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furunati:

My college students dread writing and reading. It’s time to re-think the way we teach.

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*photo credit: Susan Sermoneta, Flickr Creative Commons*

One of the earliest assignments in my first-year seminar is a reading and writing autobiography. Basically, I want my students to tell me who…

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davidjphooker:

도자기제작과정(종합편) (by 이천시청)

Do I do anything in my entire life with this kind of care? I hope, maybe, one day to do a single thing this carefully and expertly. One thing.

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Here is desire and the possibility of intimacy (more tentative, perhaps, in similes rather than metaphors); this is the urge towards connection in spite of the evidence of abuse and the risk of pain and regret.  Is the risk of the “Mouth on the nipple / Above my heart” worth taking? How can you know until you open and enter the vulnerable door? 

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Maundy Thursday, On the Run

An old poem from a book that’s now, yikes, 11 years old. Still, closest thing we Mennonites have to a sacrament is foot washing.

Maundy Thursday, On the Run

"You also ought to wash one another’s feet."
—John 13:14

To find a body willing is hard. In the mall, I asked old women, young men, a few clerks—could I please wash your feet? I held out a brand new bar of soap and a full blue plastic basin. The pink towel on my shoulder was clean.

And as you might expect, some folks dismissed this as a ploy. A wide man wearing green suggested I kiss his wide ass instead. His leather work boots squeaked against the tile as we each declined the other’s gesture.

It was a revelation just how many claimed their feet were plenty clean: tiny women in gossamer shoes; boys in sleek white Nikes; a cop’s polished black oxfords shone.

By the time I found someone, the water had grown cold. Yet he only winced a bit at the initial dip of his heel. Callused skin on the balls of his feet and a sharp nail on his big toe kept him from being a stranger. After dabbing dry his skin, I handed him his socks. He knotted up his laces. He asked was it my turn now? But by then I had to run.

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from Bach’s Unpublished Bestiary

The Two-Toed Sloth Discovers He Is a Deadly Sin

It came to him slowly, as with everything.
Hanging by his several strong toes over the road,
he heard the words of two hurried priests: each day
one would trump the other considering the trees,
the day-lilies in their orange chaos, and, one afternoon,
the sagging sloth as he seemed to nap above them.
He gathered, over months, like grubs how they disapproved
of his look, of his gaze at them through half-lidded eyes.
Little he could do besides drift into a free and dense state,
besides dangle from his strength and hear, like a litany,
the afternoon’s lazy, purposeful chirr.

forthcoming in The Small Books of Bach

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ayjay:

Archguitarists Peter Blanchette and Elliot Gibbons performing J.S. Bach’s Prelude 15, from the 2nd book of the Well-Tempered Clavier. Northampton Center for the Arts, March, 2013

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What Does a Prof Do? Days 27-28

It’s taken me a while to post the last two days of my “What Does a Prof Do?” month long series of photos. For those who don’t recall, here’s why I posted these photos. After seeing what this past Feb. looks like, I think there’s a reflective essay percolating. It will involve computer screens, grading, driving, snow, and other people. Beyond that, I still have to think about what I’ve discovered. Until then, here are the final two images:

What Does a Prof Do? Day 27—Scopes Out the Book Fair for Bargains to Take Back to the College Library

What Does a Prof Do? Day 28—Presents a Panel with Three Other Very Talented Poets

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A sarabande for Bach’s birthday. This, from the third cello suite. Note: I don’t think you can sing “happy birthday” to it, even in German. But go ahead and try.

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artxsmart:


‘when you see the amazing sight’ 
after ‘wanderer above the sea of fog’ by caspar david friedrich, 1818

artxsmart:

‘when you see the amazing sight’

after ‘wanderer above the sea of fog’ by caspar david friedrich, 1818

(via ayjay)

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What Does a Prof Do?—Day 26—Off to AWP 

What Does a Prof Do?—Day 26—Off to AWP