Jeanine Walker
Jeanine Walker loves words. Her love-affair with practicing ways to say the unsayable started decades ago and continued through her travels in Korea and southeast Asia, to Houston and the pedagogical rigor of a Ph.D. in Creative Writing, to the intricate power dynamics intrinsic in being a landlord in a neighborhood bent on gentrification, to a move to the stunning northwest landscape of Seattle, where she writes, teaches, and manages the Writers in the Schools program at Seattle Arts & Lectures. Jeanine composes poems daily and takes great pleasure in finding inspiration in everything around her: whale bones, dead trees, murk, blankets, sandals, saddles, kind of fast clouds, smiling, tapping, holding a note with her breath, bunkers, refurbished cobblestone, turning up at strange places having no memory as per how she got there, groves, construction sites, plankton, the human ego, the human automobile, light posts, pen caps, burnt driftwood, loops, tests, fumes, ponds, basketball, doh, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, doh.