My Morning Reading: Kate Zambreno on Kathy Acker
I think I've posted about Kate Zambreno before -- she wrote the wonderful book Heroines, in which she writes about modernist women (wives, girlfriends, colleagues, friends of modernist males) and her complex relationship to them (how she idolizes them, empathizes with them, rejects them, lives like them and as a reaction to them) -- and now she's resurrected her blog to post an excerpt from an essay on Kathy Acker. I'm not sure how long it will remain up, because quite often she becomes exasperated with herself and the world and shuts down her blog -- which is frustrating for fans of her blog, but a really interesting exercise in, or exploration of, voice and the silencing of one's voice, a kind of editing or self-censorship.
I'm writing this blog post rather guiltily, myself. I have so much to do. I should be using every waking moment that's not spent in service to my family in service to work. I'm really, really behind for the fourth week of the semester. But I can't sacrifice sleep like some of my colleagues. And I'm determined to avoid sacrificing time with my kids this semester/academic year. Yet those choices are putting me into one of those dizzying spirals where I can't tell if I'm coming or going. I've begun so many projects/assignments and finished none of them. My verse play is gathering dust again.
We have two days off at the end of the week for the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah. I'm hoping I can get some of my work done over that holiday, but holidays usually mean family time, which is lovely and good, but also serves to put me even further behind when it comes to work.
I'm having one of those exasperated when-the-hell-am-I-gonna-get-good-at-this? moments.
I have lovely friends, though. C.C. will tell me that it never really gets any less crazy, but to focus on the good parts: friends, teaching, adventures during vacation time. L.C. will tell me to stop being so hard on myself and then she'll give me an account of HER crazy schedule that makes me laugh. S.P. will laugh at me gently from across the pond and offer solutions for my ridiculous technical problems in online teaching. And A.P. patiently listens to my ranting and/or puts up with my surly grumpy ass when I'm in the weeds.
These things mean a lot, friends. Thank you. You make me feel slightly less crazy. Now . . . any chance one of you wants to actually do my committee work and/or grading for me?
Har har har.