Happy Birthday Mr. Shakespeare!

On the good end of things, apparently the number of cavity inducing bacteria in my mouth has dropped considerably. Better living through awful tasting mouthwash, I say!

Also I met with Dominic today & I am running sound for The Nice & The Nasty (& don't tell me I'm doing too much, this is after my thesis is due, & it's hardly any time at all since all I have to do is push the go button & it will keep me sane. So there). It was really nice being back in the theater again...man. I am definetely leaning toward Ireland instead of Royal Holloway. We'll see what happens...

& I have a topic for Donne class! I think. It made sense to me at midnight-thirty last night, which of course means nothing, but it still makes sense to me now, so hey. The next test is telling it out loud to Dr. McD in a few minutes. We'll see if I pass...

& I worked on my thesis like crazy yesterday. & found a few more sources, including a hilariously biased biography of Margaret from the 1960's, translated from the French. There are some parts that I'd really like to cite, but the man's prose is so flowery that his facts are suspect. Oh lord.

& finally, happy birthday to the bard! I would post my favorite sonnet (29--When in disgrace) in celebration, but roz_mcclure beat me to it, so another favorite:
(Sonnet 145)
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'
To me that languish'd for her sake;
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
'I hate' she alter'd with an end,
That follow'd it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away;
'I hate' from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying 'not you.'

Pixel-stained Technopeasant Wretch

Several links I just ran across, regarding the issue of posting one's artistic works online. Pixel-stained Technopeasant Wretchery Day comes from this post, which asks people to post one artistic work online, publicly and free (keep reading for the reason). The post also contains a link to the rationale behind this: SFWA's community & this post, a "rant" from Howard V. Hendrix, SWFA's current VP.
It's a fascinating piece, really--I'd say anyone involved in postable artistic works (words, photography, drawings, videos, anything) should read it. As one of the commentors said, "The Internet is today's public library," & while I adore the printed word like few things else, he has a point--the Internet is where a lot of new writers find a community & get a place in the world.

Hendrix has other ideas. Just a taste: "I think the ongoing and increasing sublimation of the private space of consciousness into public netspace is profoundly pernicious. ....
I'm also opposed to the increasing presence in our organization of webscabs, who post their creations on the net for free. A scab is someone who works for less than union wages or on non-union terms; more broadly, a scab is someone who feathers his own nest and advances his own career by undercutting the efforts of his fellow workers to gain better pay and working conditions for all. Webscabs claim they're just posting their books for free in an attempt to market and publicize them, but to my mind they're undercutting those of us who aren't giving it away for free and are trying to get publishers to pay a better wage for our hard work."

Call me crazy, but that feels a little like a slap in the face. Sure, field_of_ink, where I post all my works, is friend-only--partly for the private feeling, partly just to monitor who is reading it, partly because that is a way to keep it in my own domain legally so I could publish it later--but I have never once turned down a request to friend that journal, nor will I ever, unless I find someone purposefully maligning it in some way, which is supremely unlikely.

But I think the point of this posting--friends-only or not--is the sharing of it. I am not John Donne; unlike the 17th century gentleman poets, I don't have the advantage of a tight-knit coterie of like-minded writers with whom I share my work, who all live in close proximity; I can't circulate manuscripts like that. Livejournal is my version of coterie manuscript writing. It's how I share my work, ask for feedback, & read other writers' works, both by friends & strangers I've never met.

So, I will now hold my pixel-stained, technopeasant wretch head up high, & give you my latest poem. I doubt many people will see this that can't see it in FoI, but hey. It's the gesture I'm going for. So, scary & public, here you go:

( metaphysical conceits )