Seven is Magic: book news, more weavings, a question for you, and the pleasure of making things
I still own Seven Is Magic, my second grade reader, with its memorable purple cover. A little surprisingly (though happily), this book includes a poem by Langston Hughes (!). Sadly, I have no memory of reading that poem or of anything else inside this book, but I did take to the idea that “seven is magic.”
And seven definitely does feel magical as I think about my seventh full-length collection, The Return from Calvary, which I’m so happy to announce is forthcoming in Fall 2025 from the very wonderful 42 Miles Press. I’m grateful to work again with 42 Miles and editor David Dodd Lee. It feels good to be with a press that publishes great work in beautiful editions. Book publication is never easy, and seven is definitely magic.
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The title for this book comes from a (scary) 1891 painting by Herbert Gustav Schmalz, a print of which hung in my grandmother’s house. At least I thought the painting was scary when I was a little girl.
After my dad had a stroke in 2014, this painting and the feelings it depicts were often on my mind. Suffering, and witnessing suffering, and, now, beauty, are what this image means to me. The poems in my book take up these same themes: suffering, and what it’s good for; the strange intermingling of loss and beauty; unexpected sorrow and, amidst that, unexpected mercy and tenderness, and, maybe off-stage just a little, humor, pleasure, any reprieve... all those things we need.
I hope you will keep an eye out for this new book. In the meantime, my website has info about my other books. Thank you, always, for reading! It means so much.
I’ve not been writing much these days, though I have been reading a lot of odes and elegies and list poems and abecedarians by my students. Maybe you want to write one of more of those?!
When I have time, my focus during this busy semester has been on weaving! And I feel about weaving the way I felt about poetry when I first began to write seriously. Back then, I bought a lot of books; nowadays I’m really accumulating quite a stash of yarn and other fibers. Not a bad thing!
Recent work includes “Kismet” and “Socialite,” both just six-inches, and “Little Jeannie” (yes, named after the Elton John song), 10-inches. I think my style — or as my students say, my “brand” (!) — is emerging.
Should I sell my weavings? I’m thinking about it. Please feel free to leave a comment if you have thoughts about this!
I have so many weavings planned, including these four:
Maybe you see something you like?!
No new recipes this time, but here are two super simple Valentine’s (or, if you’re like me, anytime) treats.
First, good ol’ box brownies but all fancied up with sprinkles. Just toss ‘em on and bake. Super cute. Think I’ll do this again come St. Patrick’s Day.
And you know by now my love of white cake. I’ve shared a couple of recipes in the past. Last week I had no time, so again turned to a mix (Duncan Hines is my favorite) and doctored it up a tad: heavy cream instead of water. Makes a huge difference! Regular milk or buttermilk would have been fine too, but heavy cream was what I had, so that’s I used.
Formerly a reluctant cupcake maker, I’ve become a teensy bit obsessed because I so enjoy doing the frosting. This is just buttercream (if buttercream can ever be described as “just”), but piping it on makes all the difference. And, of course, a bespoke (still my favorite word!) mix of sprinkles adds that extra something special. Very “ta da!” In case you were wondering, my students are the beneficiaries of all this baking.
Funny story: I did not go to kindergarten (it was not required way back when), so the transition from the halcyon days of time with my mom (shopping! eat fancy donuts called “lunch sticks”! playing dolls on the dining room floor! having secret adventures while all my siblings were at school!) to the stark reality of first grade was not so easy. To make matters worse, the very first reading book (Seven Is Magic’s predecessor) was the oddly named A Duck Is a Duck. What??! That was and remains my response to that title.
I knew how to read when I got to school (my mom and the ever-persuasive Chicklets had seen to that), but I did not know the duck book. Like any decent person with older parents, I knew Dick and Jane. No Dick and Jane? No can-do. Faced with ducks, I announced I could not read. By which I meant I couldn't read that book. The teacher of course put me in the lowest reading group, aptly named something like “the busy bees.” When I told my mom that I was a bee, she was outraged; I was to march into school the very next day and show that I could read (and well, too!) and be promoted to the highest group: the shooting stars, or something along those lines. I can’t remember telling the beautiful Miss Johnson (I will never forget her! Swoon!) that she had made a mistake, but I must have. I assumed my rightful place among the shooting stars though I think I felt, and certainly feel now, a fondness for the bees. Industrious, zippy, cute outfit: what’s not to like?
School is full of such mishaps and mysteries. All these years later and in and out of classrooms every day, I think that more than ever.
Anyway, here I am in my busy bee-shooting star days when my barrette game was strong and my clothes were nothing special and pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself. This photo was taken at a “Variety Show” that my older sisters were performing in at school. Variety shows are another early model for how I teach, for Cake & Poetry, probably even for how I live my life: a little of this, a little of that; take what you need; it’s all good.
Cake & Poetry is, I’m realizing, about the pleasure of making stuff. Cake, poetry, a weaving, a garden...
My friend Erin, of Moxie Cat Quilts, and I were recently discussing just how great it is to make things. I feel very lucky to do so and to share those things and the process with you all.
I hope this week finds you making something with your hands, your heart, your whole self.
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I’ll end with a much older poem, a prose poem (!), which appeared in Inside the Yellow Dress (New Issues, 2001), my second book, and which someone kindly wrote to me about just recently. I hadn’t read this one in a long time. I like it! I hope you do too.
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Ok, take care! Next time: news about summer/fall workshops! Stay tuned.
Yes, you should sell them. I would be interested, depending on how much they are. Might be cute to hang, like, three together with complementary color stories. Or three that are wildly different.