I’m stuck within
the healing threshold
drowning in grief.
Too stubborn
to turn back,
too tired
to move on.
Sacred scars
raised, I lick
to quench
a November thirst.
Navigation bleak
across the silken
land to peace.
Sister moon,
give me your light;
a blister in this bitter air,
as once again
with head down
and heart up,
I set forth
into becoming adrift.
A few weeks ago, when I was in the thick of my separation and wondering how I was going to get through the rest of 2020, I made a commitment to myself to designate October as a creative retreat month. I’m not going anywhere, but I am protecting my time to retreat from the world and outside commitments in order to focus on my creative practice.
Due to circumstances, I’ve allowed things to get lost in transition. Focusing on what brings me joy, like reading and writing and creating haven’t been top of my list for ages, it feels. So protecting October, my favourite month of the year, my birth month, as time and space to re-engage with my creative projects and start some new ones felt right for me.
Only a few days into October, and I was inspired in a poetry workshop to attempt #thesealychallenge. This challenge is to read thirty-one poetry books or chapbooks in the thirty-one days of August. I know it’s October but I’m coming late to the party. But I feel this is just what I need to relight my fire, put pen to paper and write poetry.
So far this month, I’ve read 5 poetry collections and chapbooks. What I’m doing while reading is also collecting words, single words which I like the sound of, or I find are being used in new and usual ways. Words that stir my interest and create a reaction.
What this reading is doing is inspiring me to write again. So from just reading other people’s work, immersing myself in the world of poetry again, I’ve created 6 new poems. So I’m going all the way this time, and trying for 31 poems by the end of the month; 31 poems in 31 days.
This has already gotten me through a block, a fear that was starting to take hold of me that I might be only able to write while in crisis, while in an unhappy state. But by producing something over the last few days, I’ve now put that fear to rest. I’m back, reading and writing, writing and reading.
A special two-part creative workshop to develop new and exciting ways of observing and capturing your experiences with nature (especially our smallest creatures), led by Dr Sheree Mack, Writer in Residence at Northumberland National Park.
Thursday 8 October 10:30 – 12:00
Thursday 22 October 10.30-12.00
Inspired by our Action for Insects campaign, the group workshop (run virtually via Zoom) involves two 1.5 hour sessions (8th and 22ndOctober) to learn more about the fascinating and vital world of insects, and how you can help protect them in our region. The campaign is aimed at reversing the decline of our smallest creatures, of which 41% of species currently face extinction.
Dr Mack, will help develop your creative techniques, guiding you through a variety of ways to observe nature using words, imagery and audio to bring your experiences to life. Between workshops, you’ll be encouraged to collect your own experiences of the natural world, then you’ll have the chance to share these with the group, gaining feedback and insight into the journeys of yourself and others.
Anyone over 18 can join, so if you enjoy flexing your creative flair, want to find new ways of connecting to nature, or simply want the chance to meet and share experiences with others from the safety of your own home, then this workshop is for you!
For more details and to book click here.
Many moons ago, I went to Washington State to visit a new friend, Sarah Spaeth, who I met while picking grapes on Monteleone in Lazio, Italy. That was over 10 years Aga now and we’ve been friends ever since. We’ve had some adventures in the States, over here in Scotland and also Iceland.
While I was in residence with the Jefferson Land Trust, where Sarah was the Executive Director at the time, I fell in love with Fort Walden which was just down the road from where I was staying. It’s a national park with the sea, beach and trees and a creative centre, called Centrum.
I remember Sarah talking about this centre while in Italy and how much I would love it there and to come and see. She was right, I felt right at home there. And when I took my family over there, we spent plenty of hours hanging out there. It was my dream to sometime return and do a writing retreat there, or attend their summer writing program.
The summer writing program is just like going back to college for a week. Writing workshops in the morning and afternoon and then evening readings. To be immersed in writing for a whole week, with other writers, bliss. Obviously this year, it’s had to be cancelled. So instead they’re offering a Summer Writing Intensive but virtually. The next best thing. And something I could so attend.
So I am, starting tomorrow, I’m going to writing college and going to spend the week in poetry and fiction workshops. Go to some readings in the evening, but totally live the writer’s life and I do so from the comfort of my own home. And what’s even neater is that I’ve been given a scholarship to take part for which I am so grateful.
So apologies not is you don’t see me here next week, as I’ll be soaking up the writing atmosphere and vibes from across the pond.
