Sara Holbrook author/poet/educator
January 15, 2012
In a world where 65 year olds have no wrinkles, where
Photoshop magically gives adult women the 18 inch waist Scarlett O’Hara dreamed
of, and spell check makes us all appear more clever than we really are, you
would think I would be used to the idea that nothing is as it appears.
January 2, 2012
Michael took this picture (okay, I begged and whined a little asking for this angle and that) in the botanical gardens in Singapore. I was limping along and this sculpture embodied who I wanted to be.
So, this is my screen saver and pictorial inspiration for 2012.
2012. Riding into the second decade of this new century.
December 2, 2011
The fall of 2011.
And then . . . Singapore, Beijing, Newark, Mantua, Chicago,
D.C.
Because travel is part of the job of a self-employed writer,
busted pelvis or no.
Last night I was walking the three
September 9, 2011
On Sunday Michael and I, along with 3 other Cleveland poets will be honored to read poems of our choosing at a Cleveland Orchestra Concert commemorating 9/11. The poems I chose were Jerusalem by Naomi Shihab Nye and Reality Demands by Wislawa Szymborska and a sonnet of my own. I am posting
July 3, 2011
There’s nothing poetical about getting your feet cut — voluntarily. The pain really has to be too much before you present yourself at the hospital, turn over all your worldly possessions, and naked under one of those drafty robes say just do it. My pain hit that tipping point coming out of Melbourne
June 21, 2011
Sometimes writing by assignment can bring some surprising results, This morning Michael led the teachers in his memoir activity. In my brainstorm I felt compelled to write down “prom dress.” I started to censor myself. Prom dress? Birds. Lice. Prom dress? But I just decided to go with it.
May 2, 2011
April 26, 2011
It happened again. This time a young woman. College aged. She came up to me after our recent poetry reading at Bowling Green University Firelands campus.
“Do you believe?”“Believe?”“Religion. You know, Jesus. Are a believer?”“I believe in poetry.”“That’s it?”“That’s it.”
It’s true. I’m not particularly a prayerful person in the Matthew, Mark, Luke and
April 21, 2011
The next move, Lisa suggests, will help to quiet the monkey mind.
My monkey mind immediately scratches behind my ear, looking for possible escape routes. Orlando? Technology? McCarthy era? A power point show of flashing images Hanoi, Hong Kong, Bali, the garden. Make a note of Pickway, OH. The carpet in
April 21, 2011
When librarian Joyce Miller contacted us about dishing up some poetry at the middle school in Hanoi for April Fool’s Day she was not just foolin’ around. She not only scheduled assemblies and a seamless week of workshops for both of us, she managed to convince French, Spanish and (gasp) calculus classes to try
