What is the greatest thing about the place you call home?
I have moved around enough to learn that home is a feeling, not a place. Like my writing, my home is a mixture of memories and wishes and small things that only have meaning to me.
For example, my wife wanted a ship lap accent wall. I installed the ship lap using her dearly departed father’s supply of nails. We now have a reason to remember him fondly every time we look at the wall.
What turns you on creatively?
I have been pleasantly surprised that simple daily internet writing prompts have proven so beneficial at prodding me into new directions. I especially like to closely follow a few Twitter poetry prompts to get the juices flowing.
In purely operational terms, I often use a voice-to-text app that allows me to speak notes into my phone as soon as an idea strikes. This is a great way to foster creativity during my grueling morning commute.
What is your favorite word, and can you use it in a poetic sentence?
The Greek word ‘hupomone’ is tattooed on my right arm. It can be translated as ‘the capacity to endure hardship.’ It often reminds me of a stirring scene from Shakespeare’s Henry V when the French herald comes one last time to demand Henry’s surrender before a superior force attacks his small, sickly army…
“I pray thee bear my former answer back: Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones. Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?
Let me speak proudly: tell the Constable We are but warriors for the working-day; Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch’d With rainy marching in the painful field;
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald, They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints; Which if they have as I will leave ’um them, Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.“
What is your pet peeve?
The Christian Bible has a vivid, almost snarky bit of wisdom that asks:
“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?”
Which reminds me to pay close attention to the things that annoy me, because I am probably more annoying to someone else.
Now that the disclaimer is out of the way, all of my peeves can be boiled down to things that get in my way. I am the human embodiment of inertia. If I am still, I want to stay still. But, if I am moving, get the hell outta my way.
What defines Mickey Kulp?
You must break glass to make a beautiful mosaic. The startling transition from something I thought was good and useful to something else that is good and useful (yet profoundly different) has defined me.