I write novels now and every spring, in addition to reading Chaucer and Boccaccio and revisiting the Sonnets for the last five years I've been working on an autobiographical text entitled PINTA PARADE which is aptly about the Young Columbus contest we both had the privilege of experiencing in our formative high school years. For me the the trip totally changed the discourse of my life. I went from being a melted vanilla ice washed-up wannabe who used to toss up ersatz gang signs in the south side of Peoria on Friday nights to dipping into the world of the arts which has invariably led me to my blessed vocation as a writer t'day. I only work on PINTA PARADE during the month of April and its a cozy lil' 500 page single-space illegitimate inky slopfest but hopefully either this year or the next it will be done and I can move on to writing more novels about spring. That said, and if you are interested or have time, (no rush) I would feel honored to hear any stories or remembrances of things past or emotional errata or sauntered upon photographs you have collectively culled from yer trip to Paris back in '92 (the brilliant rhetoric of your oration totally kicked my ass that year, but I still think your speech the first year when you employed the newspaper bag as a visual was untouchable and easily should have won)... same invitation extends to your sister Gail is she ever feels like reminiscing. No rush and please don't feel obligated. As I said, the trip altered my life, and it is always interesting to hear how the experience of being shuffled to Europe on the onset of puberty and experiencing the swirl of the globe might have changed the lives of others as well.
Good hearing from you again fellow YC alum. In the immortal maxim of Rumi, "Let the beauty you love be what you do." Sorry To hear about rev. Freudenburg. I met him maybe all of twice but remember his demure handshake and kindness and love of the faith very vividly. The Lutheran faith (god love it)...sometimes when I've had too many beers I still find myself gutturally humming the chorus to "Come thy fount of every blessing," into the overhead nest of the stars.....
PARADE MAGAZINE YOUNG COLUMBUS PROGRAM....seeking communication w. fellow alums (any year) would love to hear yer story....
ReplyDeleteLetter to Karen Christmas, date late 2010..
ReplyDeleteI write novels now and every spring, in addition to reading Chaucer and Boccaccio and revisiting the Sonnets for the last five years I've been working on an autobiographical text entitled PINTA PARADE which is aptly about the Young Columbus contest we both had the privilege of experiencing in our formative high school years.
For me the the trip totally changed the discourse of my life. I went from being a melted vanilla ice washed-up wannabe who used to toss up ersatz gang signs in the south side of Peoria on Friday nights to dipping into the world of the arts which has invariably led me to my blessed vocation as a writer t'day. I only work on PINTA PARADE during the month of April and its a cozy lil' 500 page single-space illegitimate inky slopfest but hopefully either this year or the next it will be done and I can move on to writing more novels about spring. That said, and if you are interested or have time, (no rush) I would feel honored to hear any stories or remembrances of things past or emotional errata or sauntered upon photographs you have collectively culled from yer trip to Paris back in '92 (the brilliant rhetoric of your oration totally kicked my ass that year, but I still think your speech the first year when you employed the newspaper bag as a visual was untouchable and easily should have won)... same invitation extends to your sister Gail is she ever feels like reminiscing. No rush and please don't feel obligated. As I said, the trip altered my life, and it is always interesting to hear how the experience of being shuffled to Europe on the onset of puberty and experiencing the swirl of the globe might have changed the lives of others as well.
Good hearing from you again fellow YC alum. In the immortal maxim of Rumi, "Let the beauty you love be what you do." Sorry To hear about rev. Freudenburg. I met him maybe all of twice but remember his demure handshake and kindness and love of the faith very vividly. The Lutheran faith (god love it)...sometimes when I've had too many beers I still find myself gutturally humming the chorus to "Come thy fount of every blessing," into the overhead nest of the stars.....