As I strive to improve my photography skills, I must remember the main thing that makes me a rotten photographer is habitually forgetting my camera on the most important occassions.
But folks more responsible than I am have promised to send photos of my Seattle escapade, from which I am returned by redeye entirely sleep deprived (and have done playing a brief stint as "the loopy professor" this afternoon).
Steph and Jacob's wedding was beautiful. I did my best to fulfill my duties as one of the four best women.
The only job that was a little scary was faking a confident saunter in my strapless gown. I think I did.
My favorite job was giving the bride permission to roll up the car windows and cuss cuss cuss with me if things got stressful, though she really didn't take me up on it. Probably on account of the aforementioned beauty going on. And because she's a lady.
My most important sight-seeing trip was to Open Books. A person really can hardly believe it is possible to stand in an
all poetry bookstore, but one can! And it's magical. I treated myself to the new Mary Ruefle and a Celan collection.
Speaking of magical, being able to read at the Jewel Box Theater with Amy Schrader, Anna Maria Hong, and Kary Wayson made me feel like a ruby brooch. Or a hat pin. Or a candy necklace. Something that belongs in a jewel box amongst the real sparkles. Amber Curtis: many thanks!
Cranky is hot. Do you have your copy?
Ooh! I updated the Imaginary Press site tonight. It's Alex Lemon and Steve Burt this month!
My pillow is singing to me. Nighty nighty.