Outside of Civilization

This is where I'm going:

Burning Man 2008

I have my tent, dust goggles, bandanna, camelbak, hopefully everything I need to survive in the middle of the desert for a week. Also my pens and of course notebook.

Don't really know what I'm doing, but what's the fun in always knowing?

Working. Or something like it.

Check out this entry I came across today, it's quite interesting:

"I Do Not Submit!" By Troubled Guest, M. R. Shamasneh


Sitting peacefully on the Oregon Coast, doing more thinking about writing than actual writing.

Times, dates, Petersburg...

I am having trouble with days, dates, timing things. It has been a month since my last post. But this is not an accident; I have not wanted to admit that I am no longer in St. Petersburg! I have been to Israel and have returned to the United States since then.

I have been to Petersburg twice and still want to return. I do not speak Russian. I do not know what it is about that place: the city, the light, the language. Or maybe it is the incredible people I meet each time I go - though this could be more to do with the Summer Literary Seminars than with that city. But neither would be what it is without the other, for me. And I could not be what I am today without either, as well.

::
Reading
"The Collected Stories" - Amy Hempel
"I Love Artists: New and Selected Poems" - Mei Mei Berssenbrugge
"Crime and Punishment" - Fyodor Dostoevsky

[Untitled] 118

We shall meet again, in Petersburg,

as though we had buried the sun there,

and then we shall pronounce for the first time

the blessed word with no meaning.

In the Soviet night, in the velvet dark,

in the black velvet Void, the loved eyes

of blessed women are still singing,

flowers are blooming that will never die.

--Osip Mandelstam, tr. Clarence Brown and W.S. Merwin

Rain, Nevsky Prospekt

On her last night in St. Petersburg, she said to me "I have realized this is just a very lonely city."

And I agree with her.

I can't quite pinpoint it, but there's a pervasive loneliness. It could be the buildings, timeless in their decay, or the ridiculous number of brides that pass in front of the beautiful churches and gardens day after day that seem to be alone. Merely the idea of togetherness hinted at by the couples on the streets.

I'm also thinking of the constant weariness from the sleepless sun. Missing all the fantastic people that I only met two weeks ago but have come to know so well. Hoping to keep in touch.

Graffiti, etc.

St. Petersburg, Russia. Outside Mayakovsky Library

Inspired by K.'s wonderful photographs from last year, I came upon a photo-worthy tag of my own. A questioning glance.

Here in Petersburg, time doesn't exist and when you realize this, it is all gone. I have been here for more than a week now, and I will be leaving in 11 days. I am obsessed with the sun. Minimal amounts of sleep even amount in the most ridiculous dreams; witnessed seizures, seductions, murders in my head.

I have written. I have read. Workshop has been great. I went to Peterhoff Palace today and watched the fountains. This is something you should see.

I am trying to talk to this woman I met here. I have this feeling. I am afraid that I have talked about it too much so it has merely become a projection. But it persists. A desire to discuss the writing, my writing and her own. Hopefully this conversation will take place soon.

Kazan Cathedral, no clouds

I am in St. Petersburg! I am sitting in "The Office" restaurant, enjoying free wi-fi and a beer! I am also distracted by memory, its insistence and lack.

It always comes with advantages and disadvantages. Though I still don't speak the language, I am familiar with the area and more confident in my ability to point and gesture for things than I was last year. I remember the cathedrals, the streets, the restaurants, the perpetual light. Beer at 2 in the afternoon, to be ingested as water...When I arrived yesterday I couldn't believe it when I looked at my watch and it was 11:30 pm, and still light!

But I miss the people - I miss everyone I met here and knew last year. I miss the workshop, the amazing poetry.

On my list (what I didn't get to do last year): Pushkin's house, St. Isaac's Cathedral, absinthe...
more to come...