Category: Running Log

march 11/RUNGETOUTICE

4.25 miles
minnehaha falls and back
35 degrees

Snow. A dusting last night, then a little more in the morning. An inch? Enough to make everything white. I was happy to be done with winter, but I don’t mind the snow. Since past snow has already melted and the ground has already warmed up, the snow didn’t stick around. By the time I went out for my run in the afternoon, almost everything was clear. The run didn’t feel easy, but I pushed through several difficult moments and kept going. Hooray for mental victories!

I listened to the dripping and gushing and the wheel whooshing as I ran south, 2 playlists — “Bunnies and Rabbits” and “the Wheelin’ Life” — as I ran back north.

10 Things

  1. sh sh sh — the shifting grit under my feet
  2. the wet pavement was shining and sparkling in the sun — so bright sometimes that I thought it was slick ice
  3. entering minnehaha park, the parking lot was empty
  4. exiting the park 10 or more minutes later, there was one car at the far end of the parking lot
  5. the creek was rushing
  6. the sidewalk on the bridge just above the falls was wet and clear — last week someone had chalked a long message on it, which I couldn’t read because of my bad vision
  7. on the walk just before I started, I noticed a small black bird skittering along the grass — it had a small circle of white feathers below its eye
  8. a runner in a bright red jacket stopped at the Rachel Dow Memorial Bench, a minute later they ran down a hill on the winchell trail
  9. only 1 or 2 small patches of ice, a few puddles
  10. I almost didn’t remember this one! — three people on the bridge over the falls, looking over the creek side. One, to the others, pointing down at the creek: look, there’s 75 cents! One of the others, joked (I hope): better go down there and get it!

Rabbit Recap

Slowly but surely, I’m getting to the end of my rabbit recap, but not today! See past rabbit recaps here: 9 march, 6 march, 5 march, and 4 march.

14 — 25 march 2026

Here’s a useful explanation of some reasons why I do monthly challenges about new topics, like rabbits (or wind or dirt, etc.):

And what’s the point of all of this? Following the rabbit down the rabbit hole is a wonderful distraction. It is also an excellent opportunity to learn. And to learn more about rabbits, which leads to caring about them as living things and as symbols. This caring might (is) enabling me to open up a closed part of myself (closed = strong dislike of rabbits). And it is helping me to think more broadly and specifically about the impacts of humans and human encroachment on environments and the consequences of that encroachment for humans and non-humans. Plus, all (or any) of it could inspire new poems.

A quick summary of some rabbits references and reveries: the killer bunny in Monty Python; Bunny Lebowski; Rabbit in Red matchbook from Halloween; Jimmy Stewart’s invisible bunny in Harvey; Max and Ruby; the PBS doc The Pill; Rabbit in Winnie-the-Pooh; the Cadbury Creme Egg Bunny; The Runaway Bunny; fix me hausenpffefer right away!

Rabbits in Diane Seuss:

excerpt from backyard song / Diane Seuss — I LOVE this whole poem. I’d like to use it as inspiration for a hole poem and a bunny poem!

Uncorked, I had a thought: I
want the want
I dreamed of wanting once, a
quarter cup of sneak-peek
at what prowls in the back, at
what sings in the
wet rag space behind the garage, back
where the rabbits nest

excerpt from Her first poem had a rabbit / Diane Seuss — I want to bring in the optical illusion of the bunny and duck + the idea of what seems mild but is really wild

She tended
toward rabbits back then.
Toward the theoretically mild

that are really
wild. Like ducks on a pond
that is really a moon

full of menacing weeds.

What form should my rabbit poems take? an inspiration — Seven American Centuries

New Yorker Experiment: A hole through the bottom of the known world

Today I worked on the template for my hole poem that erases the “Whisker Wars.” It has some of my blind spot, some big circles (from a iron pill cap), some medium sized-circles (lexipro cap), small (a quarter), and extra small (a penny). I want to create texture for the blind spots but leave the circles alone as pencil/gray.

a hole through the bottom of the known world

My choice of blind spots vs. circles, and the size of the circles, was mostly decided by what would fit where, but there might be some room to play around with some of it. I’ll think about it some more.

The words: nothing still / details drift like snow / cut off heads with pewter-colored faces float / a hole through the bottom of the known world / here it’s unprofitable to have faith in the visible — should it be what is visible?

added an hour later: I realized a further clarification on the idea of the hole and holes. The blind spot creates a hole in my vision, an absence that has created an uneasy fellowship with the world and made it unprofitable to have faith in the visible. But, there is also the small hole that remains in the otherwise dark blind spot that enables me to still read — it’s a small hole, and it’s getting smaller, but it’s still there. I’m noticing that my whisker wars poem offers many different sizes of holes depending on how many words I’m trying to fit in it. I need to have a poem that highlights that tiny hole holdout — ooo, holdout is a word in the whiskey wars article. Should I do a completely different poem using the same text?

Get out ICE

Each morning a local journalist, Sean Snow, offers updates on what’s happening in Minnesota, both what ICE and those in state and federal government that support ICE are doing, and how people and their communities are fighting back. I read them on Facebook, but he also posts them on Threads, Instagram, Tiktok, and YouTube. Today one of his examples

— sitting at the dining room table, drinking my coffee while I write this, I just heard a long goose fly by — honk honk —

was about “a real act of public memory” n St. Paul:

Testimony Builds The Record: Minnesota residents, advocates, and families testified Tuesday in St. Paul before the chair of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights about what they experienced during Operation Metro Surge. Star Tribune reported that people described racial discrimination, abusive detention conditions, treatment of protesters, and the deaths of two citizens, all in hopes of pushing the commission toward a formal investigation. This was not a final ruling or a courtroom win. But it was a real act of public memory and accountability on a day when it would have been easy for the country to start looking away.

Sean Snow on Facebook / 11 march 2026

march 10/GETOUTICE

Today I had a blood test to re-check my iron and my thyroid in the morning. No coffee or food until it was done at 11, so also no running. Just sitting and writing and witnessing the world outside my windows: walkers, one runner, some dogs, the little girl at the daycare next door named Mabel stopping a walker and forcing a conversation, elementary boys — so LOUD — running down the street.

New Yorker Experiment / Holes

A slight shift in my first hole poem. Instead of, another name for barely not blind is a hole in your vision that makes for an uneasy fellowship with the world, it is, another name for barely not blind is a hole in your vision that makes for an uneasy fellowship with the word. So, word not world. Since this poem is about how I read, word makes more sense to me. Part of me would like to keep both world and word, but most of me thinks I should keep it simple with word.

In my draft version, I’ve hastily shaded in the circles/my blind spot with pencil, so they are all gray blobs and dots. The only times I recall seeing gray blobs are: looking at a backlit face and staring at the wall for several seconds. When I look at text, like on this screen, I see a few words in the center and then . . . what? Difficult to put into words. Everything is buzzing, shifting, textured. I want to experiment with the blind spot blob in my poem by adding texture — I mentioned adding gauze or glitter on 8 march. RJP and I are planning to visit the Stashery at the Textile Center this week to see if I can find some cool materials.

While I let that simmer, I’ll return to the last page of experiment #5 (continued from 9 march):

words that stand out from Whisker Wars, page 3

  • face / faced
  • self-mastery
  • the Lord knows who
  • hold outs persist ed
  • who was as devoted as
  • you might think
  • emerged
  • embraced
  • writing
  • float /ed
  • only
  • unprofitable
  • propaganda
  • a sideshow staple / enfreakment
  • mishaps
  • cannot fully explains
  • died
  • few of us see
  • express rapture at seeing
  • poem reads
  • endures

Here’s what I have so far:

nothing still
details
drift like snow
cut off heads
with pewter-colored faces float

a hole through the bottom
of the known world.

here it is unprofitable
to have faith / to put faith / to believe
in the visible / what is visible

an uneasy fellowship with the world

As of now, I’ve decided to use the line uneasy fellowship with the word, but I also do have an uneasy fellowship with the world because I am barely not blind. Here’s an example of that uneasy fellowship from today’s visit to the clinic for a blood test:

I walk into the clinic with Scott and he points out the line for me to stand in as I wait to be checked in. It’s happened so fast that I have not had a chance to read the sign that tells me what this line is, I just know I’m supposed to stand in it. So I stand and wait with the person behind the counter directly in front of me, several feet away. There is another line with people in it, waiting, with a person behind the counter directly in front of them. I wait, looking vaguely in front of me at the person behind the counter and the person they are helping, trying not to stare or look as if I’m impatient (even though I am). To the side, I notice the person being helped at the other counter is done and hear the woman behind that counter tell the person in her line, wait. Then I hear her call out sharply, Scheduled! And then, Scheduled! I wonder what she means; it sounds strange. And then, Scheduled! I feel several quick, sharp pokes in my back. The person behind me is trying to get my attention. I realize that the woman behind the opposite counter is calling out to me. I am “Scheduled” because I have a scheduled appointment.1 Oh, I’m sorry! I approach the counter and she barks at me, name and date of birth! She softens a little after I answer promptly.

