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Sunday, July 27, 2014

Yo ho for O-hi-o

photo by Paul Digby, July 2014
I had a wonderful time teaching at the Antioch workshops, and then promptly sailed off to Alliance, where I stayed for some days with painter Lynn Digby and composer (and more, as he does everything, I begin to think) Paul Digby. And I had a marvelous time there as well--lots of talk and frolic in their exceptionally lovely garden.

Paul recorded and filmed me reading bits of Glimmerglass, Thaliad, and A Death at the White Camellia Orphanage. He also made recordings of me reading poems from The Foliate Head, the some-day-to-be The Book of the Red King, and some other uncollected poems, including one that will be out in Sienna Latham's Hindsight in September, timed to match the appearance of Glimmerglass, now available as a pre-order. So now Paul is busy writing music, it seems...


  1. We have 110 recordings, Marly. Just over 100 unique ones!
    Music is in my head at present... first I will pull that mid-to-low range of your voice when recorded that can be tricky to capture.
    Next... I need to look into Wrexham!
    Then, music.....!
    110 recordings! A gift to me!
    Thank you for your patience and good cheer whilst recording all of these!

    1. Very amusing, you thanking me again, when it is I who should be thanking you (and Lynn.) Miss you both!

    2. I am so glad to hear that you three talented people finally met up face to face. I'm sure it made for lots of fun as well as exciting and engaging sessions of discussion and collaboration!

    3. Hi Ruth--

      I wish you could have been there too! It was wonderful... We went out to galleries as well. And ate and yacked endlessly. And did an amazing amount of recording.

  2. And, on another note, how was the circus in Cooperstown this past weekend? How does such a "small town" accommodate so many people?

    1. Oh, it's always madness on Hall of Fame days. But this was the sweetest bunch ever--a lot of Southerners and some midwesterners, and they were super polite. I was out digging around in my garden and transplanting yesterday, and oodles of them thanked me for putting up with them invading the village! That has never, ever happened. They also asked about the history of the house, etc. Very kind bunch of people, it seemed, notably so.


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.