Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Saturday, July 26, 2008

The Mystery of the Present Moment



This title sounds like one a poet would choose, doesn't it? It comes from novelist Milan Kundera, however, and I've lifted it from his most recent book, THE CURTAIN, by way of DOCUMENT, a publication of the Duke Center for Documentary Studies. Kundera writes of "...the richness contained in a single second of life," and also makes mention of "the existential scandal of insignificance." I found these phrases in Sylvia Plachy's introduction to the collection of work entitled 25 UNDER 25, showcasing twenty-five American photographers under the age of 25. Plachy maintains that these three phrases sum up most photographers' concerns as well.

I'd say they sum up most artists' concerns, regardless of genre or medium. Not to mention most gardeners, quilters, parents, and teachers, to limit myself to a short list. Artists' concerns may be felt and expressed more passionately, in terms of sharing the vision that animates their work, perhaps. But I've always felt that anybody can step into what Eavan Boland calls "the center of the lyric moment."

I've always wanted passion in my own work, as well as the work of artists to whom I give my attention. Passion roots us to the here and now.

This time of year, the passion flowers are spreading over the grass around our garden. I'm glad to have them there. I wish they could bloom all year long, but it's up to me to keep them blooming in other ways after they have shut down for another season.

3 comments:

Vicki Lane said...

What amazing flowers! They seem to belong in a tropical rain forest. Their complexity is a marvel.

And how true about those phrases summing up the concerns of other artists -- back when I did some painting, I often thought of the German philosopher Kant's phrase "ding an sich" or "the thing in itself" -- that being what I was trying to capture. Just as you do in your poetry.

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

When I first began writing poetry, the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke was my main man. His "dinge" poems had a huge influence on me, and I go back to them when I need to be reminded of why I got into this po-biz in the first place. I may put a couple of his poems up on the blog.
I'd like to get back to some drawing/painting. I almost became a visual arts major.
Maybe I should write a passion flower poem.
Vicki, why don't you write one, too? And everybody else who reads this!

Vicki Lane said...

Hmmmm . . . I may take your challenge. And if I ever finish this Miss Birdie book, I might paint a passion flower.