For a flash, I wanted to cry, but didn’t. It is such a small thing that doesn’t really matter. For a brief moment, I was that person, the irritating one in the line that wasn’t paying attention, holding everything up. Yet, it is a reminder of what I can’t do, or what I can barely do, or what I can only do with a lot of effort — and patience from those around me. It is a reminder that I am nearly (legally) blind.

I suppose these moments might matter less the more I experience them — both because I’ll get better at accounting for them and better at not being bothered by them. And I suppose I should experience them more. I just told FWA and RJP and they disagreed. FWA said “Choosing to be in those situations is like selling your soul!” Yes! Repeated this conversation to Scott and he said, but you do need to learn how to deal with these situations. I suppose. Maybe I can find some middle ground?

It helped to talk with FWA and RJP and have them not only validate but bolster my assessment of the situation as not my fault. A thought: did the woman say more than Scheduled!, but all i heard was that part? I don’t think so.

Get Out Ice

The ice at Lake Nokomis is fraying at the edges. Will the lake ice be completely gone by the end of the month?!

  1. Not to long after this happened I wondered: why didn’t she call out, person in the scheduled line or something with a bit more of an explanation. ↩︎

march 9/RUNGETOUTICE

4.5 miles
veterans home and back
50 degrees

With the sun and the bare ground it felt warmer than 50 degrees, so I wore shorts! I started with long-sleeves, but by 2 miles, I shed that skin and ran the rest of the way with bare arms too. Ah, spring! Not the easiest run. It might have been because I didn’t wait long enough after my second breakfast/early lunch.

1

One of the best things about the run was heading south and admiring the river. Waves on the surface reflecting the light. A shimmer scene. Dazzling. I haven’t seen sun on open water like this for many months.

2

Since I’m thinking about holes and spots, which also means circles and loops, I thought about a playlist I made a year ago (25 march 2025), and decided to listen to it. Much of it is about seasons and cycles, but as I ran I thought about the hole inside the wheel and falling through it — into another dimension? another way of being? a space not consumed by the expected (normal) life? Then I thought about my growing blind spot and how it has cracked open “normal” life — this cracking can be painful and difficult, but it has offered new possibilities and an entrance to another way of being.

3

After stopping to put in my playlist, as I ran down the hill and away from the park, by right foot felt strange. Was there a rock in my tread? I finally stopped and looked. Not a rock, a hole in my shoe where my middle toes strikes down. I guess that proves it: I’m not a heel or mid-foot but a toe striker! Unlike the hole in my vision, I don’t really see an upside to this hole in my shoe — well, I guess it means I have get to buy new shoes, and, if any are still available, in a bright color!

minutes later: Done! My new Brooks Ghost 17s are dark blue, turquoise, and green!

a close-up of the bottom of my running shoe with a white circle which is a hole that goes all the way through
a hole in my running shoe

I have never had a hole in the bottom of my running shoe. I’ve had holes on the side where my bunion/wide foot has pushed through, but never a hole on the bottom. I think it’s funny that this hole happened just as I’m thinking and writing about holes. I feel like I need to incorporate this hole into my project!

A Return to my Rabbit Recap

11 continued — 20 march 2026

sources of bunny inspiration: 1. rabbits who eat buckthorn bark may pee smurf blue; 2. identifying the dark forms in the backyard as rabbits; 3. origins of “bold as brass”; 4. optical illusion — duck or bunny; 5. a cup full of 3 rabbit breaths (poem); 6. jackrabbit trapped in a wildfire (poem); 7. the rock that is not a rabbit (poem); 8. little girls deciding who will have their bunny when they die (poem); 9. a rabbit offering themselves to quell a woman warrior’s hunger (book)

12 — 24 march 2026

Bunny as muse? nudge? pest? ghost?

What am I doing as I keep putting the two bunnies in my backyard into my poems? And why do I insistent on calling these wild and mature eastern cottonwood rabbits bunnies? I’m not sure these rabbits are indifferent to me, but I think they notice me in terms of whether or not I am a threat to their main activity: grazing in the grass.

A title for a poem? Crepuscular. Why don’t rabbits flee when I approach? Do they see me as non-threatening? Has human encroachment screwed up their sense of friend and foe? My mom, a pesky bunny, and a drive out the country. Peter Rabbit: the horror movie.

the rabbit hole: 

“Down the rabbit hole” is an English-language idiom or trope which refers to getting deep into something, or ending up somewhere strange. Lewis Carroll introduced the phrase as the title for chapter one of his 1865 novel Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, after which the term slowly entered the English vernacular. The term is usually used as a metaphor for distraction.[1] In the 21st century, the term has come to describe a person who gets lost in research or loses track of time while using the internet.wikipedia

Out-of-control curiosity. Distraction. Losing track of time. Getting lost in strange worlds. These are presented as bad things. Are they? Many of them are embraced within poetry. And they are great tools of refusal and resistance against late-capitalism and wannabe fascist governments — you’re not working for/perpetuating the system while you’re following the rabbit hole.

The rabbit hole online.

13 — 27 feb 2026

The rabbit hole. “Back to hole-less cottontails. A new metaphor is needed — not falling down and through to other worlds, but something about edges and shadows and the fringes — the periphery! Dwelling on the edges, in the corners, not traveling to new worlds, but noticing the other worlds that are already there, have always existed in the midst of my world.”

I want to think more about this shifting metaphor in my understanding and use of hole in my erasure poem (or poems?)

New Yorker Experiment #5

First, an update on Holes. There’s an empty space without text in the lower left corner. I’m thinking of putting a definition or a quote or a line there. Or, I could put my poem written out in a straightforward way in the space. Would that undercut of enhance the experience of reading the poem? The text could also be an explanation of my version of reading; peripheral — big picture / central — one word or small phrase at a time, often experienced in isolation.

I’ve started (just barely) working on experiment #5. I’m using an article from July 28, 2025 titled “The Whisker Wars.” All I’ve done so far is write down words that stood out to me on two out of the three pages. I want to try experimenting directly on the New Yorker pages so I have a decision to make: two of the pages are back to back, so I need to pick either the first or second page. I’ll read through both of them and see which one I like better.

Hmmm….there’s a cartoon on the second page with the caption, “That’s an area for creativity and unstructured play.” I might want to use a few of those words.

words/phrases the stand out, page 1:

  • portrait
  • a game of Now You See It, Now You Don’t
  • in the beginning, not a whisper
  • otherwise
  • drift like snow
  • wonder
  • notice
  • russet-and-gray
  • pewter-colored
  • abrupt shift
  • who left
  • entanglements
  • weirdness
  • yellow
  • bore a hole through the bottom (of my coffin)
  • still

page 2

  • traces
  • people saw it as separate (from the body)
  • replaced by a view
  • faith
  • framed
  • revealed
  • meanwhile
  • from
  • however
  • trends
  • norms
  • world all know / known
  • waves
  • an area for creativity and unstructured play
  • lies details
  • natural
  • rather
  • nothing
  • believe (rs)
  • teach you
  • visible
  • cut
  • choice

Get Out ICE

On 5 march 2026, NPR posted a story about how doctors and nurses in Minnesota have created an underground network of medical care for people who are too scared to leave their homes. “There are now about 150 doctors — a volunteer “rapid response” team that has made more than 135 home visits” (When ICE came, Minneapolis created underground health networks).

These members of the care network have helped women in labor, babies with the flu, “At the Faribault clinic where Carroll works, staff members deliver medicine, food and other necessities to patients. A staffer drives 12 middle and high school kids to and from school every day in a clinic van.”

