Brand Spaking New.

I have a website: kalexislong.com

I'm kind of excited about it. You should check it out.

It has a poem a week page - so you'll be able to see things I've been working on. Also, it will be the new home of my blog. So, really, check it out.

Love, love, love,
Kate

Just a Moment

Kayla, my friend and neighbor, knocked on the door sometime around ten. I had just rolled out of bed after being up late on the phone. I was certain maintenance was standing on my porch yielding chemicals, ready to spray for routine pest control.

"Just a moment." I shuffled into a pair of pajama pants and opened the door. Relieved to find Kayla on the other side, I invited her in for coffee and toast. She laughed at me for using old woman words and my morning voice.

Kayla brought me a newspaper article - copied double-sided onto printer paper.

"It's about music and it's interesting. I think you might like it." I'm reminded that sometime last month she left a torn out magazine ad under my windshield wiper that read: "music is whatever you make it." In black ink, a note was scribbled on the back.

This morning, she gave me an article. A beautiful, sad piece of journalism from the May 4, 2007 issue of The Washington Post. I encourage you to read it: Pearls Before Breakfast. Maybe it will make you wonder what beauty you allow yourself to miss.

(The online article is the full-length version of the piece I read this morning - a little longer, but just as good.)

porch-sitting on 23rd street

we can smell the alcohol
over the musty air
right through the humidity
and suddenly
we emerge from conversation
to remember the time.

you found the four poorest
kids in oklahoma
porch-sitting long after
establishments closed
and our coffee cups ran dry –
we manage three dollars
toward your train fare
or more likely
another flaskful
of that perfume.
we being to gather our things.

in gratitude
you perform magic tricks –
succeeding only
in making a box of cigarettes
disappear.
look how late it is . . .

Slow

It’s been raining a lot lately. Oklahoma seems so sleepy – so much less like a desert. So much less like a place I don’t belong. People move slower, sleepwalkers creeping through their days and driving like beginners. It feels like growing up – nothing moves as fast as you want it to. Only as fast as it will; as fast as it should. And it comforts me.

Pandora is keeping me company while I work on projects and prepare submissions.

Things you should check out:

World Literature Today - The May issue is on shelves. Find it, buy it, read it. Then subscribe.
Belle in Heels - My beautifully articulate cousin recently joined the blogging world.
ALARM - If I move to Chicago, I’m going to meet these people.

An Explanation

I’ve been distant lately because it feels appropriate. I do this when I’m reevaluating. I arrange things, move them, erase them. Compartmentalize, organize, redecorate. Try not to place too much emphasis on things that are gone; be excited about things that will happen. I shift. I try to acknowledge everything and then forget most of it.

My conclusion: change.

For starters, I’m changing blogs – I will post the link to my new one when I have it up and running. This journal has treated me well, but it’s time. It’s times for a lot of thing. I’m also working on a website per the advice of some professionals in the publishing world. And finally, this summer I am moving – as soon as July. I haven’t decided if I am going to Portland or Chicago. I lean toward one for a while, then the other. Unless a huge, completely unforeseen opportunity presents itself, it is time for me to leave. I’m nervous and excited about this. I feel strongly that it is the right decision. Oklahoma has been good to me and I want to leave before I’m bitter. I want to look back fondly on this part of my life.

It is important to know when to leave. It is also important to know when to stay. I’m actively practicing that first part; I’m working on understanding the second.

To forward motion,
Kate