidelines.

Book reviews
It took me a few years to discover Mindmade Books (formerly Seeing Eye), the chapbook series edited by my Seismicity editor, Guy Bennett. Guy has selected an impressive and diverse collection by authors more than willing to take risks with language. Here are four books I limited myself to—although I wanted to read many more. (Note: Blog format distorts some of the creative line spacing in the following samples.)

In The Row by Guy Bennett, the author explores the twelve-tone “row” created by Viennese composer Anton Webern (1883-1945). One of the hardest things to do in poetry is to impart the senses, and Guy succeeds in communicating the composer’s sound:

With sudden sparks on the violin and one dull gong,

His brittle insistence on color honing our fine breath.

Dream, rim, tin; attenuated.

A string of subtle shifts.

And then the author moves from aural description to the composer’s thoughts on his “row”:

my aim: to make
as plain as possible
the relationships between
all parts of the unity.

This is an intelligent and provocative book that made me feel as if I had experienced the composer’s work and had been exposed to its genius.

Eléna Rivera’s Suggestions at Every Turn juxtaposes ordinary quotes and phrases within a series of poems that suggest a narrative of someone at a window:

Rules, though strict, are finally very simple.

A photograph of a family
father, mother, brother, sister
ruled around a large round table,
backs straight, faces forward
The voyage was undertaken
with sang-froid on the part of some
and molten lava on the part of others
The great urgency of achievement,
given precedence at the slot machine
while the small sit at a window, looking
at the ocean prairie, thinking of sinking
and of all that was lost.

“Now I am sitting
by the window
looking down.”


The poet uses these creative line breaks and stanzas to add to the mystery—the sense of a definite narrative just out of reach. Rivera references Kafka at one point, and like him, she takes the reader on a rewarding and challenging right-brain journey.

In The Lover’s Numbers, Eleni Sikelianos is both playful and sensual. Like Rivera, she sets aside rational language to draw in the reader. The resulting confusion yields a deeper lyricism and tone suggesting the metaphysical poets, as in “#30”:

alba, luster-white, I grasp & train after
lust I err ever depeopling a night

’s somnambulance with wicked
umbrage caught in what’s about ‘I am

what I yam’ ‘who I was at what I am’
animus-rushed against the racing

rushes
dear one
bid sleep’s entrance, receive his right [night’s]
eye so that


sleep-tugged might he
open the well

& talk

to keep us nourished
in the bed’s (indomitable) fury


I would never think of a bed as having “(indomitable) fury”; yet that seems right for a crown of poems about love. Readers will find such abundant and wry surprises throughout The Lover’s Numbers.

Susan Wheeler’s Everything And Below, Below, Below feels like a sad and profound pause in our history. She has taken text from Russell G. Creviston’s Everything and the Kitchen Sink (Farrar, Strauss & Cudahy, 1955), which celebrates the last century’s aggressive and conspicuous consumerism—where Americans are smart, wealthy, educated, creative, etc., etc.

“Below, Below, Below” refers to a 1908 song, “The Mermaid,” that Wheeler intertwines in the Creviston’s work and photos:

[…] the way to get ahead and to
make money is to give the public what it wants in large quantities
and always better or faster or cheaper than their competitors. With
a comb and a glass in her hand.

Scattered throughout, the Mermaid song becomes increasingly refreshing and real in contrast to Creviston’s hyperbole. Maybe the Mermaid is what we've been chasing, and that is the metaphor here. Creviston's fable of American industry is much more exotic. Wheeler is ingenious and timely in what she does—and the book’s poetic truth is more than a little painful right now.

Round the ‘Net
Once again, thanks to the following friends for sending me great links:

· Mary Ladd for this sweet indie short on validation

· Jay Shulman for Senator Franken’s Jagger impersonation.

· Linda Simone for this wild animation that has famous poets speaking their poetry (click on “Nearly 250 clips”)

· Gene Sosin for his essay recalling his student days at Columbia University

· Frank Vitale for this Elizabeth Gilbert talk on creativity.


Best birthday wishes to my brother Bill, and until next time!

Ann

your holiday annogram

There are too many great things going on…so here’s your holiday annogram a month early. First, you can find my poems in If Poetry Journal (scroll to “Kerning” below Superman article), Protest Poems, and Umbrella Journal. Then, we have assorted reviews and some soap thrown in for good measure—so read on!

Hence this cradle review in Absinthe
Thanks to Notre Dame Visiting Scholar and translator Anne Magnan-Park for her thoughtful review of Hence this cradle (Seismicity Editions) in Absinthe: New European Writing. Ms. Magnan-Park accurately describes Hence, my translation of Hélène Sanguinetti’s second book, as “a series of kaleidoscopic narratives through opening lines that function as a sibylline compass” and praises the translation as a “welcome dépaysement.”

Isabelle Garron and Rosmarie Waldrop at St. Mark’s Poetry Project
What a pleasure to hear Isabelle Garron read from Face Before Against (Litmus Press), a book my Seismicity Editor Guy Bennett calls “one of the most compelling works of French poetry to have been published in recent years.” Beloved poet and noted translator Rosmarie Waldrop, founder of Burning Deck Books, also read, treating us to intellectually playful prose poems. I’d never been to St. Mark’s—and the enjoyable event attracted a full house of noted translators and poets.