For more on ICE’s impact on healthcare in Minnesota, listen to this podcast: How ICE’s presence is affecting health care in Minnesota

march 8/WALKGETOUTICE

walk 1: 60 minutes
minnehaha off leash dog park
45 degrees

The hiking with Delia and FWA at the dog park is back! I’ve missed our walks and chats and encounters with other dogs. This morning it was beautiful: sunny, not too cold, calm. There was some mud at the top of the hill, but not much in the flats. We heard woodpeckers knocking and calling. Felt squishy mud and sand that nearly sunk me — so soft and difficult to climb out of! Saw the tall bluff on the other side of the river and remembered moving along its rim during my longer runs to the confluence when I was training for the marathon. A spring goal: be trained up enough to run this loop again by May.

FWA and I talked about rules and norms and our difficulty in following them. Not because we like to break rules for the sake of breaking rules, but because they didn’t work for us and that we recognized otherways to be outside of them.

Often on these walks through the dog park, I hear people calling out the names of their dogs. Today I recall it happening only once: Rosie! Come here Rosie! I mentioned to FWA how I’ve encountered several dogs named Rosie around here. I wondered if they spell the name Rosie, or Rosy, or Rosey?

Two favorite dogs: One was a shiba inu1 that was running around its human in wide circles, with the human holding a long leash and remarking to someone else, I feel like I’m playing with the airplane on a string toy I had as a kid. The other dog was tall and lean and a beautiful gray. He (I heard his human say he) was graceful and gentle and leaped over Delia to avoid bumping into her. I was so impressed, that I mentioned to his human what a wonderful dog he was. The human was wearing BRIGHT blue running shoes. Nice!

walk 2: 60 minutes
neighborhood / winchell trail
58 degrees

A wonderful afternoon walk with Scott. We walked through the neighborhood and down to the Winchell Trail at the river. Open water, blue, with glowing white snow on the banks of the other side. A pileated woodpecker: drumming then laughing then calling out. Other walkers in tank tops and shorts. A steady stream of cars.

Scott and I stopped at a deluxe, Scott called it a “high-rise”, free library. It had a shelf of adult books and a shelf with kids books and dog treats. I gave Delia a treat, which was for dogs twice her size. As we left I said to Scott, I would like to find a way to make the kind of delight I feel encountering things like this possible for others. What sort of delightful thing could I put up in our yard?

There was a note on the door of the library explaining that the owner re-stocked it frequently and had an instagram account where she gave book reviews! It’s @beccasnotsolittlefreelibrary. I followed her, and thanked her in the comments for bringing joy to our neighborhood.

Holes (aka New Yorker experiment)

Should I try some new erasures, or continue to work on turning my “hole in your vision” into something? Maybe I’ll try both. I’d like to push at this idea of a hole in the vision, with the hole not being (just) empty or a void, but something — like a rabbit hole: an in-between space, a passageway, a liminal space, a threshold, but also a clearing (JJJJJerome Ellis), the Nothing around which something functions, the gorge.

a note about reading and writing: I like using an erasure to show how I read words.2 Taken as a whole, words are too fuzzy or unintelligible to read. I can only read them as individual words. And when looking at one word, I often don’t see of the others around it, just one word then then next word then then next. I used to be able to grasp full phrases and sentences at once — at least I think I did. This not seeing the surrounding words is a problem when I write. My Plague Notebooks are full of examples of words running into each other, or one word being written over another. Whenever this has happened, I try to make note of it by writing Vision Error and drawing an arrow to it.

messy black text in a journal, two words mashed together: I'm/metallics, then an arrow pointing to them and more words: Vision error
vision error from the Plague Notebook, vol. 15 spy balloons, winter class, snow / 13 april 2023

Throughout the day, I was adding blind spots and then, when those were too big for the space, I added smaller circles (made by tracing the bottle caps for my iron pills and my old lexipro pills). Here’s how it looks now:

Four sheets of text taped together. Several circles are sketched over the text. Each ciricle has a hole in the center, revealing a word or pharse of my hole poem. Some of the circles are the shape of my blind spot, some are just circles
holes / work in progress

I’m pleased with how it is looking. As of now, I’m imagining this version as a template for another, more polished version. I might replace some of the pencil shading with material — like gauze or netting. Maybe other holes will be filled in with glitter or sparkling something, feathers, twigs?

  1. FWA identified it as a shiba inu; I couldn’t see it well enough to do that — it was all blur and bark to me ↩︎
  2. It might be interesting to do some audio, too. I’d like to record myself reading something for the first time, to show how I struggle to read words. ↩︎

march 7/RUNGETOUTICE

2.5 miles
44th street parking lot and back
35 degrees

Ran n the afternoon. Colder today. I wore gloves and a headband to cover my ears. It felt harder, maybe I ran too soon after lunch?

It snowed last night. Not much — not even an inch, but enough to cover the grass and make everything glow white. By the time I went out for my run, the paths were clear.

omens of spring-to-come: someone was roller blading! Not roller skiing, but roller blading. And, a woman was running in shorts. It’s not unusual to see a man running in shorts during the winter, but it’s rare to see a woman. That usually doesn’t happen until it’s spring, or feels like spring, or is warm enough to be spring.

I was planning to finish my rabbit recap today, but then I started thinking about and experimenting with my holes poem. No time for the rabbits — well, except for several paragraphs below, when I realize that my naming of this poem, Holes (or hole?), is probably at least partly a reference to the rabbit hole!

New Yorker Experiment #4, continued

Today some part of me decided that we (the Saras) would offer a more detailed account of the process of thinking through my latest poem, so that’s what we’re doing.

I want to keep working on my fourth experiment. Yesterday afternoon, I printed out the New Yorker article, “A Screaming Skull,” and found my poem on its four pages. Then I taped the pages together and mapped the poem out. The theme: holes. I imagine it as part of a larger project about my blind spot. Maybe this project won’t be all erasure/found poems; I might try to connect it to some other work on the blind spot — work I’ve been doing for several years now, but haven’t quite figured out how to turn it into something. Yes! Experiment #3 — swap the dead-eyed liturgy of doomed vision with shadow (or shadowed?) acts, wild and improbable could connect with my study of JJJJJerome Ellis, the stutter, and his liturgy of the name! Very cool!

I took a picture of what I’ve done so far:

1
2

What to do next? The second image offers a possible approach: Applying my blind spot — the one I recently created by staring at a blank wall until it appeared, then tracing it — to each of the “found” words. I could sketch the blind spot directly on the page, around the word, OR I could place a cut-out version of the blind spot on top of the word. Maybe I’ll try a practice sketch. Another idea, which is probably definitely beyond my technical ability: create an animation of the process of reading this that starts with an overview of the poem, then zooms into the first word, encircled by the blind spot which appears as I read it. Then it moves to the next word/phrase, and the next, and the next until the poem is finished. I could also do it as a series of stills (instead of an animation). You could look at each one individually1, the image as a whole, and the series of images in a gallery.

I like this last idea! The focus on individual words — isolated from the other words and the meaning as a whole, which is how I read, because what’s left of my central vision is so small it can only fit a few words, and which is how I often (but not always) experience the world with my big blind spot — in isolation, and removed from others. A question: should I keep the larger poem as a square, stacked 2 x 2 pages? Or should I have it extend as 4 pages across? I can play around with it.

an hour or two later: Here’s something I tried with a paper cut-out of my blind spot as a template. I’m thinking I should ask Scott to make a sturdier, cardboard version of this template.

an image of words, 2 circles with a hole in the center, sketched in pencil, representing my blind spot
in progress / 1 PM / 7 march 2026

Something to think about: should I have the blind spots on the entire poem/map? I was going to write: no, because that’s not how I would see it; I would see a somewhat fuzzy version of the map of the poem. But this poem is not an accurate representation of how I see. I hardly ever see my blind spot as a gray blob. But the blind spot is there and it distorts how/what I see and I need to represent in some way that others can see too.

Another question: should I hand-sketch this poem, or figure out how to do it on the computer? I like the hand drawing — the material aspect of it + I can do it all myself — but drawing it by hand is messy and unreliable. I’m thinking that this series will be part of my vision art installation — along with my snellen charts and mood rings. It seems too messy if I don’t do it on a computer.

