Personal Statement equals

quiet terror

Something incredible has happened — when I say "incredible," I mean "unbelievable." James Connatser, current editor of Soundings East and arguably my biggest fan, has somehow managed to make me the featured poet of their next issue. Why is this unbelievable? Because I am so new to being published that it seems far beyond my level as a poet.

I just don't feel ready to write and make public a personal statement describing themes in my work and my poetic philosophy. The idea makes me feel very vulnerable — it's a fine line between intelligence and pretension. It seems silly to be worried about vulnerability when I am currently writing a blog about poetry and being a poet. But the format of this blog or Drawn Curtains is fluid, changeable. I can make some crazy statement like, "The goal of poetry should be to move outside the self and into the universal," and then say in the comment section or in the next post, "Of course the universal is something that doesn't really exist." And yes, I can say both of those things in my personal statement (and I plan to), but when I'm done writing and I send it off, I really have to let it go. I can't add to or subtract from what I've said. I can't continue to work things out for myself; they have to be decided. There is no room for uncertainty.

The poems themselves have been written and rewritten; shaped by what I want them to say over a long period of time and multiple revisions. I think the youngest poem Soundings East is publishing is almost two years old — a toddler running around the living room, knees to the ears. I have less than a week to FINISH a statement.

I know I'm just being self-conscious. I know I should just be grateful to James for his faith in me (I really really am); I should just write the statement, find a picture (did I mention there will be a picture?), and send them both off with a smile. And so I will. Here I go. Right . . . now.