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Tag: poetry

Instagram: October 06, 2019 at 03:34PM


via Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/B3SeXB-Jmtn/ We’re in front of a discount bin, my face is all swollen and bloated because, well, POTS doesn’t play fair when I have fun sometimes, but I cherish this photo. Madisen Kuhn and I at her poetry reading from her newest book, Almost Home. It’s splendiferous. It made me tear up. Buy it. Write in the margins about your own feelings. Start writing your own journey.

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Instagram: October 06, 2019 at 03:00PM


via Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/B3SafJIpfNT/ Gave you your own rainbow, Madisen. You did a marvelous job. Take that, anxiety. Talk to you soon about when you’ll be on the podcast! ♥️♥️♥️🧁🧁🧁
#books #amreading #selfie #authors #authorreading #poetryreading #bookreading #almosthome #bookstagram #bookpodcast #bookpodcaster #bookpodcasts #beyourownheroine #trypod #podcast #podcasts #theremightbecupcakes #podernfamily #ladypodsquad #readersofinstagram #zebrapodcaster #spooniepodcaster #disabledpodcaster

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Instagram: October 06, 2019 at 12:53PM


via Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/B3SL4pMpIAN/ On my way to meet @madisenkuhn and listen to her read her luminous poetry. ♥️♥️♥️🧁🧁🧁
#books #amreading #selfie #bookstagram #bookpodcast #bookpodcaster #bookpodcasts #beyourownheroine #trypod #podcast #podcasts #theremightbecupcakes #podernfamily #ladypodsquad #readersofinstagram #homebound #chronicillness #chronicpain #EDS #hypermobility #fibromyalgia #POTS #spoonielife #spoonie #zebra #spooniestrong #zebrastrong #zebrapodcaster #spooniepodcaster #disabledpodcaster

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Mental illness lies to us about isolation

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Hi, my name is Carla, I’m 46, I’m a podcaster, I have 2 dogs…and I have chronic primary and secondary depression and anxiety. What I mean by this is that I have them as stand-alone diagnoses, then have them compounded as both symptoms of, and then also natural consequences of, my chronic illnesses of EDS, fibro, and POTS. Triple whammy. I also have some PTSD issues even now from the assault I described and unpacked in episode 34, “This Girl Just Had a Bad Date”. Depression and anxiety (and PTSD) are liars, and one of the most insidious lies is that you are alone in this pain, and that you are alone in this—inability to cope? Inability to bootstrap yourself? Inability to YOLO? So I made a list in my #commonplacebook, which goes with me everywhere, of successful, “happy” people who do or have struggled with mental illness, often multiple disorders, like me. A couple of them, like @ladygaga, are also chronically ill like I am. Now, next time depression or anxiety tries to tell me I am all alone or desperate, I have receipts. I hope this list helps someone else, too. Add me to the list, and add yourself to the list. As Rumi said, we’re all just walking one another home. I will put a picture of the full list on theremightbecupcakes.com. #depression #anxiety #mentalhealth #strength #bujo #bulletjournal #neveralone #horrorpodcast #truecrimepodcast #bookpodcast #literaturepodcast @braintrustfm #chronicillnesspodcast #chronicpainpodcast #spooniepodcast #spooniepodcaster #zebrapodcaster #zebrapodcast #braintrustnetwork #cursiveismagic #chronicpain #chronicillness #PTSD #beyourownheroine

A post shared by There Might Be Cupcakes (@theremightbecupcakes) on

full image of spread:

 

Quote I referred to in the Instagram description:

We are all just walking each other home.

Rumi

Recommended reading:

Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair by Anne Lamott

Prozac Diary by Lauren Slater

my Goodreads chronic illness bookshelf (to be read and read)

These books added to the podcast’s bookshelf on Goodreads | please feel free to add me as a friend on Goodreads

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All Podcast Episodes

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Episode 26: Pilgrim at Little Piney Creek

Little Piney Creek
Little Piney Creek, Amherst County, Virginia
photo by Carla

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard: Kindle, Audible (narrated by Tavia Gilbert), paperback formats

Some books entertain you, some books distract you, and some books, if you are very, very lucky and find them, captivate you, and take your breath away from the very first page. You recognize them–and it almost feels as if they recognize you.

