SAL/ON

A Blog of Seattle Arts & Lectures

Category: Poetry Series

Paisley Rekdal, in a red satin suit, stands against a wall at Hugo House that is designed to look like the shadows cast by Emily Dickinson's bedroom window.

Paisley Rekdal on Writing the Wrong Thing

Writers, what is your deepest fear about your craft? On February 6, we hosted a reading with Seattle-born poet and current Utah Poet Laureate, Paisley Rekdal. During the Q&A with SAL’s Associat...

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Paisley Rekdal, wearing a red satin suit, reads from her book at a lectern, one hand gesturing. Her gaze is cast upwards.

Introductions: Paisley Rekdal

By Rebecca Hoogs, SAL Associate Director Born and raised in Seattle, Paisley Rekdal went to school at the University of Washington before continuing her studies at the University of Michigan and Unive...

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Bernini's sculpture, The Rape of Proserpina, stands against a black background.

Time Flown

This essay is part of a series in which Poetry Northwest partners with Seattle Arts & Lectures to present reflections on visiting writers from the SAL Poetry Series. At 7:30 p.m. on Thursday, ...

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Mary Ruefle gazes into the camera, head down, brows up, through her curly hair. Her hands are clasped in front of her, and the lapel of her navy blue blazer is decorated with a small pin.

Mary Ruefle: Impressions of a Sentence-Maker

By Bianca Glinskas As an emerging poet, I’ve been a bit clueless when it comes to considering how profoundly my writing process affects my work. I type in front of screens in noisy cafes. I am guilt...

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Mary Ruefle gazes into the camera, head down, brows up, through her curly hair. Her navy blue blazer is decorated with a small pin.

Introductions: Mary Ruefle

By Rebecca Hoogs, SAL Associate Director Twenty-five years ago, I jumped into a pool in Switzerland and when I got out of the pool, I went about my business, i.e. my life for a while—maybe a half ho...

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Lydia Ganz reads from a wood lectern, hair held back by a blue headband as she leans forward to look at her paper.

“Ode to Cinnamon,” by Lydia Ganz

Cinnamon O, cinnamon Soft but sharp quiet but demanding You are the tall red spruces old as time cutting the sky and stretching beyond You are clouds who knit together casting a blanket of gray swallo...

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Introductions: Richard Kenney

By Rebecca Hoogs, SAL Associate Director Twenty years ago this fall, I walked into the deep time of Richard Kenney’s classroom at the University of Washington. I was young and dumb—and by dumb I m...

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More of a River

This essay is part of a series in which Poetry Northwest partners with Seattle Arts & Lectures to present reflections on visiting writers from SAL’s Poetry Series. At 7:30 p.m. on Thursday...

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