I donated in support of this campaign.
"Jill, Very proud of you! Can't wait to read what you write. Love ya, Vic"
"Because we need more poems J and J"
Hello, hello, friends & readers!
This March, I'm running a marathon— a poetry marathon, for Tupelo Press; and let's be honest: this is the only marathon you'll ever see me run, so please read along with me.
Tupelo Press provides the course, and for 30 days I'll be writing the distance, sharing poems about my tiny community in the Gold Country of Northern California; I'll be writing a fierce love song to my home.
So how does this relate to donations? Good question. Long answer: we've been talking a lot about this at my house lately, the quandary of commerce meeting art. I really like this riff on it— we can parse the public into three categories: the ones who see and understand, the ones who see when shown, and the ones who gosh dang it are just never gonna see for the life of them. The first two categories are the ones who conceptualize the intrinsic value of art. The last category? Not so much. But do you know what the people in that last category DO understand? Monetary value. And in placing monetary value on art, the art becomes in-the-real-world-priced-for-sale— suddenly that thing over there you don't get and didn't care about has a value we all understand, in dollars and cents, and that value imparts protection to it.
Short answer: if you can, please spare a dollar or two. Tupelo Press publishes beautiful books by voices we may not hear from otherwise. Poems from the 30/30 project have been published in nearly a hundred journals and over 40 chapbooks. They're the real deal.So let's get going— I'm ready to write, and ready to bring you treat if you can find a few dollars to throw in— cookies for dollars for poems: I think we can all agree there's a lot of value in that.