Poetry You Can Dance To

Scott Glassman sent his podcast to me last week, but I only got around to listening to it now. It's very cool, you should definitely check it out.

I love it when poets (or anyone, for that matter) pursue creative projects. Especially the kind that are "given" away. We're in a time and place that only puts worth on how much money can be made. Sometimes it seems that if you can't make money from it (or if it won't make you "famous"), it's not worth doing. Hey, I'm all for getting paid! When I had the time to devote 20 hours a week to designing jewelry, you bet your sweet ass I got paid. Those beads and findings cost $$. It was definitely something I enjoyed doing, but it should be noted that my original motivation was to create pieces for myself instead of overpaying at a retail store. I'd see something at Neiman Marcus for $500, I'd make something similar in two hours and spend $40. Friends and acquaintances wanted pieces, I sold things on eBay and festivals. . .

. . . and family and friends were really impressed by that. A family member said, "All that school for poetry and who would have ever thought you'd be making jewelry!" I pointed out that jewelry was a side thing and that poems were always more important. She didn't understand. She was trying to pay me a compliment and I was (again) being obstinate. As far as she was concerned, I finally was doing something that had worth.

Obviously I don't agree with that, but what can you do? You can keep pursuing what has worth to you and accept your nearest and dearest probably won't get it and most of society won't appreciate it until it garners a big-studio movie deal. Maybe it was always like this, I don't know. My memory of past lives is pretty hazy.

I LOVE jewelry. If I don't get a piece of jewelry for Christmas -- the holiday is ruined. I have a huge box of it brimming with pieces and I'm always adding to it. Beading was satisfying and there are a few pieces I'm pretty proud of. Some day I might go back to it when it's no longer a death-risk to have tiny beads strewn all over the house. But NEVER has creating a piece of jewelry or gazing at the lovely finished product been equal to writing or completing a poem -- even if 99 out of 100 people prefer the necklace and forever keep asking when I'll be getting back to work.