Happy Saturnalia and Imagination

Notes for a sketch of a holiday at the parents:

Knock on the wreath-adorned door. Door opens and there’s a blast of heat, the smell of pine needles, and the vocals of Eartha Kitt. My mother, an X-ray technologist who bears a striking resemblance to Audrey Hepburn, is dressed in solar-flare red. My father, a salesman who bears a striking resemblance to me, has already begun depleting the table of appetizers; the man takes his food and wine with a fetish-level of seriousness.

The dinner table looks like the spilled-over contents of the Horn of Plenty. My parents have never been wealthy, but our household has always embraced each holiday with fierce zeal. My personal favorite is New Year’s Eve, and we are already setting the tone with a meaningful group reflection on the twilight of 2009 as we raise our champagne toast.

Year of the Tiger. That’s what we’re moving into. The year of my birth animal, actually. (And I’m sure a gaggle of editors will note this zodiac animal while continuing their Circus Maximus against a certain professional golfer.)

Ironically enough, in Chinese tradition your birth animal is also associated with one of the Five Elements: Water, Air, Fire, Earth, and Wood. The elements cycle just like the animals do. So what am I, according to the precise machinations of these cosmic wheels?

A Wood Tiger.

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My poem “Night Hunt” has just been published in the latest issue of Illumen; my copy came by mail a few days ago. It’s about a restless sleeper who decides to enter the semi-mystical world of a foggy night… leaving behind the prison of alarm clocks, TVs, iPods, and other banal ingredients of a banal universe. Slipping into the shoes of Thoreau and Blake for a few hours.

On a bittersweet note, the popular and very worthy magazine Atomjack has closed its doors; yet another victim to the arena of fast-food attention spans and the media that encourages them. The Fates have snipped another digital web-strand into history.

Now reading: The Poetry of John Keats

Now watching: Every film by James Cameron, excluding Pirahna 2: The Spawning.

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