A Schedule* and a New Homepage

I’ve been thinking about how most of us get about a hundred newsletters (or some version of a newsletter, like these posts, which you get direct from me if you’re subscribed by email.)

They’re wonderful! Newsletters especially; I love them. You get to focus on one thing at a time, and you don’t have to look at a dozen scrolling ads, like most websites spam your eyes and ears with these days.**

They can also be a bit hard to track. Who is sending me what now? In my experience, it’s a help when they arrive at least semi-regularly, and when you know what format or general subject matter to expect. So, in the interests of keeping this blog a useful and non-exhausting place to be, I propose to treat it, from this moment on, essentially like a newsletter I’m preparing for you.

To that end, I have a new homepage, which outlines what to expect from a subscription to PDXpersky.com, and about how often. If you get your updates via an RSS reader, you may need a new URL for that, because the home page doesn’t update anymore—the Posts page does.

And if you aren’t following my poems, projects, essays, and occasional audio ramblings, you are warmly invited. You can use the RSS link above, or sign up for email updates at the right (or the bottom, if you’re on mobile) of this page. And at least for now, I’m still on Twitter & Instagram.

*Ok, it’s still a very loosey-goosey kind of schedule. This has mostly to do with my non-clock relationship to time, and my desire not to overpromise.

**They have to do it, in order to afford to stay online. Nobody likes these ads, yet there’s nothing to be done within the present system. Commercialism is garbage, friends.

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A PenPal Project Update

Many thanks to the fine folks who have sent me letters so far at The PenPal Project. Not only is your stamp game amazing, you’re interesting and unique and thoughtful, and everything I hoped for from this project.

Sometimes I put stuff like this on Twitter, and a week later I get a letter (and maybe they’re even related), and I get this slow blossoming of a feeling I cannot entirely describe, but it companions the about-to-be-mentioned bruised blue:

The project runs for a year (at least), so if you or someone you know might be interested in slow and thoughtful conversation, supporting the USPS, and supporting your local (or not-so-local) poet, consider writing me a letter.

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Happy New Year(s)

The season of the new year is upon us. Beginning with Samhain, and trailing enticingly through Advent, the turn of the Gregorian calendar, Lunar New Year, etc, this is the time of year when I think (happily and often, I love this kind of thing) about who I want to become and what I want to invite into my life, and what I want to leave behind in the old year.

This is the third time I’ve written the word “slow” in this update, and that’s because I’m in love with slowing the heck down. (Which is, in turn, because I’m not very good at it. The things we want, but do not yet have, are famously seductive.) I love to imagine the new year as a whole season because that means I can take my time living among words like discernment and meditative and possibility.

Or maybe it’s because I am bad at New Years Resolutions (TM) and appreciate more than one chance to get them right. Either way, Happy New Year(s), friends. Winter is for sifting, and working in secret, and thinking, and dreaming. I wish you all the blessings of the season just beginning.