Also: how should the individual stills look? Should they be a close-up on that part of the poem, or just the word/phrase centered in an otherwise blank page? Should they include the blind ring? If I have more of the text, should it be too fuzzy/distorted to read, or should I have it surrounded by gray? Looking at the words on this screen, I see: 1 or 2, maybe 3 short words in focus, then other words too dim or fuzzy to read, and, after staring for a few seconds, a glowing dark ring around it. This ring is not solid or very dark, it’s almost gauzy, like a veil, or the feeling that there’s a ring there. Does that sound strange?

(rabbit) holes: Today I start a new volume of my Plague Notebook: vol. 28! I’m calling it, What about Epstein, Trump? As I was writing in it, describing my latest visual poem, Holes, a thought: Am I calling this holes (or hole?) partly because of my recent study of rabbit holes?! Maybe! And maybe I could bring rabbit holes into a poem about my blind spot!?

Get Out ICE

“Accountability in this case looks incredibly simple. Minnesota must investigate the violation of constitutional rights at the hands of Noem and her ICE agents and prosecute where appropriate. The best part about this process is that Trump can’t pardon state convictions.” Boom.
(from a Occupy Democracy post, citing a MSNOW interview with Tim Walz)

  1. While applying my blind spot to the phrase, “another word for,” I realized that that phrase was too big to fit inside the inner ring. So, that’s a new limit to how I can construct this, and other blind spot, poems: the phrases/lines must be able to fit within my blind spot. It wasn’t a big deal in this poem; I just took out the for from “another name for” and found it somewhere else in the article. ↩︎

march 6/RUNGETOUTICE

3.5 miles
locks and dam no. 1
48 degrees / drizzle

A few more warm days, then cold again. I didn’t mind the drizzle, everything was gray and soft and misty and wet. Dripping and whooshing and seeping. Of course, now that I’m home, the rain has stopped and the sun is almost out. I ran to the bottom of the locks and dam no. 1 hill and admired the ford bridge. It looked more like a painting than an actual bridge — although it sounded like a bridge, with trucks rumbling overhead!

I love the reflections in this picture I took, especially the upside down street lamps and railings.

an arched bridge stretching from one end of the frame to the other with a clear reflection on the river surface

If the sky were a little darker, the river a little lighter, you might not be able to tell which bridge is up, which is down — at least, I wouldn’t be able to tell!1

Smiled at several runners and walkers and bikers. Made note of all the empty benches and parking lots. There were not too many people out there. For the last bit of the run I was able to get deeper into the mist by running on the Winchell trail. Very haunted and other-worldly!

I listened to water for the first half of the run, and “Bunnies and Rabbits” playlist for the second. A new song popped up: Rabbit // Hole by Siddhartha Khosla. It’s part of teh music for a one-season series called Rabbit // Hole with Kiefer Sutherland. It’s a great song to run to. Near the beginning, the music breaks up for a few seconds then plays again then breaks up. I imagined a fast moving rabbit passing by an object when the music broke up, then being in the clear (when the music resumed), then passing my another object when the music broke up again.

Rabbit Recap, part 3

Can I finish this rabbit recap today? Nope. I got distracted with other stuff.

11 — 20 feb 2026

All late fall and winter, 2 or more bunnies have been hanging out under our crab apple tree — at night, in the afternoon, at sunrise and sunset. They’re very bold, these bunnies, not running off when I walk by. When this happens, I’ve started saying, these bunnies are as bold as brass! Why? Not sure. And, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea: I like bunnies or rabbits about as much as I like squirrels, which is not at all.

Get Out ICE

Yesterday afternoon, Scott came to my desk n the front room and said, Do you want to hear some good news? I mean, some actual good news? Kristi Noem was fired!

from Needle & Skein (the red hat people)

As of March 5th, we have raised an incredible $705,000 to help our immigrant communities here in MN. This is just us. Other yarn shops in Minnesota and around the country have also raised money and generously donated both here and locally. ICE is still here. Our fight is not over. Join us. ❤️

If you are a business who has raised money, please send us a message. We would love to try and get a full picture of what the amazing fiber community worldwide has accomplished.

Facebook post

Read the comments for more on how the fiber arts community is showing up!

New Yorker experiment #5

These experiments are slow-going. I run out of time to work on them. I struggle to see what I’m doing. I’m messy and haven’t figured out how to work with glossy magazine paper. So why am I continuing these experiments? I asked that to Scott and FWA in the kitchen the other day and then answered it myself: For some reason, I2 want to do these erasures, so I’ll keep doing them until I don’t want to or can’t (because it is too hard with my bad vision).

a flash of an idea: As I was writing that last paragraph, I was thinking about how visual poetry is increasingly inaccessible to me as my few remaining cone cells die (are the dying or just malfunctioning?) Then this popped into my head: yesterday’s erasure involved using marker to cover almost the entire text. When I had FWA and RJP read it, they both got marker on their hands — not in big streaks, but in tiny marks that almost looked like cuts or scratches. What if I made these erasures about touch too? My first thought was about doing the erasure in such a way that created a residue. Second thought: what if these erasures involved texture and touch — here, I’m reminded of the kids’ book Pat the Bunny and its different textures to touch: the soft bunny fur, the rough bunny . . . nose? I can’t remember what was the rough thing in the book. If you can touch these erasures and their textures, which would somehow speak to the words/ideas on the page, maybe you can hear them too? I’m thinking of scales, and thick layers of paper, maybe some holes where the paper has been ripped open, some extra rough sections, some smooth, like a thin film, crinkly, soft, sharp-ish. And — maybe in terms of the visual aspect, find ways to cover it that reflect or glow or shimmer or sparkle. I can see these textures in a way that I can’t see the typical flat, black expanse of an erasure. So things like glitter, little mirrors, metallic surfaces, ridges. What about covering it with things that offer colors only visible in the light — thinking of bird feathers here. So many ideas! Again, difficult to execute without it looking like a mess, but fun to try.

Before I had that last flash of inspiration, I was thinking about how I’ve decided (as of yesterday) that the overarching theme of these found poems is my vision and how I see. Then I thought, I should apply my blind spot to these pages. Create an amsler grid out of the text, and then place a cut-out of my blind spot (found while starting at a blank wall and then drawing what I see) on top of the words to find the poem.

Maybe some of these erasures could be all/only about texture, some all/only about my blind spots, and some both. And just now, another thought: What if these erasures were all about my blind spot and the idea of blind spots? Would this work: one of the erasures could be covered in spots or dots or holes in the paper?

So many fun ideas to try. I imagine that some of them will only ever be ideas that are good in theory but don’t work on the page.

Oh — I almost forgot, until I looked over at an open tab that reads, “tools to use for magazine erasure poems,” I started writing about this experiment because I wanted to mention my need for better materials. I love how writing in this log opens me up and helps me to see new things to try! Before writing about textures, the supplies I thought I needed were: sharpies, an exacto knife (can I see well enough to use this?) and possibly paint. Texture through thicker and thinner layers of paint is an interesting idea. Now I’m thinking I need scraps of fabric — next week, RJP and I should go to the fabric scrap store at the Textile Museum! — that are soft and rough and bumpy and gauzy. I need glitter and sparkles and little things that reflect and crinkle. Fun!

Here’s a new version of experiment #3. I decided to paste the text into a document so I could have an easier time drawing on the text. Is this a good solution? I’m not sure, but I do like how this version looks:

an erasure poem, spelling out: swap the dead-eyed liturgy of / doomed / vision / with / shadow / acts / wild / and / improbable
swap the dead-eyed liturgy

Bummer. I just realized that I erased the ed on doomed. It is supposed to read: of doomed vision (I guess doom vision could work?).

text:

swap the dead-eyed liturgy of
doom OR doomed3
vision
with
shadow
acts
wild
and
improbable

And now I’m redoing yesterday’s experiment:

text:

Another name for
barely

not
blind
is a hole in
your vision
that
makes
for
an
uneasy fellowship
with
the world.

