I connect you to the words that connect you
to yourself.
You already know the words.
You already know the words to everything you are ever going to write.
You have already repurposed 26 letters into tens of thousands of expressions of hundreds of thousands of ideas.
You’ve already said what you know how to say, and now you want to say something new, something different, something you can feel but can’t quite put into words.
I’m Paula, & I like metaphors. I’m a writer, teacher, professor, Gen-Xer, cat-lover, thrifter, organizer/reorganizer, planner, & change-maker. I am a wife & mother. And the chief poetry officer of capturingdevice.com.
Welcome to my web, my capturing device, my frayed asterisk at the corner.
Capturing Device, the website and the blog, is for me what I hope it will also be for you—poetic license to rewrite myself (yourself, ourselves) on the world. As a poet, teacher, & changemaker, I capture the everyday, every day & give it back in startling & familiar ways.
We already know the words. We just need to find the ones we want and put them to hard use.
Giving sagacious women poetic license to rewrite themselves on the world.
But do I have to write a blog?
Some words feature their ugly with a sound and mouth feel that lingers after the word is gone (sludge, gusset, fetid). Like acid colors and triangle patterns in nature, they warn you to stay away.
Others engage the sickly boniness of their aristocratic inbreeding (pulchritude, bucolic, effulgence) to simply scare you off & save them from doing work. And some are linguistic carrion flowers that lure you in with their liquid sibilance before springing their deadly denotations (acquiesce, hirsute, silverfish).
But a word like blog doesn’t threaten or disdain or tease. It doesn’t do anything but sit, like a tepid lump of beige (not even griege)—unformed, flabby, & tired.
Blog is the sole-surviving syllable of a shantytown portmanteau: weblog. Blog has survivor’s guilt. It’s a purposely ugly word, blog. There has to be something better.
So today, and probably tomorrow, I will explore other words to denote and connote this weblog of musings, missives, and meanderings. This confluence of ephemera, this commonplace, this capturing device.
Not complete but drawing your attention, marking out a space. It is violent, strategic, and imprisoning. It is beautiful, vulnerable, and strong.
Michelangelo in Palimpsest
There is a vista deep in each moment of decision that is replete with what we thought we’d lost and what we did not know we had.
Summering is a Year-round Activity
June, July, and August paint a triptych in yellow, red, and orange; pigments of life's vibrancy. A trifecta of time, sunshine, & company arranged to rearrange.
Here. Now Here. Nowhere.
How do we inhabit that now here/nowhere after one line ends and before another begins?
How to Rock the How, part 1.
After so many weeks of dancing around the Why, it’s time jump out of the cake and rock the Hows, baby.
I Can Eat My Cake & Have it Too.
I just want to do what I want to do when I want to do it.
I am, once again, asking for input, for a sign. I’m still attempting to decide the business part of the business of me—what teaching and learning opportunities I should embrace this fall.