I read a poem a long time ago called Unchopping A Tree by W.S. Merwin and I'm going to write about it here because I still really like that poem. Or actually I don't know if it's technically a poem. I don't know poetry as much as I'd like to. I've never breathed it in as easily as some others do. But Merwin is great because he says what he means so plainly. I could understand why someone might find him uninteresting but I think I like him because his words aren't hiding him.
This poem, if I can call it that, is a big, lengthy explanation of how to put a tree back together after it's been chopped into pieces. It's beautiful and I want it to be about me now so that's what I'm thinking about tonight.
I feel like I've been chopped into pieces over the past year and I'm putting everything back together as best as I can, but I can't even recognize myself anymore and sometimes I don't like that.
But W.S. Merwin makes me want to sing the blues and I like that. So I continue to read his poems.
I keep updating this blog with my feelings. I'd rather update with art. That might not happen for a while.