  1. Both Scott and FWA could tell, but only after studying it for a minute. The giveaway: the waviness in the upside down version — in the streetlamps for FWA, the arch for Scott. I wouldn’t have been able to notice that because most lines/edges, if I can see them, look wavy! ↩︎
  2. Who/what is the “I” here? Not the fully conscious Sara-I. I am not entirely sure why I keep returning to these erasures — either in this particular experiment, or in previous experiments — when they are so difficult with my vision and I’m not very good at them. Is it shadow Sara, nudging me? ↩︎
  3. I prefer doomed vision; I think it works better. I really like this idea of challenging/getting rid of/swapping out a dead-eyed liturgy, where liturgy = “Liturgy is the customary public ritual of worship performed by a religious group. As a religious phenomenon, liturgy represents a communal response to and participation in the sacred through activities reflecting praise, thanksgiving, remembrance, supplication, or repentance” (wikipedia). ↩︎

march 5/RUNGETOUTICE

4.65 miles
veterans home and back
46 degrees

Still feeling like spring, another run with bare arms for the second half. Chirping birds, rushing falls, a knocking woodpecker. Kids on a field trip, walking on the river road trail. Only a few random clumps of snow remaining in the grass. I’m sure we will still get snow, either later this month, or in April, but it won’t stick around. Spring is coming!

I recited Alice Oswald’s “The Story of Falling” and Lisa Olstein’s “Dear One Absent This Long While.” I intended to think about my mom on her birthday, but I forgot to, or did I? I’m sure she was there when I recited — in my head — the last lines of Olstein’s poem: Your is the name the leaves chatter/at the edge of the unrabbited woods.

As I listened to the rushing falls, I recalled my discussion yesterday about the poster with the words, Believe Your Eyes. I thought more about why you should Believe Your Ears and Your Eyes, although less catchy, is more accurate. I recorded a thought into my phone:

5 march 2026

transcript: the sound of minnehaha falls and, occasionally, some wind. “I’m thinking about my poster and switching it from Believe Your Eyes, to Believe Your Ears and Your Eyes. And I’m thinking about, on their own, they’re both unreliable, but when they work together, and with the other senses, they offer a more accurate representation of what’s happening.”

Listened to the birds, my feet striking the grit on the path, someone say, I’m a classroom teacher near the overlook, the falls, sounding like a June rainstorm on the first half of my run. Listened to my “Bunnies and Rabbits” playlist on the second half. I started with “Rabbit Fur Coat,” and was struck by this verse:

She put a knife to her throat
“”Hand over that rabbit fur coat””
When my ma refused, the girl kicked dirt on her blouse
“”Stay away from my mansion house””

My mother really suffered for that
Spent her life in a gold plated body cast.

This last bit about the gold plated body cast — what a great way to describe someone who is obsessed with objects, like gold or fur coats, that bring status and luxury.

Happy Birthday Mom

If she hadn’t died in 2009, my mom would be celebrating her 84th birthday today. 17 years gone. Some memories of her have softened, lost their edges, others have been condensed into a flash or a few words. I was reminded of some of those words the other day when I heard Heather Cox Richardson say, oopsie poopsies. As I remember it, Mom was driving me and my best friend (JO) home. When we pulled into the garage, she called out, Front door service, Missy Doodles! I can’t remember our reaction in that moment — did JO and I exchange looks? did we laugh at her? — but I do remember that it became something we repeated to each other later for a laugh and as a way to mock my mom (mostly good-naturedly, I think).

Why does this dumb sentence stick, when others don’t? Maybe it’s partly because my mom often had a strange way of saying things — happy as a clam bake is another one that comes to mind; also, the way she pronounced absurd — abzurd — and milk — melk (I do that one too). There must be many more that I’m not remembering now; I should ask my sisters. These strange ways of speaking were part of her charm. Front door service, Missy Doodles fits with these others. I googled it just now, thinking it might be a famous catch-phrase from before my time, or that Missy Doodles might have been a character on some show from the 50s or 60s. Nope.

Returning to HCR’s oopsie poopsies, I’m thinking about how she uses it instead of swearing.1 Another connection to my mom surfaces: not swearing, or rarely swearing, or swearing in French or German. And now I’m thinking about her shit rock, which is now my shit rock. I created a digital story about it 10 or so years ago. I also posted about it on my TROUBLE blog. I need to find the video and a transcript of the story somewhere on a hard drive. I’ll post it when I find it.

the Rabbit Recap continues

Yesterday, working backwards, I made it through page 5, page 4, and half of page 3 of entries tagged, rabbit.

6 — 15 nov 2022

The optical illusion: the rabbit or the duck

I surmise that my general visual experience is something like your experience of optical illusions. Open any college psychology textbook to the chapter on perception and look at the optical illusions there. You stare at the image and see it change before your eyes. In one image, you many see first a vase and then two faces in profile. In another, you see first a rabbit then a duck. These images deceive you because they give your brain inadequate or contradictory information. In the first case, your brain tries to determine which part of the image represents the background. In the second case, your brain tries to to group the lines of hte sketch together into a meaningful picture. In both cases there are two equally possible solutions to the visual riddle, so your brain switches from one to the other, and you have the uncanny sensation of “seeing” the image change. When there’s not much to go — no design on the vase, no features on the faces, no feathers, no fur — the brain makes an educated guess. 

When I stare at an object I can almost feel my brain making such guesses.

Sight Unseen / Georgina Kleege

7 — 27 sept 2022

Those who have it to give are
like cardinals in the snow. So easy
and beautifully lit. Some
are rabbits. Hard to see
except for those who would prey upon them:
all that softness and quaking and blood.
(I’ve Been Thinking about Love Again/ Vievee Francis)

rabbits — visible only to those who prey upon them — all that softness and quaking and blood.

8 — 1 dec 2021

You only spot the rabbit’s ears and tail:

when it moves, you locate it against speckled gravel,
but when it stops, it blends in again;
(First Snow / Arthur Sze)

So, does a bunny have two distinctive aspects to their form: ears and tail? Ears if it’s only the head, ears and tail if it’s the entire silhouette. Most things blend into the backyard if they’re still for me. I only see them by their movement and maybe the flash of a tail streaking away.

9 — 25 dec 2025

A child’s plush stuffed rabbit. 
(Ode to Gray / Dorianne Laux)

Why are stuffed animal toy bunnies usually gray when real rabbits are more often brown?

10 — 15 may 2025

“It suggests the fatal indecision of a rabbit caught in a hunter’s flashlight. . . .” Rabbits as prey, always needing a way to be escape, when cornered, they shut down. Survival strategy: run until you can’t then go stiff, play dead. The idea of always looking for an exit resonates for me. I would much rather avoid a bad/dangerous/uncomfortable situation than confront it. Wherever I go, I always look for the exits, or the entrances into other worlds.

And now I’m wondering about rabbits playing dead and how that works. According to a few different sites, it’s called tonic immobility or trancing and it is”

a behavioural response to a perceived threat, characterised by muscular rigidity, profound motor inhibition, and suppressed vocal behaviour. This behaviour occurs when freezing in response to a predator approach, fight, or flight are no longer perceived as options (Gallup 1974, Gallup 1977).
McBride et al. (2006) observed that rabbits held in a tonic immobility position had elevated respiratory rates, heart rates, and plasma corticosterone concentration. Additionally, they expressed fear behaviours such as widened eyes and flattened ears, and demonstrated more hiding behaviours and fewer grooming behaviours post-trancing.

Trancing / Tonic Immobility
  1. In yesterday’s Politics Chat, talking about her reaction to the news that Trump was bombing Iran, she said, “I said all the swear words you never think I say.” ↩︎

Get Out ICE

From Recovery Bike Shop in Northeast Minneapolis:

This is what community looks like. This is what “bustling” looks like. This is looking out for our neighbors. This is taking care of our own. This is supporting our city.

We feel safer when other people are around. We are those people. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. And when we make our street a place that’s comfortable for walking, more people will feel comfortable walking. It’s a virtuous cycle. And it’s something we can do.

So come walk with us every Thursday evening at 5:30. Meet at Recovery Bike Shop. (And next week we’ll be walking in the sun!)

Note: any time you are out walking, you are making your community safer.

Recovery Bike Shop

Any time you are out walking, you are making your community safer. I love this idea!

New Yorker Experiment #4

But before I move onto #4, I added some numbers to #3, so it was easier to follow the path of the poem:

text, moving from bottom right to top right to bottom middle to top middle to mid left: 1. swap the dead-eyed liturgy of 2. doomed 3. vision 4. with 5. shadow

Experiment #4: A Screaming Skull / New Yorker 18 august 2025

text:

You may
feel
like a shadow.

