I’ve been chronicling my project with my wife on this blog. I’m going to write a sonnet series about the creation of California, what really made it what it is. She’s a visual artist, so she’s going to do the fine art work for it.
Last week, I mentioned that I’m going to look at the two Scotsmen, Mulholland and Muir who were kind of reverse opposites of each other in the battle over water in the state. Mulholland wanted to create a garden of Eden through various dam projects and Muir thought it already was a garden of Eden and didn’t want it destroyed.
I posted this and we informed immediately by my friend Fergus that Mulholland was Irish.
Okay, well, that underscored the fact that I need to do some research. I knew that I did, but that brought it all home to me in no uncertain terms. So, if you’re serious about poetry, what do you do?
The first thing I did was cancel cable. Why had I been watching it anyway? Sure, I like the show The Americans, but mostly I was just watching a lot of sit-com reruns when I could be reading and watching documentaries. There was a fifteen minute period of mourning, but frankly, this is much much better.
Second, I went down to Gatsby Books in Long Beach and talked to my buddy Sean who owns the place. I like going there. It’s one of the only bookstores in the world I can go to and ask, “What should I read?” I’ve done that a few times, and he always gives me winners. Anyway, he grabbed a Mulholland book off the shelf, and I’m started.
Okay, so now is the time for me to transform myself into a monk and start to read. What could ever be better than that?