Eva Moe

Author: Eva

  • Art History

    Hello!
    Last week I reached my 50,000 word goal for the month of November! To anyone else who participated in National Novel Writing Month, congratulations! This year, I wrote 50k words of poetry. On Monday, I started reading through and revising.

    To be honest, most of it is garbage. But there’s a lot of stuff in there with potential. Such as:

    November 6
    Poem 9
    Here’s what I learned in Art History:
    A woman in a Renaissance painting has powdered white skin (no other color)
    and never farts
    or shits
    or vomits after too much wine.
    No one has to hold back her pompadour
    while she pukes up her servant-made supper into a golden chamber pot.
    She doesn’t do drugs or smoke.
    Her somber expression pouts at the painters.
    The world’s first selfies.

    Now, I don’t agree with the last line even though I wrote it. The argument can be made that the world’s first selfies were actually cave paintings and little sculptures done long before Renaissance painting was a thing. Anyway, I’ve got LOTS of editing to do.

    See you soon,
    Eva Moe

  • So I Leave

    Hello,

    This one’s possibly two years old now. Since I’m writing so many new poems a day for NaNoWriMo (and my book), I thought I should share a few of my older poems.

     

    What he said was good grammar
    good tone, good smile
    How much does an artichoke weigh
    How much Truth Do You Want

    How Hard do I Tap my Feet so he Hears I wanna be light
    as a dancer on a drum
    Do I sing or scream through my window
    & how sweet do I make the sound?
    The longer I stay the faster my forearms feel dumb

    From him I inherit a thousand
    tiny vases of jagged glass
    in my gums and stutter
    on the first word I think to say
    and find there is nothing to express

    -So I Leave

  • The Internet

  • November 21st, Poem 4

    Of the many poems I wrote yesterday for NaNoWriMo, this one was my favorite.

    I hit 30,000 words a few days ago. Hopefully on this long weekend I can catch up!

  • Tornado

    So moody. It looks like something a teenager would write on the inside cover of their wide ruled notebook.

  • bloated

  • What should I do with my life right now? (Part 1)

    Hello everyone,

    This weekend I went to the Big Water Film Festival in Ashland, Wisconsin, as the film I worked on made it into the festival. Long story short, I forgot all about my money-making job (which doesn’t pay me what I’m worth and doesn’t allow me to utilize my strongest skills) and fell completely head over heels back into my creative brain. I breezed through conversations, initiated debates, made people laugh and included every person in our group into all of it. I experienced what it truly means to be in my element. I was among my people: creatives with ideas.

    And now it’s Sunday night. I’m faced with the dread of returning to a job that kills my soul. For most of us, it’s a familiar feeling. Somehow by returning to work tomorrow, I feel that I’m letting myself down. What is my true potential? I should be questioning everything around me, making art in whatever medium I want. I should be playing.

    This isn’t an idea that generates much sympathy. After all, in Corporate America, a balance of work and play is the formula for happiness. This idea has poisoned American workers for generations.

    Work and play. How about work that feels like play? Play that is actually work? Something actually enjoyable that stimulates your mind and brings your inner strengths to the surface on a daily basis? That sounds like my type of job.

    This isn’t an argumentative essay about the realities of “work”. Rest assured, it’s about me. Maybe you will find something useful in my anxious, panicked rant.

    Current Equation
    Work + Play = Balanced life.

    My Equation
    Play + Time = Balanced life.

    Here’s the thing.
    I have so many ideas addressed to my attention
    coming from a place of panic.
    I don’t have to change the decade to feel I’m being bold.
    2017, you see me at my parent’s house
    forced to invent my own job.
    I should record poems and put them on bandcamp,
    quit the bosses and publish a book,
    get on stage with my violin -> give everyone some music
    whether they wanted it or not.
    Where did the idea that work is not enjoyable
    come from?

    To be continued.

  • NaNoWriMo Begins!

    I’m eager to begin this year’s NaNoWriMo! This year, I’m working on a new volume of Sort of Super as well as continuing my book of random stories from my life.

     

  • From the Notebook: Emails

  • Breakfast with Mom and Sister – October 15 2017

    This morning while having breakfast, my mom and sister asked about my poetry book.
    “What even is a poetry book?” My sister asked. So I pulled a bunch of books off the shelf in my bedroom and returned to the kitchen. I pulled Pablo Neruda, Buddy Wakefield, Shel Silverstein, Robert Louis Stevenson.
    Then I showed them Rupi Kaur’s book “Milk and Honey”.
    “This one is a New York Times bestseller,” I said.
    “Maybe that will be you!” Mom said.
    My mom honestly thinks that I’ll finally have money if I publish a book. Like all it will take is one publication, then I’ll be famous and the dough will roll right in. LOL MOM NO.