Another name for
blind
is
a hole in the
vision

You may feel like a shadow.

I tried photocopying the pages from the New Yorker, but the quality is terrible. Also, I ran out of time. I like the idea of another name for blind is . . . but I could find the right words to fill that in. I’ll work on this one more tomorrow. I think that my theme for these is my vision.

march 4/WALKGETOUTICE

45 minutes
neighborhood with Scott and Delia
48 degrees

No sun today so it felt cooler. Mud and puddles mixed with bare grass. Noticed some bright green moss at the base of a tree. It was nice to take a walk with Scott; we haven’t done an afternoon walk like this in months.

a Rabbit recap*

*which is a summary, not a redux (revival). Rabbit Redux is the second book in John Updike’s series about Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom The first book is Rabbit Run, which I just checked out of the library.

This morning I reviewing all of my entries tagged, “rabbit” and seeing what I can find.

1 — 2 june 2019

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean
(The Mending Wall/ Robert Frost)

What a wonderful first line! The rabbits and the gaps — I wrote about this a few days ago in my rabbit eyes section. I am less interested in going down rabbit holes and more in exploring rabbit peripheries, in the shadows, on the edges, in the unnoticed corners. For me, this isn’t about hiding-as- prey, but about dwelling on the edges, near the exits and the entrances to other places.

2 — 20 aug 2020

Listen to the black capped chickadee’s 2 note song. 
Can you hear him posing a question to the gorge?
Can you hear the honking geese overhead?
Can you hear your lungs grasping for air
and the green leaves thickening as they hold us?
Can you hear the chainsaw start, the tight weave
of the savanna’s oak unraveling?
It’s August, thick, crowded. Listen 
to the path, cluttered with acorns. Listen
to the sewer stink near the ravine, the sex-crazed
gnats swarming the hill. Can you hear 
the virus spreading through the neighborhood?
Can you make a noise like a panicked rabbit? There are
sounds your tweet lacks names for.
(Homage poem to Helen Mort / Sara Lynne Puotinen)

Rereading this poem from that first pandemic summer, another word popped into my head: cornered, as in Can you make a noise like a cornered rabbit? Which is better? Not sure. I like this poem; maybe I should do something more with it? Maybe that something should involve hybrid writing about that summer? And maybe I should return to Mary Oliver’s Long Life for inspiration?

3 — 24 april 2020

Lisa Olstein’s unrabbited woods in “Dear One Absent This Long While.” Yours is the name the leaves chatter/at the edge of the rabbited woods. So good! I memorized this poem five years ago; I need to refresh my memory. Just did!

4 — 24 feb 2020

A cup holds
sugar, flour, three large rabbit breaths of air
(My Weather / Jane Hirshfield)

I love imagining how much air is 3 large rabbit-breaths worth. How big is this rabbit? And, in general, how big are rabbit breaths (from the 2020 entry)? Yes! A rabbit’s breath! I should look it up. Googled “rabbit breathing” and this listing of a rabbit’s vital signs1 came up first:

  • A rabbit’s body temperature should ideally be between 101.5°F and 104.2°F.
  • The normal respiratory rate for rabbits ranges from 30-60 breaths per minute.2
  • A healthy rabbit’s heart rate averages 205 and has a resting range from 180-350 beats per minute.

While sifting through links, including watching a brief video on how bunnies apologize to each other — they touch heads, and if the other bunny doesn’t accept the apology, they run away,3 I read a line about how rabbits are very smart mammals and then this: “The rabbit is commonly used as a laboratory animal for inhalation toxicology tests” (source). I wondered, do rabbits feel pain? “Rabbits have the same neurophysiological mechanisms as humans to produce pain and therefore have the same capacity to feel pain as humans” (source). How awful!

A few more random breathing facts: rabbits breathe through their noses; respiratory issues are a main cause of death; if a rabbit is healthy, their breath should not stink.

I didn’t have any luck when I googled, ” how big is a bunny breath,” but since they breathe a lot per minute, I imagine it’s fairly small. In the middle of writing this sentence I looked up “rabbit lung capacity.” One of the, People also ask, was, Are rabbit lungs good for dogs? The answer, “High-value: Rabbit Lung is considered a super food due to its nutritional composition,” comes from a site selling rabbit lung treats.

All of these results are reminding me of a line from yesterday’s research about how rabbits are unique in their position as both beloved pet and food source.

5 — 21 may 2023

This
is a poem in which no chickens will die. A rabbit
will bound across the road and the car will slow
in time. The fox will discover the trampoline behind
the house next door and with it the wonder of flight.
Everyone I love will live and call me after supper
to say goodnight.
(What I Am Telling You, Jessica, Is That Those Chickens Are Fine/ K.T. Landon)

I discovered this poem from a poetry person on twitter. It was part of their running list of “Not Today, Satan” poems. Have I ever noticed a rabbit road kill? I must have, but I don’t remember it. Near me, it’s mostly squirrel or raccoon roadkill. Anyway, I love this poem so much that I might need to memorize it. And, like I wrote in this 2023 entry, I might need to create my own “Not today, Satan” list!

6 — 15 april 2023

these are the
going closures that organize mind, allowing

and limiting, my mind’s ways: the rabbit’s
leaps and halts, listenings, are prosody of

a poem floating around the mind’s brush
(garbage / A.R. Ammons

This! For today’s entry, I only posted the rabbit part, but the rest of the excerpt I posted on april 15 is wonderful too. All about motion and our interactions with the land/our surrounding and how they shapes our motions. The halts and leaps and listenings of a rabbit as it responds to its surroundings — the terrain, predators, the weather. These are the rhythms and sounds of a poem (prosody) — not a poem on the page, but a poem in the flesh, a poem that is a living and breathing and moving creature being made by and making the world. So good! I say, I am a poem. A rabbit is a poem. Any and all of us who move through the world, responding to its winds and rivers and storms, is a poem!

  1. In a footnote, there’s a link to a pdf comparing vital signs of several different animals ( ↩︎
  2. The average human’s breathing rate (whatever average means here) is 12 – 25 breaths per minute. I’m not going to try counting mine because that would stress me out too much. I don’t want to think about breathing; I just want to keep doing it! ↩︎
  3. From another more reliable source (reliable = trained expert, cites sources), I discovered that this head touching idea is from the 2018 movie, Peter Rabbit. According to the Bunny Lady, rabbits might groom each other after a disagreement. But this begs the question, why do bunnies disagree? What does a bunny argument look like? ↩︎

Get Out ICE

Protest art around the cities:

The banners, flags and posters can be seen in storefronts and porch windows, on telephone poles and electrical boxes, in neighborhoods across the metro area. They are part of an explosion of art made in response to ICE’s presence that has included protest songs, comics and zines and coloring books, snow and ice sculptures, stickers and buttons and whistles 3D-printed in every color of the rainbow.

Winning Hearts and Minds

Through this article, I found out about Heart Your Art and their ICE OUT posters and this event tonight at the Witch’s Hat:

This Wednesday, The ICE OUT Protest Posters take over the Witch’s Hat Water Tower for a one night outdoor projection.
.
Large scale. Public. After dark.

Instagram post

One of the posters from Heart Your Art struck a chord with me. The poster says, Believe Your Eyes, and it features the text in big block letters in the top half with two open eyes below it, and then a quote from George Orwell in smaller text at the bottom: “The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and your ears. It was their final, most essential, command.”

In the description of the poster, the artist writes:

It is important now, more than ever, to believe your eyes. You know what happened. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. The narrative is trying to sway you — to make you question yourself. You know the truth!

I deeply appreciate all of these posters and the artists who are designing them. I also agree with the call to resist the double-speak of the Trump administration and to never stop challenging the lies they present as truth.

And, I struggle with the privileging of sight and eyes as (the most) pure and reliable truth tellers. Eyes are not always reliable, and not just for people like me with low vision. As I’ve mentioned before on this log, eyes are not just cameras sending pictures to the brain. There is filtering and guessing and selective seeing — some things are seen, some ignored, some the brain filters out.

