I keep wondering why AWP seems to resist my attempts to interpret it, report on it. For some reason, I don’t think I can write today without first saying a word or two about it, but now that I’ve set down to do that, I think I’d rather be folding clothes.
What I’d like to do is make a long, long list of all the great, sweet people I saw over the weekend. I’d like to say that hearing Thomas James’ poems in the voices of Mark, Rigoberto Gonzales, Tracy Smith, and Mark Wunderlich broke my heart. I’d like to say that being a part of Renata Golden’s memoir panel was delight—-not just to give my talk on nonlinearity, but to listen to Beth Kohl, Christian Sheppard, and Erin Hogan on their ideas for refreshing the form.
So, for those of you who went… (8,000 people? Really?) Are you still as shredded, flooded as I am today?
Below: I sit on Hilton hallway floor in complete exhaustion.
2 comments:
I'm flooded, too, Paul. I was broken hearted and inspired at the Thomas James panel & then the next day at the tribute for Jason Shinder. An odd mix of feelings.
And now, recharging. I slept the whole day. The towels will fold themselves....
Ah, I wish I'd had the energy to go to Jason's tribute: I'm sure it was incredible. But I'm glad we got to sit near each other at the Thomas James. I'm also glad to hear you're recharging. It's always makes me happy to see you, James.
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