–Carla Hufstedler, episode 26, Pilgrim at Little Piney Creek

The Little Piney River is a 7.6-mile-long tributary of the Piney River in Amherst County in the U.S. state of Virginia. Via the Piney and Tye rivers, it is part of the James River watershed. (Wikipedia)

The Piney River is known around here as the “Big Piney”. Naturally. And notice we are so out in the country that the map just says “2” for “District 2”.

Walden (free in ebook format), by Henry David Thoreau — I once spent the afternoon at Walden Pond, and that place truly has an aura about it. I highly recommend putting it on your bucket list. In the spirit of nature writing, here’s the facts:

  • Kettle hole formation lake, formed by glaciers retreating 10,000 to 12,000 years ago
  • Depth: 108 feet (33 m)
  • Surface area: 2,657,157 sq feet (246,858 m²)
  • Shore length: 1.70 miles (2.74 km)

Also recommended in the spirit of this book

The Art of the Personal Essay: An Anthology from the Classical Era to the Present by Philip Lopate — the personal essay is a window into the private human condition. My best English teachers gave me scores of essays to read, from antiquity to modern American history, and they taught me much about what it is to be human, and to communicate that humanity with emotional power.

my essays shelf:
Carla's book recommendations, liked quotes, book clubs, book trivia, book lists (essays shelf)

It is winter proper; the cold weather, such as it is, has come to stay. I bloom indoors in the winter like a forced forsythia; I come in to come out. At night I read and write, and things I have never understood become clear; I reap the harvest of the rest of the year’s planting…The mountains’ bones poke through, all shoulder and knob and shin. All that summer conceals, winter reveals.
—Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Little Piney River
Little Piney River, January 8, 2018, taken by Carla’s husband

It has always been a happy thought that the creek runs on all night now every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale.
—-Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Little Piney River
Little Piney River, January 8, 2018, taken by Carla’s husband

Putting you in the mood to put pen to paper? Good!

And you’re going to need a paper companion for your initial forage into your environment. I suggest these guided ones, which I plan upon playing with myself, and may discuss my adventures with in a future episode: The Pocket Scavenger and How to Be an Explorer of the World, both by Keri Smith.

All books, of course, added to the podcast’s bookshelf on Goodreads. Please do feel free to add me as a friend there should you like.

Also mentioned in the episode

 

And we the people are so vulnerable. Our bodies are shot with mortality. Our legs are fear and our arms are time. These chill humors seep through our capillaries, weighting each cell with an icy dab of nonbeing, and that dab grows and swelss and sucks the cell dry. That is why physical courage is so important–it fills, as it were, the holes–and why it is so invigorating. The least brave act, chance taken and passage won, makes you feel loud as a child.

–Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Perhaps it is all balanced as it should be, perhaps everything is happening exactly as it should. And, to reference the minor prophet Ferris Bueller, if you don’t open our eyes, life goes pretty fast, you’ll miss so very much. You can choose to see pain and horror or beauty and mystery in every process, every moment while still being bluntly honest about what’s happening.