You might argue that this is not the point here and I would agree and disagree. Yes, there is a bigger message here about resisting manipulation and calling out fascist propaganda and trusting your own experiences of events. And yes, the inaccurate promotion of seeing/eyes as the way to access the truth, is easily manipulated by those in power. In the era of AI and the altering of images in such convincing ways that even my husband — whose attention to detail and nose for sniffing fakery out is very impressive — has been fooled, relying on eyes is not just wrong, it’s dangerous.

So, what would I like the poster to say instead? I’ll have to think about that; maybe I’ll try to collaborate with Scott on my own version? A preliminary response: Believe Your Eyes and Your Ears — which is what Orwell’s quote does; it’s not just looking/seeing but hearing and listening. I’m not satisfied with that as the solution, but I’ll leave it for now. I’ve already written abouteyes and witnessing on this log in different contexts, and I’m sure I’ll return to it again and again.

New Yorker experiment #3

Today’s experiment comes from a book review in the 25 august 2025 issue titled “Me, Myself, and I.”

text:

1
point to
sentences
sliced in half
askew
wile
with strangeness.
Stutter
just enough to let in the surreal.

Occupy who knows where
stay
vague improbable

2
swap the dead-eyed liturgy of
doomed
vision
with
shadow

experiment #3 / from Me, Myself, and I

thoughts: Again, find markers that work before I start using them. Also, the second poem needs arrows but I didn’t know how to do that with the blackout. And, I wanted to add another word to shadow: reinvention, but I accidentally colored over it. Oops.

march 3/RUNGETOUTICE

5.2 miles
bottom of franklin hill
44 degrees

Another SPRING day! It felt so warm that halfway through the run, I took off my pull-over and ran with bare arms. No gloves, nothing covering my ears. Even with less layers I was warm. The walking path was clear enough that I was able to run past the Welcoming Oaks and the tunnel of trees. There were a few puddles and chunks and sheets of ice and for one stretch near the lowest point, snow covered almost the entire path. A few times my foot slipped a little but never enough to make me worry I’d fall.

I felt good and my legs felt strong. I was able to run up 3/4 of the franklin hill before I stopped for a walk break. The only part of me that hurt was one of my toes on my right foot. I was wearing different shoes than I normally do — a Saucony Ride instead of a Brooks Ghost — and something about this version of the has never worked for me. I’ve had these shoes for more than a year — 2 years? — and they always cause something to hurt, like my toe or my calf.

10 Spring Things

  1. open river! down in the flats, when I could get very close to it, I watched the small spots of foam as they slowly floated downstream
  2. sh sh sh — the sound of my feet running over the grit on the edge of the trail
  3. good morning! hello friends! — greeting the Welcoming Oaks
  4. the loud and steady sound of water rushing down over the ledges in the ravine
  5. a woman running in shorts and a jog bra
  6. mud, on the edge of the path — once, as I turned a corner, I stepped in it and almost twisted something
  7. whoosh! car wheels speeding through a puddle, water flying up
  8. along with the mud, bare dirt, some grass
  9. last week, running under the franklin bridge when it was even wetter than today, I noticed a black jacket on the ground, soaked. Today that same jacket was hanging from a branch, dry
  10. like yesterday, where there was ice on the path, there were also dead leaves — suddenly realized: someone from Minneapolis Parks had most likely spread the leaves as a natural way to make the path less slippery (as opposed to ice-melt and all of its chemicals)

Rabbits in Art

1 — Rabbit by Jeff Koons

I’m fairly certain that I’ve seen and/or heard of Koons’s Rabbit, but I only thought of it for this “rabbits in art” exploration when it came up in my google search.

DETAILS

Jeff Koons (b. 1955)
Rabbit
stainless steel
41 x 19 x 12 in. (104.1 x 48.3 x 30.5 cm.)
Executed in 1986.D

You can find the image, both close-up and to scale, on Christies auction house site. I’m choosing not to post the image in this entry because of copyright concerns. Even though my use of the image should easily fall under fair use.1

In 2019, this controversial sculpture sold for $91 million. Christies’ page for this auction item has a lot of good information about the sculpture — it’s history, significance, probably all of the citations to articles about it that you might ever need.

Here’s the opening paragraph of Christies’ essay about it:

Since its creation in 1986, Jeff Koons’s Rabbit has become one of the most iconic works of 20th-century art. Standing at just over three feet tall, this shiny steel sculpture is at once inviting and imposing. Rabbit melds a Minimalist sheen with a naïve sense of play. It is crisp and cool in its appearance, yet taps into the visual language of childhood, of all that is pure and innocent. Its lack of facial features renders it wholly inscrutable, but the forms themselves evoke fun and frivolity, an effect heightened by the crimps and dimples that have been translated into the stainless steel from which it has been made. Few works of art of its generation can have the same instant recognizability: it has been on the cover of numerous books, exhibition catalogues and magazines; a monumental blow-up version even featured in the 2007 Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. For an artist such as Koons, who is so focused on widening the sphere in which art operates and communicates, Rabbit is the ultimate case in point.

Christies

Childhood — all that is pure and innocent. Fun and frivolity.

And here’s what Jeff Koons says about it, cited in Kurt Varnadoe’s essay for Art Forum, 1986: Jeff Koons’s Rabbit:

This snarky little thumper has other stories to tell too. Koons said, “To me the Rabbit has many meanings. It is a symbol of the playboy, of fantasy and also of resurrection.” (The joining of those last two terms alone can provide food for long thought, or skepticism.) “But to me, the Rabbit is also a symbol of the orator making proclamations, like a politician. A masturbator, with a carrot to the mouth.” 

1986: Jeff Koons’s Rabbit

2 — Rabbit as Symbol

Drawing from “Going down the rabbit hole” and “Rabbit as Symbol: The Significance of Rabbits in Dreams, Literature, and Art,” here are some things that rabbits represent:

  • mortality (They are born, live and die within a short time, in line with the seasons)
  • fertility / abundance / sensuality (their rapid breeding rate)
  • innocence and vulnerability (a prey animal)
  • the Diaspora (introduced to the UK from Spain by the Romans)
  • a reliable source of food (The ability to keep rabbits would mean a fairly consistent source of meat for a struggling family)
  • treasured pet2
  • magic/mysticism/wonder/curiosity
  • gentle
  • agile
  • playful

3 — Medieval Killer Rabbits

I mentioned Monty Pythons killer rabbit last week. It comes up again in this article about drawings of bad bunnies in medieval art.

Rabbits can often be found innocently frolicking in the decorated borders or illuminations of medieval manuscripts, but sometimes, for reasons unknown, these adorable fluffy creatures turn into stone-cold killers. These darkly humorous images of medieval killer bunnies still strike a chord with modern viewers, always proving a hit on social media and popularised by Monty Python and the Holy Grail’s Beast of Caerbannog, ‘the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!’.

Medieval Killer Rabbits

I like this explanation for why bunnies were depicted as killers:

In real life, rabbits and hares are docile prey animals. But in decorated initials and marginalia, medieval artists often depicted ‘the world turned upside down’, where roles are reversed and the impossible becomes the norm. So here, rabbits are violent hunters hellbent on punishing anyone who has committed crimes against rabbit-kind.

Medieval Killer Rabbits
the Beast of Caerbannog

Last week when I mentioned Monty Python, I didn’t know they were referencing a trend in medieval art/manuscripts of rabbits behaving badly, I thought they made it up as a joke!

I think it might be time to synthesize/summarize some of this bunny information. But, that’s a project for this afternoon! Now it’s time for day two of my New Yorker Found Poem experiment!

  1. “Fair use allows limited, unlicensed use of copyrighted images for purposes like criticism, commentary, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, or research. It is a legal defense based on four factors: purpose (e.g., non-profit, educational), nature of the work, amount used, and effect on the market” (source). I have been unfairly fined before, for using an image on an academic blog (over $700 in 2012).   ↩︎
  2. “It is rare for a domesticated animal to be both considered food and a treasured pet” (source). ↩︎

New Yorker Found Poem Experiment #2

10:30 am — Before starting to work with an article, I decided to sort through RJP’s old markers and find ones that still work. At some point during the process, I realized that this looking through old markers was making me dizzy; something about it was too much for my brain and my cone-starved eyes. I stopped sorting. I should have taken a break, instead I did something else. A few minutes later, I felt woozy and needed to sit down. My hands were shaking and my legs felt tingly. My pulse was fine, but my blood pressure was elevated — 158. I think I was having a mild panic attack, triggered by the dizziness from my bad vision. Boo. It seems as if my anxiety is back. I had a nice stretch of a year+ without it. It also seems like I will need to be more careful with how I use my eyes. Too much trying to closely see something might trigger another one of these. Am I right in my assessment?

