Thursday, October 7, 2010
If you've wondered where I am, my apologies: Gael and I have been up to our ears in a major move from Victoria to B.C.'s Sunshine Coast. We now live in Roberts Creek, a beautiful little community next door to Gibson's Landing of Beachcombers fame, a mixed community of artists, musicians and writers that ripples with energy - by way of example, poet and novelist George Payerle, who put us on to the property and is our neighbour across the street. Thank-you, George.
I gather that to be "a Creeker" is some distinction, though what initiation rites await us remain unclear (running naked through the coniferous woods, covered in spruce gum, long howls below a midnight moon?). As a result, I've barely had a chance to crack any of the books of poems that have materialized on my desk in the past few months. An oversight to be rectified shortly for anyone who cares; so bare with us, please, as we attempt to recover our lives from beneath all these boxes.
"Thank you very much for this amazing and delicious web blog. Feast! Makes me want winter and rain to last and last so I can cling to my chair with impunity and read, listen, write." Martha Royea.
"Read the interviews with Hester Knibbe and Catherine Graham...they were wonderful. Refreshing to read such straightforward writing about poetry. Most helpful and will share with writing friends. Thank you for your work." Wendy Crumpler.
"Thank you David, for this resurrection, rebirth, reincarnation, return." Sharon Marcus
Intelligent poetic discourse." Linda Rogers