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CONTENTS
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Eve West Bessier of Yolo County and Heather Altfeld of Butte County share ideas at the Area Coordinator meeting held in Sacramento on March 20, 2011. |
| WHAT'S NEWS | ||||
CPITS in Sacramento
Three different events took place in Sacramento for CPITS poets on March 20-21. On Sunday morning, Area Coordinators from around the State met at the Sacramento Poetry Center to discuss funding streams from their areas and ways to ensure return residenciesled byCPITS Program Director, Terri Glass. Terri also encouraged both student and poet teacher poems be sent to her along with their release forms for the e-news on a monthly basis. These can be emailed to terri@cpits.org.
POL State Competition
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| IN THE SPOTLIGHT: EVA-POOLE GILSON | ||||
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Eva: When I was 12 or so, Eben R. Parry, the janitor of my elementary school used to let us hang onto the rope to clang the real bell in the bell tower, calling everyone to class.... We all loved him for that and for the enormous kindness in his small Celtic chest, so I wrote a eulogy for him after he passed away that the Kenosha News published. Through high school, university, and beyond, I wrote fiction, poetry, and essays; quite a few found their way to small journals and newspapers. I succeeded at one point in marketing an art/education column to a number of California newspapers. Early on I was easily discouraged by rejections from slick publications, and I eventually thumbed my nose at them, publishing my own first two books: LOVE LETTER FROM A POET TO THE HIGH SIERRA and LITTLE STAR SLEEPING. My most recent work, WHO'S LYING DOWN IN YOUR HEART? is a serious and experimental play, and I am determined to see that produced by a good company.... Terri: When did you first get into the CPITS program and how did you hear about it? Eva: CPITS found me! Ah, what a fine day that was! I had sent poems to a lit journal called ROOM in San Diego. I recall that at least one of the founders and/or editors was Gail Newman (also a CPITS poet, whom I met later, or course). As Gail, probably, sifted through submissions and came upon mine, it turned out that John Oliver Simon was peering, probably, over her shoulder. I believe John was Director of CPITS then; he noted my return address and wondered--he told me later--how a poet could be surviving in the rural boondocks of Inyo County; he knew the area from hiking there as a boy with his grandfather. Pretty soon he called me. I remembered HIM from sitting in a Berkeley outdoor cafe when he came by, hawking some of his own chapbooks--a year or two before! He came right up to little Lone Pine where I was living and talked me right in to the happiest work of my life! Terri: For several years you hosted CPITS poet teachers to come and teach a week for the Bishop schools. I came one year with Kathy Evans and Tom Centolella and we had a blast! How long did you do this and and how did you fund these residencies? Eva: The poets used to call it “The Eva.” The first year I taught for CPITS was 1979. I created “lessons” by intuition—that is, by the seat of my pants. I wanted to see how other poets taught poetry, so was born the 3-day workshops for Inyo & Mono counties, for 3rd- 12th graders. Usually I brought in 6 or 7 CPITS poets to lead intensive workshops, all capped by a reading on the third evening. This wild celebration went on for 18 years, usually hosted by Home Street Middle School in Bishop, partially funded by their regular school budget and matched when possible by CPITS, but it was usually necessary to raise more money locally. I scoured! GATE, Site Council, PTA, Rotary, Lions, private women’s clubs like Big Pine’s community “Golddiggers” as well as individual donors, professional and participants’ parents. Celebration refreshments often came from Erick Schat’s Bakery and other local grocers. Terri: The last few years you received family foundation money to host some residencies in Inyo schools. How did you find this source of funding? Eva: In a small town, a gregarious-hermit like me soon knows many, many folks. Of course I knew about Dave McCoy who founded the Mammoth Mountain ski area, and I knew that his family foundation gave generously to local endeavors. I’ve volunteered with other non-profits, and through one of them I learned of another family fund in southern Inyo; as it turned out, when I first moved to Lone Pine, I taught fulltime at the same school with matriarch of the family who later set up the foundation which has recently underwritten poetry for elementary students here. Terri: What is special about Inyo County that you would like to share with e-newsletter readers? Eva: Inyo County is the third largest county in California. Death Valley and Mt. Whitney are within its borders, yet it is sparsely populated with 18,000 people. The beautiful expanse encourages an expansive and creative heart, demanding joy in daily life. One knows one’s neighbors, and their children. All these benefits have enhanced my work as a teaching poet with California Poets in the Schools- great and important work in a magnificent landscape. return to top |
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KUDOS |
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To Perie Longo for her publication in Low Down and Coming On: A feast of delicious and dangerous poems about pigs, edited by James P. Lenfestey, Northfield, MN: Red Dragonfly Press, (c) 2010. And for her poem "Said" was published in the last issue of Rattle, Issue 34, Winter 2010 with a tribute to Mental Health Workers. |
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EVENTS: APRIL IS NATIONAL POETRY MONTH |
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These following workshops and readings in San Francisco are sponsored by the San Francisco Public Library (sfpl.org8). All programs are free. |
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POEMS OF THE MONTH |
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Give-Away Party I will give you the light and noise of spring. The heart of a gentle rabbit. I will give you the magic of space, the golden air. I will give you echoes of shooting stars, sparking the night sky I will give you… I will give you… the feeling of adrenaline, the sparkle in my eyes, the power of feelings to open the door of your heart. Sara Iisaka, Grade 5 Tam Valley School, Marin County Robin Alderson, Classroom Teacher Karen Benke, Poet-Teacher Flight of a Poem I am looking for a poem, woven in the morning spider’s silver web. I listen for a poem lost in the ocean’s rough tsunami tide. My poem fades behind morning’s light, and in every shadow left by night. My poem hides in the heart of twisted oak and gleams from a red tulip’s indigo eye. Sweet blue winds have taken my poem— I need to catch it soon soon before it dissolves on the wings of a golden bird, translates to other languages, scatters like feathers of hope on distant lands. by Karen Lewis, Poet-Teacher |
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