Poets, et all

Today, the poet Naomi Shihab Nye visited my campus, and I had the pleasure of eating lunch with her at noon. I also attended the "master class" she presented at three o'clock. She also came to the faculty panel about creativity at one o'clock. So, today was Naomi Nye-riffic. But contrary to my usual cynicism/irony, I really enjoyed her company. Her poetry is very down-to-Earth, and it wasn't surprising to find that she, too, is down to Earth. She seemed genuinely happy to be here on this snowy college campus, which I can't imagine, since the other ninety percent of the people living here are all busy complaining about the snow and ice.



She was very cordial at lunch today, which I attended with three other student writers, all of whom are female. So, as I've gotten more or less used to, I was the sole representer of the less fair sex. We talked about several things over lunch, such as the weather, the beauty of nature (Ms. Nye had seen a moose earlier, and I told her how jealous I am that she's been in Utah two days and already has a moose sighting, while I've gone four years without one), and the relative nature of the way we see time (for instance, in the Western United States, a building that's two hundred years old is considered old!). She asked us all about what we're doing, and encouraged us to write about our lives, using our experiences and insights.

The creative panel was very interesting. After all, I call myself a creative writer, but what does it mean to be creative? Every story that can be told probably has been, in some form, so what is creativity? The panel seemed to decide it was originality and innovation: creating something new that has fresh meaning and worth.

Then it was off to the master class. What to do when it's a room full of creative writing-types being controlled by another creative writing type? Miss Nye is a middle-aged, very amiable woman, not much more than five feet tall if that, but she has a charmingly disarming personality. She talked about a number of things, from the importance of writing every day to the wonders of travel and getting to know different places. More than anything, when good writers talk, it's a pleasure to listen to them because of the way they clearly enjoy language. When they speak, it's almost an ode to words and communication. That's something I have trouble with; my words feel like they don't fit in my mouth.

I'm going to see her read her poetry at seven. That's a bit backwards, I think: the poet should read first, so I have her words in my head when I listen to her tell me where they come from. But this is the way it worked out.

There's a terrible blizzard. They actually cancelled evening classes. We'll have to see how that turns out!