Pure Manaʻo

As I continue to reflect on a humanities conference that I just attended, I understand better why I got my two graduate degrees in education and not in English to match my BA. The problem that I have with literary scholarship is that sometimes we have to forgive the improbable, seemingly fantastical leaps in critique. As a poet, I would always be astounded when I would do a reading and someone waits around for me to tell me that they know how this character feels because (and then they give me their interpretation). Sometimes the connection is so bizarre that I am not sure where they are getting that connection from and I find myself going through my pieces again trying to find that reading that is invisible to me. However as someone who has been made to feel stupid, literally told "that's wrong, stupid" I also need to honor Rosenblatt's argument that each reading is a transaction between the reader and the text and this interaction is unique to the reader. To me...

An open letter to my LʻArts, I took a photo at the conference I was at this weekend just so you know which time and place I'm talking about. You folks were invited but no one could make it. That's not what I am writing about, but it's to give context. My mom, the original L'Art saw this on FB and said Leahi looked like a turtle popping its head out of the water. After 3 days and sitting through 33 papers/presentations, I think this is an apt metaphor for what I wanted to write about.  It's going to get convoluted because "plenty are the doubts that cloud my mind. . .merciless, merciless time is wasted on the young. . ." is blasting in my ears on loop as I'm writing this (Fly My Pretties - Mud and Stardust by A Girl Named Mo, String Theory) The honu (turtle) metaphor - this was a new conference for me but especially when I don't have to pay, I like to take advantage of professional development that at first does not seem to fit in ...