I’ve started, so I’ll finish. My thoughts when I think about coming here to record my readings for last month; June. This is the only way I’m keeping track of what I’m reading in terms of books, and when I started I felt it would be a worthwhile pursuit. Something to look back at, at the end of the year, and be proud at the achievement. At the fact of reading so many books. I didn’t set a target I don’t think. But forgive if I’m wrong as January feels so far away now. And thank God for this practice as I can’t remember what I read back then. Or even last month if I think about it. Hence being here now, before any more days of July rolls by and I haven’t marked down what books I read in June.
So here is the list of completed reads. And I’ve got so many other books on the go at the moment that I won’t be able to share them all, but I’ll share a smattering of them to give you an idea. There have been times when it’s been difficult to concentrate on a long read. I’d read a chapter and then skip off to do something else, or read something else. Concentration and focus have been elusive. I think that’s where poetry collections come into play. Quick and easy and brief.
Books read this month:
1. Horses Make a Landscape Look More Beautiful by Alice Walker
2. Mama Amazonica by Pascal Petit
3. Between the Islands by Philip Gross
4. Hare Soup by Dorothy Molloy
5. Ledger by Jane Hirshfield
6. Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz
7. The Creative Doer by Anna Lovid
Books in progress this month:
1. Overstory by Richard Powers
2. Becoming by Michelle Obama
3. Grassling by Elizabeth-Jane Burnett
4. The Sea Inside by Philip Hoare
5. Seeing the Body by Rachel Eliza Griffiths
6. Ecotherapy: Healing with nature in mind edited by Linda Buzzell and Craig Chalquist
Black earth darkness. Daffodils in greens.
The big house on the hill shrouded by trees.
You at the window watching for my advance.
You always waiting alone to let me home.
A wound of grief, dark as the night,
swells in her hands like sycamore leaves.
Since May, I’ve been sharing my writing on Medium. This is a platform I’ve tired a number of times before but for some reason the habit just didn’t stick. I now know this probably had something to do with having nothing really to say. But now I do.
I’ve been contributing to the Binderful Blog, which a small online community of women, started a few years ago, which offers classes to support women questioning their lives. Maybe shaking up the status quo from the kitchen table outwards. I’m due to create a class with Binderful but in the meantime, I’ve been writing on Medium for them.
If you’re interested in checking out what I’ve shared so far then click below to read the articles.
Pandemic Food Ways: A Little Sweet Treat
Waiting To Be Allowed In
The streets are on fire.
Smoke coats our tongues
like iron in our blood.
We walk for our rights
as weedy paths like barbed
wire lacerate our ankles.
God is in our shouts.
Demands for justice pour
forth smelling of lilies.
Winds of hope on the horizon
are felt like cherry blossom,
delicate and beautiful
but not short lived.
I was attempting to complete my second round of #100daysofblogging while also creating a poem a day for National Poetry Writing Month in April. I was going well. I past the mid-point, and I just ran out of steam. And I also think enjoyment. I wasn’t really inspired with what I was writing. I think I was writing for writing sake. To fulfil the challenges and not my soul. Sometimes this works for me. I know in the past, I’ve created daily words for years and thought nothing about it. But I suppose I’m getting older and wiser and also figuring out what’s important to me and no one else. What my gut has to say about things takes precedent.
I have been writing in other places though during this impasse on the blog. I have a piece over on Medium for the The Binderful Blog titled, ‘Learning to Stay Inside,’ and documents my journey with the Coronavirus. I have also returned to my mixed-media memoir and I’m happy to say we’re in love. We spend a lot of time together getting to know each other again and working out what’s working between us and what’s not. We’re open and honest with other, basing our relationship on our vulnerabilities. I’m more than satisfied with how things are working out between us. I know I have to keep honouring this process by turning up each day and just touching in.
Turning up here today to find some words I needed for the memoir, meant I took the time to read over some past posts. See where I was at different times over the last five years. While reading, I gained a sense of perspective as well as pride for what I have created here. I love my website, because it’s attempt to present me and my process to the world. And it’s not polished or professional but it is real. It gives you a glimpse behind the curtain. It’s honest and vulnerable and it is so me.
So I’m not going to beat myself up for not completing a challenge. And I’m also not going to beat myself up if I miss days, or weeks before coming back here to blog. I’m learning to treat myself with more grace. And how that’s looks it still a work in progress but I do know as Michelle Obama wisely said, it is becoming.
” Becoming isn’t about arriving somewhere or achieving a certain aim. It’s forward motion, a mans of evening, a way to reach continuously towards a better self. “
Living Wild Studios 