Well, Epiphany Magazine doesn’t want the submission I sent for their chapbook contest. A bummer. I’m having a hard time placing it since it crosses genres and steps outside the boundaries of tense and structure. But they were very nice plus they spelled my name right so kudos to them. (And how can you not like a literary magazine named Epiphany, eh?)
But the flip side: Barking Sycamores accepted two poems and Postcard Poems and Prose Magazine accepted a flash fiction piece. So really, I have nothing to complain about.
We saw this laid-back moose on one of our runs. It didn’t even glance up as we ran past. I think it thought it was camouflaged in the brush. Doesn’t it have the most wonderful nose? It looks so soft and touchable (though trust me, I highly doubt that it’s touchable at all).
And belated Mother’s Day to all of you mothers out there, from someone who has never really liked Mother’s Day, though I love (love!) being a mother.
According to a recent NPR piece, Mother’s Day originated through the efforts of Anna Jarvis, back in the early 1900s, because she believed that a day of rest should be set aside for all mothers. The idea eventually caught on and the floral and card corporations jumped in and lobbied for an official holiday. After Mother’s Day gained popularity and became a corporate goldmine, Jarvis became so disgusted at the commercialization of the holiday that she tried to get it rescinded. And guess what happened? She ended up in a sanitarium. And, naturally, the floral and card companies footed the bills to keep her there (sucks big time, doesn’t it?).
Kind of brings a whole new flavor to Mother’s Day, eh?
And don’t miss this lovely essay, I Divorced My Mom, by Molly Campbell, about what life is like when you don’t have an ideal mother.
P.S. For some reason I can’t stop thinking of this Georgia O’Keeffe painting. It’s so vivid and purple and sensual and lush, a perfect way to begin the week.
Have a good one, everybody.