The October 20th issue of The New Yorker magazine contains an excellent profile of poet/mythographer Gary Snyder.
Here's a taste:
"Snyder, who is seventy-eight, has written nineteen books of poems and essays that are engaged with watersheds, geology, logging, backpacking, enthnopoetics, Native American oral storytelling, communal living, sex, coyotes, bears, Tibetan deities, Chinese landscape painting, Japanese Noh drama, and the intimacies of family life....He is, notably, a poet of the Pacific Rim. He told me, 'I think of my territory as that which I have walked in person and know the weather at any given time of year, know a lot of the critters, and know a lot of the people. That would be from around Baja up to Alaska, through the Aluetian Islands, then pick up again in Hokkaido, down Japan and into Taiwan and the south coast of China, and the Pacific, which I know pretty well, having sailed it a half a dozen times by a nice slow boat going fourteen knots, day and night."
Now that is a poet's life.
The second item to share:
This blog post on the Atlantic magazine website made me cry.