I have a stack of photos for posting from various trips, and some work from young native writers. I'll get to it sooner than later. I'm teaching the second of two eight-week classes, with wonderful students, and these eight weeks I am attempting a different approach to teaching native lit: an approach that embodies "Mvskokee-ness" rather than a phenomenological approach. It goes against the manner in which I've been taught in the university system. I am much more excited and energetic but it also means heavy energy to subvert the linear way of thinking that has planted itself. And more work than teaching by a rote system of theories and facts. And that's on top of my full-time writing, performing, music and intense family dramas.
Yesterday my sister I talked to my sister late. She's in Oklahoma taking care of our mother who had a successful knee replacement. Our mother is doing relatively well, however she believes like so many in this country that a pill will cure everything, so she goes to two or three doctors and gets various prescriptions because she believes more will make her even more well. We think that's the cause of her slurring yesterday morning, and her comment that took her back into time forty years ago:"Is Joy still ironing?"
The behavior is frightening, but we laughed and laughed when I told Margaret that it's terrifying to consider that somewhere in memory I am still ironing and will always be ironing. I was chained (not literally) to the ironing board and from the time I was 7 ironed everyonoe's clothes, including my mother's restaurant uniforms, my step-father's heavy khaki's. I even took in ironing to make money when I go older. Laundry was also stacked in piles, or should I say mountains, in my sister's and my room. I won't go near an ironing board now.
So more as I move along through stacks of papers, reading. I do manage to write some daily, and to get some music practice in. I have a new tune I'll put on Podcast soon.
Will the person calling themselves "Sedna" please send me more information. I can't rely on hearsay. More than one person fits the description.