Poetry. Without fanfare, in the subtlest way, the poems of Albert Garcia teach us the essentials of how to live richly with exactly what we have. By attending to ordinary life with extraordinary sensitivity, they tap the mystery that lies like an aquifer below the surface of things, quietly informing everything we do. We come away refreshed, feeling wiser and more compassionate, our senses sharpened. "Albert Garcia has a considerable gift for noticing and writing about what he calls "our days of ordinary wonders." His images are precise and beautiful. These poems are near to the heart of things--there is love, complexity, sadness and celebration. I am thankful for this bright and honest book"--Gary Short.
Albert J. Garcia is a native of Northern California. He grew up on a walnut orchard near Red Bluff, and much of his work has a connection to the valley. He graduated from California State University, Chico, and the University of Montana. He is the author of a book of poetry, Rainshadow: Poems, published by Copper Beech Press, and of a textbook, Digging in: Literature for Developing Writers.
His poems have appeared in Prairie Schooner, The Laurel Review, Poetry East, Mid-American Review, Yankee, The North American Review, and other journals. Among his awards, he has received an Emerging Artists Fellowship from the Sacramento Metropolitan Arts Commission.
A former naturalist at Lassen Volcanic National Park, Garcia currently lives in the rural community of Wilton, California, with his wife and three children. He has taught community college English for 22 years, and serves as dean of the Language and Literature Division at Sacramento State City College.
This is a slim book of poems (31 total) that gently and lovingly illuminates moments in the life of a husband and father, mostly by using the natural world and everyday occurrences (driving to work, doing chores) as backdrops for insight. These poems aren't at all showy, but they do leave the impression of a poet who thinks deeply and doesn't feel the need to shout. Garcia's imagery is clear and simple, and his poems can give the impression of being first drafts, going right from observation to page, but if you write, you know this is rarely the case. His craft here is subtle and deliberate, like that of a sculptor; he carves away what's unnecessary to show the picture, making it look easy.
I first read Garcia recently; his poem Mosquitofish appeared in this year's Hawai'i Pacific Review, and I loved it so much I sought out this book (this was his 2nd book, he had a debut in 1996 called Rainshadow). He's a professor in California who deserves a wider following.
And here are some excerpts from my favorite, since I couldn't find any others of his online; [...] indicates skipped stanzas, which really are necessary to appreciate the whole poem, but I wasn't sure I should post the whole thing here.
I Watch You Paint
After stretching wet paper over board, washing in the first gray hues, leaving white where the man and woman will stand, you step back and squint.
[...]
I see now the man's hand is on her shoulder. There is wind. Her white dress blows tight against her body. I want to ask you what is happening but it seems the wind is in you.
[...]
Finally, you sit back and look across the room. Then you glance at me, and it seems I haven't seen you in years. I say the painting is sad. You say it's not finished.
Albert Garcia takes the everyday and makes it sublime. From the quiet early morning before the people in his house awake to the swimming ways of a manatee, Garcia's poems are gentle revelations.