April thus far has been an inspiring and humbling month. I write more in April and October than in other months, and I have written more in the last week than in most Aprils.
But it's still so little that I feel I'm squandering time and delaying development in my work. With the last poetry packet I sent to my current advisor at Pacific's MFA program, I know I didn't write as well as I could have, and it was almost a relief to have the feedback from Mr. B. that confirmed where I took short cuts or just fell short. I have a better sense of what to do, although still not - yet - the all-consuming subject (except Wales, of course) that might compel and guide my work further.
Perhaps I am afraid of passion making poetry. It's so messy and time-consuming. But what kind of tidy passionless poet ever got anywhere?
On another note, a picture of the hive the first day the bees were installed in it. The new tenants are buzzing in front of the box, orientating themselves to remember where "home" is. D. took the picture and sent it to me at work to reassure me.
I think I may call this hive the Margo hive. In part because I'd like to name all hives based on Queens and there was a Queen Margo (although her story is mixed at best), but also because it was from a swarm from Margo Lane. Or I may call it the "blue hive" or the "sky hive." We shall see. I'd almost rather not name it anything until I'm sure it's well-established. I must wait for the next very warm day to check on it. This weekend may be too chilly.
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