–Carla Hufstedler, episode 26, Pilgrim at Little Piney Creek

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Episode 24: The Bell Tale Heart

 

Ranker: 15 Bizarre Facts About the Tragic Life of Edgar Allan Poe

the burial site of Edgar Allan Poe, 519 West Fayette Street, Baltimore, Maryland, USA: Westminster Hall and Burying Ground

E. A. Poe Society of Baltimore: Results of Tests on the Hair of Virginia and Edgar A. Poe: Arsenic, Lead, Mercury, Nickel, Uranium, & Vanadium

Saram Elmira Royster

Death of Edgar Allan Poe:

 

 

The Mystery of Edgar Allan Poe’s Death: 19 Theories on What Caused the Poet’s Demise

 

 

The Bells“, Edgar Allan Poe, courtesy of Bartleby.com

HEAR the sledges with the bells,
          Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
    How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
        In the icy air of night!          5
    While the stars, that oversprinkle
    All the heavens, seem to twinkle
        With a crystalline delight;
      Keeping time, time, time,
      In a sort of Runic rhyme,   10
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
    From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
          Bells, bells, bells—
  From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
    Hear the mellow wedding bells,   15
          Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
    Through the balmy air of night
    How they ring out their delight!
      From the molten-golden notes,   20
          And all in tune,
      What a liquid ditty floats
  To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
          On the moon!
      Oh, from out the sounding cells,   25
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
          How it swells!
          How it dwells
      On the Future! how it tells
      Of the rapture that impels   30
    To the swinging and the ringing
      Of the bells, bells, bells,
    Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
          Bells, bells, bells—
  To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!   35
    Hear the loud alarum bells,
          Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
    In the startled ear of night
    How they scream out their affright!   40
      Too much horrified to speak,
      They can only shriek, shriek,
          Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,   45
      Leaping higher, higher, higher,
      With a desperate desire,
    And a resolute endeavor
    Now—now to sit or never,
  By the side of the pale-faced moon.   50
      Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
      What a tale their terror tells
          Of Despair!
    How they clang, and clash, and roar!
    What a horror they outpour   55
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
      Yet the ear it fully knows,
          By the twanging
          And the clanging,
      How the danger ebbs and flows;   60
    Yet the ear distinctly tells,
          In the jangling
          And the wrangling,
    How the danger sinks and swells,—
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells,   65
          Of the bells,
    Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
          Bells, bells, bells—
  In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
    Hear the tolling of the bells,   70
          Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
    In the silence of the night
    How we shiver with affright
  At the melancholy menace of their tone!   75
    For every sound that floats
    From the rust within their throats
          Is a groan.
    And the people—ah, the people,
    They that dwell up in the steeple,   80
          All alone,
  And who tolling, tolling, tolling,
    In that muffled monotone,
  Feel a glory in so rolling
    On the human heart a stone—   85
They are neither man nor woman,
They are neither brute nor human,
      They are Ghouls:
  And their king it is who tolls;
  And he rolls, rolls, rolls,   90
        Rolls
    A pæan from the bells;
  And his merry bosom swells
    With the pæan of the bells,
  And he dances, and he yells:   95
  Keeping time, time, time,
  In a sort of Runic rhyme,
    To the pæan of the bells,
        Of the bells:
  Keeping time, time, time,  100
  In a sort of Runic rhyme,
  To the throbbing of the bells,
  Of the bells, bells, bells—
    To the sobbing of the bells;
  Keeping time, time, time,  105
    As he knells, knells, knells,
  In a happy Runic rhyme,
  To the rolling of the bells,
    Of the bells, bells, bells:
    To the tolling of the bells,  110
  Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
        Bells, bells, bells—
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

 

There Might Be Cupcakes’ Goodreads bookshelf

 

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Episode 21: Nine Days and Two Car Seats

This entry is part 4 of 4 in the series Against the Peace and Dignity of the Commonwealth

Susan Smith, Union, South Carolina

My sources for this episode

Further recommended reading

 

All books have been added to the podcast’s Goodreads bookshelf.

 

Susan’s extremely peculiar, calm, and seemingly cheerful confession note:

 

 

Findagrave: Alexander Tyler Smith (1993-1994)

Findagrave: Michael Daniel Smith (1991-1994)

 

Murderpedia: Susan Smith

 

Susan Smith: Child Killer full length documentary

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JLz37EAAow

American Justice episode

Tommy Pope. prosecutor, speaks out 20 years later

Steve Harvey:

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