Sentence 7, edited with a a special feature on American Indian prose poetry curated and introduced by Dean Rader, poet and professor at the University of San Francisco, is finally out. It’s a knock out issue. The largest contemporary collection of Native prose poems in existence. Included in this issue are poems by Sherman Alexie, Scott Andrews, Lois Beardslee, Esther Belin, Kimberly Blaeser, Chezia Thompson Cager, Allison Hedge Coke, Susan Deer Cloud, Heid E. Erdrich, Laura M. Furlan, Eric Gansworth, Diane Glancy, Janice Gould, Gordon Henry, Lara Mann, [Choctaw MFA graduate in poetry at the Illinois, 2009], Janet McAdams, Molly McGlennen, Deborah A. Miranda, Phillip Carrol Morgan, dg nanouk okpik, Sara Marie Ortiz, Carter Revard, Kimberly Roppolo, Jaune Quick-to-See Smith, Mark Turcotte, Ron Welburn, and Orlando White, and me. YAH! My new work is in the issue as well.
A couple of summers ago, I blogged about having a poetry fellowship to Soul Mountain, that incredible retreat in Connecticut Marilyn Nelson provides for poets. While there for two weeks, I wrote ten new poems. Revised and revised them. One of those ten, in fact my favorite, is in Sentence 7. Thank you again, Marilyn. It’s time that writers need, to slow the mind enough to engage what the body and spirit senses. That, of course, includes time and space travel.
To purchase a copy of Sentence or subscribe, click here.
Salonaires rocked the Ada Heritage Center, January 7. It may have been 17 degrees outside, but inside, the fireplace room was jumping with poets, performers, and audience members. Poet Sandra Soli read from her work in progress, a memoir, Ken Hada read from his new book of poems out next month from Mongrel Press in Norman, Oklahoma. Phil Morgan read from his new poems and even a sang and played the guitar. Jeanetta Mish read from her new book, and Chickasaw Nation storyteller Lori Robbins told a new story that had the audience smiling through tears. As for me, I read from my new short story, “Due Diligence,” released this month in The Kenyon Review, XXXII, Winter 2010, edited by Acoma Pueblo poet Simon Ortiz, with a forward by Janet McAdams. Both are to be highly commended for all their hard work. It’s beautifully illustrated and has artwork by Leslie Silko. To purchase a copy, email kenyonreview@kenyon.edu.
Special thanks also to all the Kenyon Review family who worked to make this possible.
In other new news, my son Joe Craig and his family, Sharon and son, Colton came over from Hartshorne and painted the Art House as my Xmas present. Pictured right is one the bathrooms. 
Homage to the 1950s, with white porcelain fixtures, turquoise walls, and black and white octagon flooring tiles. In the background is a bedroom painted deep purple.
Below is the library/kitchen/living room complete with a six-foot-long bar. It has wainscot bead board along the sides, topped with black tiles. I know, I know, you can’t tell much about it in these pictures, but it’s going to be just drop dead beautiful when we’re finished with it. And after all this time we’re down to just the finishing details.
The Art House is meant to be a place where artists come together during Salon Ada, and other summer events. We intend to post a list of prices for those who want to come to Indian Territory and stay for a month, a week, or even six weeks. The rooms will be completely furnished with books, desks in all the rooms, a washer dryer, and have WiFi capabilities. More new to come on our progress, soon.
Five things I’ve been doing during the holidays:
1) Resting, getting plenty of sleep, drinking lots of water, and hot teas, and watching the wind blow the leaves around in the yard, that is, until the snows came. It’s been very cold here in Oklahoma this past December. My only option has been to sit in front of a roaring fireplace with my blankie and a good book.
2) Not watching the news. Believe me when I say I’m glad I missed the whole “Tea Party thingy.” Plus, I missed the news of the Nigerian boy who tried to lite his underwear on fire — on an airplane. There’s some kind of weird irony in lighting one’s shorts, just after a meal of beans and rice, thinking you’re so powerful you can blow an airliner out of the sky. I was about a week behind in learning about the incident.
