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Happy New Year!

What does 2009 hold? Well, for me it apparently includes detoxification and a 12-Step program for recovery from a newfangled device called internet radio as found on the site Pandora.com.

This Pandora? She is something all right. Best relationship of my life. She just knows me. When I am out and about, I can’t stop thinking of what songs she might recommend for me and I am like 6 albums deep into stuff I need to buy now. It is truly something. Of course, having Pandora recommend bands I made fun of ex-girlfriends for is a bit humbling, but Pandora gets me through it. If this sounds like a commercial, call the Pandora people and tell them. What a concept: A poetry/painting blog with endorsements. Tiger Woods here I come.

BOOKS:
So, I got a crazy stomach bug right after Christmas which was brutal. But if there was a bright side in having my life pass before my eyes, along with some things I ate in grade school, it was having time to tear through my Christmas haul of books.

Jonathan Lethem’s “You Don’t Love Me Yet,” was amazing, and Tom Perrotta’s “the Abstinence Teacher,” was pretty great. So was Elmore Leonard’s “City Primeval,” and “Batman: Dark Victory.” I think I would recommend the book on tape version of “You Don’t Love Me Yet,” as read by the author. Either way it is a winner, but there is something great about Lethem making it into poetry as he reads. I laughed out loud and was awestruck a bunch.

POETRY:
Also part of the Christmas haul was the score of David Kirby’s book of poetry, The House on Boulevard Street. There are reminders of Kenneth Koch in the humor, some hints of my love for Alexie in the pop references. And, as far as pop is concerned, he quotes Roy Lichtenstein in a poem which, of course, had me swooning.

In other news, I have been collecting rejection slips: Harper’s, Poetry, and Third Coast. Should these begin appreciating like baseball cards in the early 80’s, I will be sitting on a gold mine. Trade you two Mississippi Review rejection notes for my near-mint “no” from the Yale Series of Younger Poets. Yes, I am well aware I am beginning to hit the cusp of entry requirements for the Yale Younger. Ouch.

In other, other news, I have been working on some new poems, which is always a good thing. Until Tin House gets a hold of them. Then it’s heartbreak.

MUSIC:
So, I have introduced my new mistress Pandora. Thought it was funny that she recommended a song titled “Poetically Pathetic,” by a band named Amber Pacific to me last night. Maybe all poets should heed the warning of this poppy EMO jam. Soon, they will play it at commencement addresses for MFA programs. Poetically Pathetic. I laughed and laughed.

EXAMINER.COM:
Have my first two articles written for Examiner.com and it’s a lot of fun. As most 617Midway blog readers know, there are few things I enjoy as much as making visual art accessible and contemporary. Examiner.com gives me some good leeway to combine references to Adam Sandler movies, Wu-Tang Clan members, 80’s trivia and the happenings on the Boston art scene.

You can check my articles out at:

Examiner.com

And subscribe to my regular pieces there as well. Pass the word.

AND, OF COURSE, CEZANNE:
One of the books I just wrapped up was “The Judgment of Paris” by Ross King, which was a great, great book. Great writing and good insight on my favorite cast of characters since Dawson’s Creek: from Manet to Courbet, Monet to Cezanne. Filled me in a lot more on Manet (I was more comfortable with Courbet and Monet beforehand) and did a great job of illustrating the parallel between a rising art movement and cultural/societal changes. Long story short: A great read if you want to know more about Manet especially—and Impressionism as well.

My favorite parts of the book came when Cezanne made a guest appearance. He is always dejected and surly. Maybe my fav quote from the book is the following:

Cezanne had been persistent, going to the Palais des Champs-Elysees each March, as another friend wryly observed, “Carrying his canvases on his back like Jesus with his cross”—and then bearing them, stamped with a red R, back to his grubby studio. Such martyrdom began to grate. Cezanne’s constant rejection made him even more bitter and cantankerous than usual on the rare occasions when he could be tempted to join the company in the café Guerbois. Asked by Manet on one such circumstance whether he intended to submit anything to the Salon, Cezanne had retorted: “Yes, a pot of shit!”
(The Judgement of Paris, Ross King, p. 228)

Ahh, a pot of shit from Cezanne. What better way to start 2009?

Image above is from Harley.com, Cezanne "Apples, Peaches, Pears and Grapes" [1879-1880]