I am noticing that my vision has deteriorated more. It’s even harder to recognize the faces of actors on tv, harder to see my kids’ faces when they talk to me. Am I getting closer to the complete end of central vision?

Because of this incident, I did not start my second experiment this moring. Should I now, at 2:10 pm, or will it trigger more dizziness and anxiety?

Yes, I did it. I need to make sure I test out/find the right tools and be more deliberate in what I’m doing. I’m very messy — which is mainly because of my vision, but not completely. I’ve always been an almost and a that’s good-enough girl.

These poems are from a July 2025 article, Money Talks:

1 — Let me ask you a question

a page from an essay. Lines are blacked or covered in question marks, except one: "Let me ask you a question"
Let me ask you one questions

I like the idea of this, with all of the questions marks, but it is really sloppy and it doesn’t highlight the text that I’m using, “Let me ask you a question.” I would try this one again, but if I plan it more carefully and work on my question marks!

2 and 3

2: In the middle of a story, you are either in or you are out
3 — About nothing: it is a junk drawer for everything nobody ever heard of

Again, messy and poorly executed. I like that I used less words than the last one. I need to figure out a way to draw that I can do with my unreliable vision. It’s hard to see enough to color within the box or to draw straight lines, even with a ruler!

I like the idea of nothing as a junk drawer. It might make even more sense if I found a much, and could make nothing into nothing much.

I am listening to HCR’s politics chat for today and she said, as she often does, OOPSIE POOPSIE. I love when she says that!

march 2/RUNGETOUTICE

4.35 miles
minnehaha falls and back
39 degrees

Spring-y! Sun, above freezing, and a clear walking path! I was able to take the trail that dips below the road between the double bridge and locks and dam no. 1! Also: birds and grass and no gloves. A good run. I feel more power in my legs and able to run for longer without stopping. I heard kids on the playground, the call of a bird that sounded mechanical — similar to the strange, high-pitched siren I heard earlier today, and the doppler effect on the light rail bells as I ran south to the falls. I heard Panic at the Disco, Radiohead, Gene Autry, and The Jazz Crusaders on the way back home.

Speaking of hearing, as I write this at my desk, I can hear a woodpercker outside my window pecking on a tree in our front yard that I think is dead or dying. Every peck is saying, right right right right (you’re) right. Ugh! Is it time to call a tree service?

At some point during the run I thought about I wasn’t thinking about much of anything. Then I thought, the purpose of today’s run is not to work out a writing problem, or encounter some inspiration, but to move and breathe, feel the sun on my face, and be by the river.

10 Things

  1. a thin skin of ice on the river
  2. larger areas of the creek open with dark water, some snow stretching out from the banks
  3. an occupied bench! someone is sitting on the bench at the 44th street parking lot
  4. overheard: some guy talking to his two friends about something being only 2 loops — when I passed them a few minutes later, I noticed they had on shorts and running shoes on
  5. that same truck that seemed to be hiding under the bridge last week was back again today — why?
  6. a few parts of the trail that still had any ice or snow were also covered with dead leaves
  7. enough snow had melted so that I could cross the road and walk on a wide strip of grass instead of mud and snow
  8. vision mistake: up ahead of me, it looked like a truck was parked on the path, blocking the way. I crossed over to the parking lot then immediately realized the curve in the trail made it look like the truck was blocking it, but it wasn’t. Oops
  9. more people near the falls, more cars parked in the parking lot
  10. stopped at Rachel Dow Memorial bench to admire the view through the slender tree trunks and to take a few pictures.
bare branches, some thick, some thin, against a gray sky with hints of blue
sitting beneath the bench looking up at the trees / 2 march 2026

more rabbits bunnies

It started on 20 feb, this occupation with bunnies.1 When will it end? Not today! Here are some more bunny things I’d like to archive:

1 — buuuuunnies

In footnote 1, I mention that bunny is fun to say. That might be partly because when I say it, I think of how Tom Haverford says it on Parks and Recreation2:

2 — Boynton Bunnies

At first he was skeptical, but I’ve managed to get Scott thinking about and noticing bunnies and bunny-related things everywhere! This morning he sent me an image someone posted on social media:

text: MARCH rabbit rabbit rabbit rabbit combined with cartoon rabbits, looking cute (and not remotely real)
you say rabbits, and I say bunnies / you say comics, and I say funnies

Actually, I don’t say funnies — who says funnies? — but it worked for the reference to “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off.” Is Sandra Boynton still popular in 2026? I remember her greeting cards in the 80s and her kids books in the aughts. What was the one with the cd/songs that FWA and RJP loved? did they love it? I can’t remember; I think they at least liked it, or was that just me who did? I think the book/album was Philadelphia Chickens.

In addition to sending me random bunny images he finds, Scott was willing to watch the Disney Alice in Wonderland, which was awesomely weird, and sadly could never be made now, I think. Some of the nonsense in it, which was fabulous, reads not as kooky kid imagination but as being under the influence of psychedelics. There was also this menacing edge to the characters Alice encounters: they seemed fun or dangerous at any given moment. Two examples: the flowers in the garden — that head Rose! — and Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum — doing fun acrobatics but also stopping Alice from leaving.

3 — the Bronze Bunny

Their official name is “Cottontail on the Trail” because they are a bronze statue of a cottontail and they are right on the minnehaha bike trail, but I always call them the bronze bunny. Other people call them the Minnehaha Bunny.

The sculpture has garnered the nickname of the “Minnehaha Bunny” from residents.[4] Children often climb on the sculpture and people who live nearby have frequently costumed and decorated it based on seasonal occasions or topical events such as leaving eggs by the sculpture during Easter or cladding the mouth of the sculpture with a large cloth face mask during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Wikipedia entry

I’ve written about this bunny on here before. They’re 4.5 or so miles from my house so I only see them on bike rides and long runs when I am training for the marathon. Passing the bunny on a run is a big deal; it means that I’m fit enough to run for 10 miles or more.

This bunny was erected in 2002, but it seems like it’s been here much longer.

  1. I’ve tried to say rabbits, but I just like bunnies better. I think it’s partly because of how it sounds as I say it. ↩︎
  2. Finding and creating this clip took WAY longer than it should have. I kept at it because I was determined to get the clip, not because Tom saying “buuunnies” was worth it (I think I spelled buuuunnies with one n in my title, ugh), but because I wanted to figure this out. Before losing most of my cone cells it was so much easier to do stuff like this. ↩︎

Get Out Ice

Here’s an example of an existing group using their established community to provide mutual aid and support to people during the ICE occuption: How a Dungeons & Dragons meetup turned into mutual aid during ICE operations. Members have organized “know your rights” workshops, accompanied immigrants to appointments, coordinated food donations, and made barbecue for families in need.

This quotation fits with the erasure poem I’ve been working on this morning:

“In a story, you can be the underdog who defeats the big, bad, evil entity,” said D&D player Kat Hennan. “I think that having that kind of thought exercise and storytelling right now is extremely important.”

New Yorker Found Poetry Experiment, Day 1:

Picked a random old New Yorker. Found an interesting article, “The End of the Essay: What comes after A.I has destroyed college writing? / Hua Hsu. Put my watch timer on for 30 minutes.

Poem:

question: Has there ever been a time in human history when the arts could not offer hope and help us to be open to more possibilities?
answer: Never

A good first try. It’s funny that I want to do these visual poems when I struggle so much to see the words or how to make the boxes and lines that I need, but something in me keeps persisting, so I’ll keep trying. Hopefully it will get easier.

It’s messy — and with my vision, it will always be. and I added an extra to that’s just floating out there, disconnected. It’s too busy with too many lines. But it was fun and challenging and I like the poem I came up with a response to an article about AI ruining college writing.

When I showed it to Fletcher, he liked it and said there were ways to refine it. I agree, but not to this poem. I wrote on the original essay and I don’t have another copy. The question: next time should I scan the essay before drawing on it, or is the risky (you only get one shot) approach part of the challenge and the fun?

a found poem
experiment #1 / 2 march 2026

note: I also need to learn how to take better pictures of my work!