3) Reading. I’ve been at it. There are some great new books out right now, and manuscripts of books about to be published. Watch for X-Marks by Scott Lyons, Ojibwe. A great read.
4) Learning to be a Vegan in 2010. It’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Well, I have not given up fish and eggs, so technically, I’m no vegan. But I’ve made some great soups over the holidays. My favorite is the Pear/Acorn squash soup with adzuki beans. My friend Cindy Cleary also introduced me to this great cookbook, Veganomicon. If you love winter soups as I do, this is the one book to buy. I’m discovering that it is possible to move our bodies toward good health with the right foods.
5) Spending time with family and friends is the best medicine. I’ve seen my cousins, my children, my grandchildren and neighbors over the holidays. Those of us that write have been reading each other’s work. Or we’ve talked of future art projects, future garden projects, made some long-range travel plans, listened to jazz, blues, and even opera together. Below is a pix of my son Randy Craig, and his daughters, Chelsey, [standing next to me], and Alyssa, on the far right.
Tomorrow night, January 7, 7-8:30 p.m. some of the Salonaires from last summer, poets Ken Hada, Sandra Soli; songwriter and poet Phil Morgan; Chickasaw storyteller Lorie Robbins, and I will read from our latest work, or tell a story at the Ada Heritage Center, in Ada, Oklahoma. The public is invited. It’s free. If you are in the area come and hang out with us. Should be fun.
After a month-long hiatus, (did I mention that I generally protest Thanksgiving month) and all the falderal around the pilgrim’s holiday, I’m back in the blogosphere, set to make comments on high adventure in present-day Indian Territory; talk about the 2010 fashion trends in Kabul Afghanistan; and even muse on my life in an Amish paradise.
(The Amish paradise business will have to wait until later posts.)
But before I raise your collective blood pressures, talking about taboo subjects like short hair styles and sexy cleavages in the latest clothing fashions from Kabul, I thought I might mention an event that happened in Ada, Oklahoma during the November holiday.
Archaeologist Jim Wilson (above, right), writer Phil Morgan (standing far right), local historians and longtime residents, Zelda Daggs (standing far left), and Alberta Blackburn, Shawn Mayhue (kneeling) as well as friends like Jim Irwin, Sandy Mayhue all participated in a preliminary archaeological investigation at Daggs’ Prairie in Ada.
Zelda’s father, William Daggs, Choctaw, had taken his allotment land on the outskirts of what would become the town of Ada, Indian Territory. In the late teens and early 1920s William Daggs allowed some of the merchants in downtown Ada to dump their damaged dry goods in a ravine on his allotment land. On this preliminary investigation, Jim Wilson slowly, over an hour or so, opened up a 12-inch wide, 12 inch deep hole in the Daggs’ yard. Shawn Mayhue began sifting through the various layers of soil. The major find was an iron tool about 10 inches long. Zelda and Alberta said they hadn’t seen it before, but thought it might have been a garden tool. In December, it will be studied by students at the Stonewall High School in Oklahoma. The high school group will be returning to Daggs’ Prairie to investigate the area where the merchants dumped their goods and I’ll report on their findings.
Today, Zelda Daggs, the only remaining child of William Daggs and Mollie Daggs, still maintains her parents’ original farm house and allotment. She is a walking library of history about early Ada, and the people who once camped in their pastures – from the circus groups touring southeastern Oklahoma, to the KKK, and other western tribes that put up temporary tepees on her parent’s land. She also said she and her sisters met Tom Mix, cowboy actor of the early silent films, and “westerns.”
Zelda’s father, William Daggs, and his brother Lee Daggs, were the first men who used a portion of their allotment lands to create Ada’s first baseball team and park. I used part of that Ada history in my novel, Miko Kings. Pictured above, Sandy Mayhue and me. We are looking for other pieces of a tiny broken glass.
This past week American Indian Studies at the University of Illinois hosted Chicago poet Quraysh Lansana. Now, you may be wondering why the headline reads, “Oklahoma Poet.” It’s simple. Quraysh Lansana is an Okie from Enid, but like many of us, he left his birthplace to seek his artistic fortunes elsewhere. And did he ever!
