Vanessa Shields's Blog, page 13

Interviews & Invitations!

Poet Laureate Interview is tomorrow!

Hello friends! So tomorrow morning between 10am and 10:30am, I will be zoomin’ with a jury in an interview for the Poet Laureate position. I am feeling…sort of like a living heart rate image – up and down and up and down with emotions. I swing from feeling elated and confident to ugly and fear-heavy, and all the feels in between. I know that some of this fluctuating emotional turmoil is in part due to my very raw and real peri-menopausal hormones, but some is also good, old-fashioned nerves that fire up before the possibility of a big dream coming true.

I’ve been writing in my journal to clear my head. I’ve been eating comfort foods to satiate my body – and remind me that I have a body when the voices in my head are like a death-metal concert.

This…from Yin writing this morning…

“I wonder if the food and the hunger is an anchor. I wonder if its’ my body’s way of trying to maintain some grasp on reality. To remind myself that I’m not just a mind. That I am flesh and a body and people need me…”

Lyz (https://lyz.substack.com/p/i-am-always-hungry-when-i-write?r=an5&s=r&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email&utm_source=Sailthru&utm_term=lithub_weekly_master_list)

…really feels quite timely and an excellent explanation of how I feel. I’m constantly in…what’s the best word? A tug-of-war? An internal battle? A struggle…between my body and my mind, and food is a major player (Major Player?That’s a rank in an army, no?). Alas, I’m not getting into this very complicated relationship now, but it’s enough to say that as this interview day/time nears, I’m a body full of battles attempting to keep my true self, my passion for poetry and my courage on the frontlines.

(Perhaps it is untimely to use a war metaphor with so much real war suffering happening in the world…but one of the things that I’m constantly fighting is the Censor in my mind that, no matter what thought I have, puts it through a rigorous process of dissection to make sure the thought is ‘acceptable’, ‘politically correct’, and/or won’t cause a frightful backlash or cancellation of the thought/me. Every time, I reach the end of said dissection, exhausted and shaking, with one or more reasons NOT to write the thought at all. It is daunting and scary. But it is also necessary. I am a writer. Metaphors are meaning-full and important. Intention matters, and I do my very best to write with kindness, from a place of love. This internal war is very real to me. And part of being a courageous writer, I believe, is standing on our own personal battlefields and being witness, paying attention, and embracing what we see, feel and do so we can share it with love.)

And so, I ask, kindly and with love, for some good vibes tomorrow. If you think of me, push some courage and love my way! I will feel it and use it. I am already grateful! The support thus far has been the sunshine on my battle field. The heart-shaped clouds. The cluster of flowers. The swooping, singing birds…I will let you know how it goes! And of course, when the position is announced, we celebrate no matter the outcome. (I’m thinking big dance party. 80’s/90’s dance hits. Cupcakes and cookies…!)

*I am NOT the poet laureate – this is just a dream signature on this image!Literary Luncheon tickets still available!

I will be starting rehearsals for this – my first LIVE READING in years! – very soon! The choosing of poems to read, the figuring out what to wear, the getting the hair done…all the excitement of a live event is coming back to me!

To order your tickets, please call 519-945-1863 ext. 237. Tables are for ten. You can request to sit at the same table as your friends/family. The event begins at 11:45am. We feast first, then there’s the reading, then there’s book sales and signings (all of my books will be for sale, including our new poetry anthology ‘Community’! Yay!). There is no end time on the poster because the event ends when it ends…so I’d say prepare to be there until at least 2:30pm…or later!

Shout out to Carol Parent, organizer extraordinaire, who has been very kind and patient with me during the planning of this event. Thank you, Carol!

National Poetry Month #NPM22

The theme for National Poetry Month 2022 is Intimacy. Isn’t that a fine theme?! I’m so excited about it, I’ve decided to write a poem every day in April about intimacy. I’m thinking, the intimacy of kissing, the intimacy of flowers, the intimacy of sunshine…got any ideas? If so, drop a comment or send me an email and I’ll write a poem on your intimacy idea!

To find out more about National Poetry Month, please click HERE. The League of Canadian Poets have many fun events, images and more to help celebrate the month. Also, take a look at Rattle, click HERE . And Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, HERE. There’s Poetry in Voice, HERE. (Did you know that students from Windsor high schools have WON this national poetry recitation competition?!)And Poets & Writers, HERE.

