Now, Where Was I?

I can’t find the Atlas Theater. I drive in circular patterns through CU’s Boulder campus. Like a dream, something is familiar (I went to school here). When I’m lost I follow random people. I follow another car through the Do Not Enter sign, which takes me right there....

Light

Look. This is your world! You can’t not look. There is no other world. This is your world; it is your feast.  ~Chögyam Trungpa   “You may not feel the light, but you are the light.” That’s going to be my topic tonight, I decide. I am outside the studio before...

The Dance

The temple bell is done But the sound keeps ringing Out of the flowers   ~ Matsuo Bashō     The particular movements are familiar. Hug ground stretch and throw a leg over, curl up to sit. Melt down again. Hello moving body. Hello studio walls, torso, arms,...

Life (leaves without warning)

So you should view this fleeting world -- A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream, A flash of lightening in a summer cloud, A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream. ~ The Diamond Sutra     Sunday afternoon I attended a celebration of life ceremony for a...

Raising Cattle

In 2001 Thanksgiving Day Steve and I drive East on 66.   I was nervous to meet Steve’s Aunts and uncle and cousins, and nieces and their close friends. So we drive down the road and listen to all of Alice’s restaurant on the radio first.   I carry my bowl of...

People Writing Poems :: Memory Gardens

Holding a space for writing is similar to teaching choreography and improvisation. I have the luxury of no syllabus. I lie in bed the morning of the class and imagine each person. I think of their writing styles and desires. I think of what we have been working on,...

Clear Margins

Ordinary life fits the absolute as a box and its lid. The absolute works together with the relative like two arrows meeting in mid-air. *    Sandokai Harmony of Difference and Sameness                                       by Shitou Xiqian                    ...

 Polite Society

When you make a poem, you become an active soul, not a victim. ~ Gregory Orr     Driving up the thin dirt road above Jamestown to Jo and Glenn’s house I hug the land side. And then I can’t really hug the land side as my tires fit into tracks. Part of the road...

Katharine Kaufman

Katharine Kaufman

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