Quraysh is the author of five books of poetry, and he is also the director of the Gwendolyn Brooks Center for Black Literature and Creative Writing at Chicago State University where he is also an associate professor. According to poet Renny Golden in the forward of Lansana’s latest poetry collection, bloodsoil (sooner red), 2009: “His voice, imagery, and spare lyricism are influenced by poets Lucille Clifton, Sterling Brown and Walt Whitman.”
Lansana’s other books include cockroach children: corner poems and street psalms (1995) and Southside Rain (2000) and They Shall Run (2004), a collection of poems based on the life of Harriet Tubman. He is the author of a children’s book, The Big World (1999), and co-editor of Dream of a Word: The Tia Chucha Press Poetry Anthology (2006) and Role Call: A Generational Anthology of Social and Political Black Literature and Art, published in 2002. On October 29, Quraysh gave a hot reading to an audience of around 30 at the IUB, a bookstore on the Illinois campus.
While in Urbana-Champaign, Quraysh also visited the Native American House and gave a short reading from a work-in-progress about Oklahoma. He is collaborating with two other Okies, uh-hum, poet and scholar Dean Rader, and me. Dean is one of those superstar Okies, too. He’s the author of four books. He left Weatherford, Oklahoma years ago to find fame and fortune in Texas, New York, Texas again, and now California where he is an associate professor in English at the University of San Francisco. I know, I know, we all left Oklahoma and wound up teaching in English departmentlands. Anyway, check out Dean’s blog, The Weekly Rader, it’s savvy and smart, and from time to time a little Okie-ness slips in to his posts. (I like.)
The three of us are working on a book that includes personal poems about growing up in Oklahoma, essays, and historical accounts of our state, (frankly a place that was never meant to be what it became.) As early as the late 1880s, statesmen and scoundrels alike were hoping to carve up the land every which way. It’s no wonder why we’re all a little . . . . . . you fill in the blank.
Stay tuned for more reports on our progress and tribulations as we write this dang book. (Here’s where you can mimic my Okie accent.)
Pictured here, left to right, are some of the people who attended Quraysh’s reading and talk at NAH last week. 
Kathy Perkins, (IL theater department and wonderwoman lighting expert), Louellyn White, (Mohawk). Lou and I ran into each other at a recent protest against, the Chief. Ask Lou about it. She’s a post-doc at AIS this year. Cheryl Cash and John Low are my friends. John (Pokagon Band Potawatomi Indian Nation) is a visiting assistant professor this year at AIS. John McKinn, (Maricopa) is the associate director of AIS. (I keep asking Mckinn for a raise.) Then, standing, Quraysh Lansana, and Geoff Summers, a creative writing major, fiction, at the University of Illinois.
We did take time for eating while Quraysh was in town. Pictured below are my colleagues, creative writers David Wright, and Audrey Petty at Kofusion in downtown Champaign, IL. (Quraysh is in the middle.) Goodness knows we’re all foodies!
PS: Stay tuned for my next report on the Washington summit President Obama is hosting on November 5, with leaders of American Indian tribes; over 550 natives are invited to attend. The first of its kind. (Well, not really, but watch for my report, anyway.)
Just returned from visiting the Aboriginal Studies Program at the University of Toronto. Boy Howdy do those First Nations’ folks know how to show their guests a good time! Upon arriving at Pearson International Airport, I was greeted by a longtime friend from home, Associate Professor Daniel Justice (Cherokee), and now a Salonnaire [See July 20, 22, posts, Salon Ada]. Daniel and I then high-tailed-it to UT’s Mississauga’s campus to visit the “Introduction to Indigenous North American Literature” class taught by Mareike Neuhaus. Her class had just finished reading Shell Shaker, and I was deeply honored by her students close reading of the text. I felt a stab of pride mixed with something like, well, I don’t quite know, longing, I guess. Longing for my friends/characters in Shell Shaker. It had been a quite a while since I’d thought about them. That’s what happens when you finish a book and begin thinking about drafting a new set of characters. New Plot. New everything. I have to consciously remind myself to stop thinking about the characters in the last book. It’s like moving on from an intense love affair that I knew was always destined to end. After a while, I begin to fall in love with new characters, new settings and the new love affair develops. Rarely do I ever think of using my old characters in a new novel. For me it would be like marrying the same person over and over again — and yet perhaps I could do it. That’s what visiting Mareike’s class in Toronto did for me. I realized as I was talking to the students that I had missed my old friends, the characters in Shell Shaker.
