My sister gave me this sketchbook as a Christmas present. It sat on my desk for two months. Then, last night, after getting home from a concert, I decided to fill it up with an extended, rambling essay/poem, using the "Hark! Angles!" theme as a catalyst and guide. I wrote for nearly four hours straight, stretched out on the floor using a colored pencil set that belongs to my small children. Some of the innocence and cliche in the language makes it feel like a notebook I might have kept in high school, when I first began recording poetic fragments. I used different colors and wrote myself into several dead-ends, using imagery of birds, angels and flight to set my thoughts free again. Although I continued to write in my head, in my sleep, the sketchbook is a one-take affair. At some point, I might distill its contents into a more chiseled poem, but for now, its colorful, kinetic scribbles are a welcome reminder of what thoughts and images can stir to life with the right materials on hand.
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