Inside The New York Times Book Review
Driving I-95, I stumbled on this WQXR (96.3 FM) program two Fridays ago at 6:05 p.m. Book Review editor Sam Tanenhaus interviews his reviewers about book events such as the National Book Awards. I was thrilled to hear my poetry teacher, Mark Doty, won the National Book Award for his collection, Fire to Fire (Harper Perennial). You can download podcasts of the program although I could not find a web site.

Anne-Marie McIntyre Open Studio
See the colorful, whimsical ceramic work, paintings and drawings by Hastings resident Anne-Marie McIntyre, December 5, 6 and 7, 12 noon to 5 p.m. at Studio 339, 145 Palisade Street in Dobbs Ferry. “Come and visit,” says Ms. McIntyre, “I have a lot of beautiful new work!” You can see this is true by visiting Studio 339 online. Before attending the Open Studio, please call 917-685-3516.

Book review: Désert
by Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio
Désert (Gallimard, 1980), parallels two stories: The journey of a contemporary girl from desert shantytown to Marseilles, and the flight of her Arab ancestors from soldiers bent on their destruction. Mr. Le Clézio, this year’s Nobel Prize winner for literature, captures the desert’s brutality with a lyricism that evokes the painter Rousseau (translation mine):

It was as if there were no names, here, as if there were no words. The desert wind washed all, erased all. Men had the freedom of space in their eyes, their skin like metal. Sunlight exploded everywhere. The sand ochre, yellow, gray, white, the light sand glistened, revealed the wind. It covered all traces, all bones. It pushed back light, it chased water, life, far from a center that no one would recognize. The men knew that the desert didn’t want them: so they walked without stopping, on paths that other feet had already run, to find something else. Water, it was in the aiun, the eyes, a sky color, or in damp beds of old mud streams. But this wasn’t water for pleasure, nor rest. It was only a trace of a glimmer on the desert surface, the parsimonious gift of a dry God, the last movement of life. Heavy water pulled from sand, which gave colic, which induced vomit. It was necessary to go further away, leaning in a little, in the direction given by the stars. (13-14)

Beyond the author’s narrative skill, the first story of desert nomads bears an uncanny likeness to the recent intervention in Iraq. This global insight, as well as literary skill, must have been a critical consideration in awarding the author the Nobel.

Book review: Qu’il faille by Isabelle Garron
Qu’il faille (Flammarion, 2007), poet Isabelle Garron’s fourth book, could be translated What may be necessary or What is needed. Gem-like stanzas on each page combine visual detail with a diarist’s reflective tone: Think of Jean Valentine’s emotional compactness combined with Brenda Hillman’s inventive punctuation (apologies to Eleni Siklelianos who is translating the book):

… & however! these deserts separating us is real today
as feeling your eyes cross the roses .. fffrrr .. fffrr
.. fffrrr Bagatelle roses .your hand new face this is ...

how to say & for this also .my silence .its voyage
(214)

This shorthand of well-placed image and telegraphed language suggests an unidentified emotional journey. Ms. Garron, like her colleague Hélène Sanguinetti, takes big and rewarding risks with language. It’s my pleasure to highly recommend this book. For more insight into her work, see the video interview at The Continental Review.

Film review: Un Conte de Noël (‘A Christmas Tale’)
Unfortunately, Père Noël brought a lump of coal with this one: Catherine Deneuve, a terminally ill matriarch, presides over a Christmas reunion of her three angry and estranged adult children. While the serpentine plot suggests one of the unstable offspring will do away with themselves—and honestly, I may have been wishing for that—the movie fails to transcend its tortured characters to find a satisfying resolution. IFC's Matt Singer praises this film as "one of the best dysfunctional family films" of the year, citing amazing performances and cinematic direction--which were both great. The most worthwhile part was recognizing dear friends seated in the row ahead!

‘Soap Makes People Happy’
That’s the Clean Ridge Soap Company motto and you’ll be delighted too with gift choices of natural scented soaps, lotions and scent diffusers. Shop online, call in a mail order or meet owner Mia Camacho-Fitzgerald in person December 14 at the new monthly winter Farmer’s Market at the County Center in White Plains—a treasure trove of fresh root vegetables, whole grain breads, quiches, and live music to boot.

’Round the Net

Thanks to:

· Artist Angela Virsinger for this great create-your-own-Picasso link.

· Frances Twiss for this inspiring story about our new president-elect.

· Madam Mayo for the National Book Critics blog, “Critical Mass.”

· ALTA member Erica Mena for this NPR story on translation.

· Composer Donald Sosin for this piece on re-scoring Superman cartoons.

· Cultural writer Julie Wiskirchen for this film panel review on “Doubt”.

· Poet Martie Palar for the link to literary videos on The Continental Review.

· Jackie Sheeler for turning me on to Good Reads, a book lovers’ site.

Thanks for participating in your annogram this past year with your encouraging comments and enthusiasm for each issue. May you have a holiday filled with wonder, peace, and good friends and family, as well as continued fulfilling creative work and rewards in 2009.

Ann

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