Anyway, Mareike’s students asked lots of insightful questions about Shakbatina, Auda, Redford McAlester, Divine Sarah, and the history of Choctaws. The credit for this goes to her teaching. That’s when I began to ask myself, what are Auda, Tema, Adair doing today? Just where are the Love sisters? Later that evening the three of us (pictured above) went out to dinner at an English pub for fish and chippies.
I also visited another English literature class taught by Kyle Wyatt at the UT Scarborough campus. His students were also full of great questions. They’d read either Miko Kings, Evidence of Red, or Shell Shaker. I’m afraid my head was swelling after his class. Later that evening, we went to a posh Indian restaurant. Foodies would love it! Great wines, too. It seems you can find every kind of cuisine in Toronto.
Then on Friday, I gave the Fall Distinguished Lecture for the Aboriginal Studies Program [bragging again, I know] explaining that Choctawans and other ancient indigenous people in the Lower Mississippi Valley invented the root game of baseball. The talk was held at the Bahen Centre on the UT campus and Daniel and I had fun doing “Q and A” as if we were on the Inside the Actors’ Studio program. By the way, I learned that I’m terrible at answering questions about myself. Another insight, from being in Toronto.
After the reading, playwright and actress Monique Mojica (Cuna/Rappahannock); PhD theater candidate Jill Carter (Ojibwe), Daniel Justice, and I went to Greek town in Toronto for some incredible edibles. If it isn’t obvious, I’m a Choctaw foodie. Pictured below are some friends that attended the reading, including beautiful Monique in the middle, and beautiful Jill, standing tall in the back with the rest of the beautiful women in the picture! 
Can’t wait to return to University of Toronto’s Aboriginal Studies Program. Next time I’m going to build in some research time at the Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library. What a treat it was to see the amazing stacks. Next time, next time.
In these last beautiful days of autumn, I came upon a conference of pumpkins, orange, pink,
yellow-striped, gray, and even a green snake [languishing on the bench, left] at the Jefferies’ Farms outside of Athens, Illinois. Two sisters have worked their farmlands all their lives. Beginning in April they harvest acres of asparagus. In summer, it’s plums and peaches, and in fall, they sell apples, red and green peppers, apple cider, pumpkins, and wonderful, wonderful squash. All varieties.
For a writer, fall is a time when we harvest our memories during twilight’s golden hours . . . whilst munching on a crisp Snow apple. [Sorry for the "whilst" - I'm watching Sense and Sensibility starring Emma Thompson. Under the influence of the Brits, "whilst," and "felicity," come tumbling out, though I try to stop, but for naught. ]
Indeed.
Uh-hum. My own fall produce is to draft a new chapter of a memoir I’m writing, and revise the draft of my ten-minute play. That’s what I am about these days. [Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.] The new chapter begins with meeting poet William S. Burroughs in 1983 at the Caravan of Dreams in Fort Worth, Texas. The Caravan of Dreams is a venue where Roxy Gordon and I gave several readings from our fiction and poetry, and we once gave a reading from Big PowWow, a play we co-authored. At the Caravan of Dreams I also met Johnny Dolphin, aka John Allen, author of the Me and the Biospheres: A Memoir by the Inventor of Biosphere 2, and other books. Allen worked there as playwright, and creative director. He is an Okie from Minco, Oklahoma. Small world, no? Whether spelled Minco, or Miko, the word means, “leader,” in Choctaw.
Muskogee Creek photographer, writer, and artist-extraordinaire, Durango Mendoza captured this “woman to woman” moment at Joy Harjo’s recent craft lecture at the University of Illinois. And for me, this photo says it all: we are here to nurture the hearts and minds of those around us, as women, teachers, mothers, and grandmothers. Pictured left, Angie Naquayouma, Ho-Chunk/Hopi, 
is a 2009 graduate of the University of Illinois. She is now part of the growing staff at the Native American House on the Illinois campus.
