Archive for time

Apes and aphids

Posted in poetry, random, this-n-that, writing, writing practice with tags , , , , , , on March 19, 2008 by bosquechica

aphidA few thoughts about writing:

I’ve started writing fiction and poetry in small groups again after a long break. In these I work freewrite style, loose and open associations with timed writings — see Red Ravine for more on that, they are the awesome goddesses of writing practice. I love fiction and poetry, and often have no idea what I’m writing about until I’ve read it aloud.

My latest piece of timed writing, The physics lesson of Australopithecus, (written Monday in 30 minutes) is sitting percolating over at Cuentos, my fiction and poetry blog. It is a circular prose poem about time and evolution (I think). The phrase “apes and aphids” is tucked into the piece somewhere and it caught my eye.

Now, in writing practice it’s not unusual to write things like “apes and aphids” without thinking about it, and then wonder where the phrase came from. Typically, I can’t resist the urge to google and today found that “apes to aphids” referenced both other poets and the biological sciences. Nice. I am a poet with a background in the sciences; it all makes sense.

Then I keep looking: From the Universidad Completense Madrid, I find lists of published works on the biological sciences, housed in the Royal Society of London.

These include:

Self-sacrificing gall repair by aphid nymphs;
Humans deceived by predatory stealth strategy camouflaging motion;
and
A naked ape would have fewer parasites

I love all of these titles.

 Then, as I’m fiddling around linking at will, I discover that wow, Red Ravine is writing about bugs today too! Coincidence? But then again, I just stepped on a bug in my hallway in the middle of the night and had to scrub my foot in the sink (ugh), so I guess it’s just spring.

In summary, isn’t writing amazing?

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And then there were 9

Posted in life with tags , , , on October 18, 2007 by bosquechica

Sometimes it seems to me there are no more than 9 minutes left in every day for writing and me I am not a linear or even a terribly productive person.

Yet I would say that a remarkable number of things do get done, in spite of my disinclination to do them. My friend Donna (who went, with her husband, to witness for us in Quebec) says that I am the most driven person she’s ever known.

This both baffles and flatters me (flaffle? blatter?), until I review, compare and contrast where we started, she and I as teenage runaways, hitchhiking from Las Cruces to Los Angeles without a single useable clue as to what we were doing or where we were going.

And somehow, even though I was patently less practical, more “at risk” than Donna (apologize for the quotes) by temperament and background, yet and still I kept going and going like an energizer bunny with chronically low batteries and somehow ended up with a bazillion years of education and surprising adventures and who woulda thunk it? Maybe the absence of a safety net had something to do with it? Yep, that’s me, up by the bootstraps and all.

Which is to say something like, how exactly did I get here?