In her craft lecture, Joy talked about the necessity of young writers learning how to be true to their own voice. “Be yourself,” she told the audience of approximately sixty undergraduate students, MFA candidates, and Illinois faculty. Several of my creative writing students said they connected very strongly with what Harjo was saying. They say they often feel compelled to write for their communities, or represent their ethnicities/identities, rather than be true to the stories rolling around inside them. I couldn’t agree more with Joy’s central thesis. We write for ourselves, and through that longing to understand a particular thing, we create art.
For more chances to hear Joy Harjo while’s she at Illinois, and pick up a copy f her new book, For a Girl Becoming, please see the American Indian Studies website and click on the calendar of events.
Joy Harjo is American Indian Studies artist in residence for 2009-10. She will be on campus until October 16, 2009, and her presence here has been a gift to all of us.
I know that’s a line from the theme song of Rawhide, a TV show from the dark ages starring Clint Eastwood, but it’s been my motto since returning to the University of Illinois at the end of August. And rollin is what American Indian Studies (AIS) is doing. So much so that I hardly know where to begin. [And it’s my excuse for not posting the last few weeks.]
AIS just held our first Indigenous Sexualities Symposium on September 26, 2009. Participants began arriving from as far away as Aoteoroa, New Zealand, Toronto, Canada, Hawaii, Oklahoma, Michigan, and California to talk about indigenous sex. [No, I’m not kidding, and don’t you wish you had come, I mean attended the symposium.]
Un-hum. All weak puns aside, the academic papers and respondents were amazing. Janice Gould, Daniel Heath Justice, Leilani Basham, Noenoe Silva, David Delgado Shorter, Kehaulani Kauanui, David Cornsilk, Brendan Hokowhitu, Sharon Holland, Siobhan Somerville, and Jessica Yee were stellar participants in our first symposium. American Indian Studies regulars Robert Warrior, Jodi Byrd, John Low, and Keith Camacho, John McKinn (and me) worked the symposium in our various capacities as presenters, hosts, and chief cooks and bottle washers. I counted over 60 people in the audience. Pictured above are David Cornsilk, (Cherokee) and Daniel Justice (Cherokee), in the background are Jodi Byrd, (Chickasaw) Sharon Holland, and Keith Camacho (Chamorro).
More pixs from the dinner at my house. Left to right: Lisa Tatonelli, Janice Gould, Joy Harjo, Kehaulani Kauanui [rolling out the zoom], and Leilani Basham.
Muskogee Creek poet and musician Joy Harjo and guitarist Larry Mitchell kicked off the symposium with a concert at the Illinois Union on Friday night, September 25. Joy is our artist- in-residence this fall at AIS. She’s given craft talks, visited classes at Illinois, attended readings, and given a great performance with Mitchell.
Drum roll please: On October 3, we got the fantabulist news that Joy Harjo won a Nammy Award for Best Female Artist. Everyone please give a shout-out to Joy Harjo and buy her new CD, Winding Through the Milky Way. Available at Joyharjo.com.
Now that fall is just around the corner, I’m happy to report that the Indian Territory Art House is nearing completion. We brought the property next door to my grandmother’s house in July. My grandmother’s house (now ours) served as a model for the Day family in Miko Kings. (Yes, Jay you are right about that.) We gutted the interior and have put in new wiring, walls, roof, plumbing, etc. Art House will also be a Writer’s Retreat and can host up to two writers at a time. While it’s missing the stain glass windows, new trim on the exterior, and some funky colors that we’ll pattern after the Painted Lady’s in San Francisco, we hope to have it finished by December. Art House will host Salon Ada each June. Salonaires have come to Ada from as far away as Colorado, Canada, and Ohio.
Seated here are Jacki Rand and Jim Wilson, relaxing with green tea lattes, guitar, laptop, and wireless connection. The Writer’s Retreat will have all the amenities, including a backyard arbor with peach, pair, apple, fig and plum trees. Woo-woo.