What are your poetry go-tos when you just need to get lathered in poetic beauty?

Speaking of Poetry – Black Moss Press Spring Launch is Wednesday, April 6th – live!

This is the culmination of the University of Windsor’s Publishing Practicum course that has been publishing new books each year for decades. This year’s fabulous instalment includes poet Terry Ann Carter (British Columbia) with her book First I Fold the Mountain, and local playwright/poet, Christopher Lawrence Menard with his book at the end, beginnings. The launch is a free, TWO-PART EVENT taking place at Kordazone Theatre on Wednesday, April 6th, 2022. Please register ahead of time!

Kordazone Theatre address:

KordaZone Theater
2520 Seminole Street
Windsor, ON N8Y 1X4 *Free parking is in the back and/or on the street.

Books will be for sale and signing, however, if you’re itchin’ to get your paws on the books now, please pre-order here:

at the end beginnings, a memoir in poems by Christopher Lawrence Menard

First I Fold the Mountain by Terry Ann Carter

EVENT INFO!

From 5:30pm – 6:30pm, join Christopher Lawrence Menard, Mary Ann Mulhern and the U of W students for the first event. EVENT BRITE REGISTRATION LINK HERE.

From 8pm – 10pm, is the second event, featuring Christopher Lawrence Menard, the students and more! EVENT BRITE REGISTRATION LINK HERE.

Yes, you can register to attend both events. There are two session to accommodate COVID restrictions.

To learn more about these incredible collections:

at the end beginnings – Facebook Page

First I Fold the Mountain – Facebook Page

“Menard offers his writing hand to grief; pauses to contemplate what grief wants from him, his father, his mother. This is a poignant disclosure that lifts the intimacy between partners into parents, between writer and reader. We deep-dive into liminal spaces – the lingering memories, the persistent poignancies, the powerful pains between transitions of ends into beginnings and beginnings into ends. We are nestled in trifectas: crest, crash, wake; father, mother, son; father, son, grandson; child, adult, parent; love, loss, legacy; faith, spirit, hope; beginning, middle, end. Here is an inaugural collection of poetry that dares to reveal the light as fervently as it shrieks at the dark. We discover through Menard’s display of glistening paradoxes that ends and beginnings are, in fact, intrinsically expressions of a singular human experience: love.”

Vanessa Shields

Though I have not had the chance to read Terry Ann’s book yet, stay tuned for a Guest Interview Post coming up where we can get to know Terry Ann and her book a little more intimately! As well, I’ll be featuring Christopher Lawrence Menard in a Guest Interview as well! Yay!

Congratulations to Christopher, Terry Ann, the students and the Black Moss Press family!

This launch is happening too! The Running Shaped Hole by Robert Earl Stewart

Congratulations to Robert (Bob) Earl Stewart on his delicious new memoir, The Running-Shaped Hole (Dundurn Press, 2022). I’m currently eating my way through this delectable life story…more to come on this!

To purchase a copy of Bob’s book, CLICK HERE or purchase from your favourite local bookstore.

Event info HERE!

Jane’s Walk 2022 – live!JANE JACOBS, URBANIST

I’d like to bring your attention to a super cool live event happening across our fine city the first weekend in May – the Jane’s Walk!

Jane’s Walks are free citizen-led walks of neighbourhoods. Jane’s Walk celebrates the legacy and ideas of urban activist and writer Jane Jacobs by getting people out exploring neighbourhoods and meeting their neighbours.
Windsor-Essex Jane’s Walk is back outside and online for 2022. 
The festival runs from Friday, May 6th to Sunday, May 8th. 

Jane’s Walk, Windsor

There are three ways to participate in this very cool event!

On-line Walks – INFO HERE!

In-Person Walks – INFO HERE!

Art Submission – INFO HERE!

Deadline to sign up to host a live/live-streamed tour is April 6, 2022.

For more information, please visit the Janes’ Walk WEBSITE HERE.

Thanks everyone! Here’s to wonderful roll into April!

So this is what’s been happening…

Hello friends! It’s been over a month since I’ve last written. Isn’t that wild? What a difference from last year when I wrote a poem every day. Where is that energy and dedication? It is fluttering…fluttering…I have needed time to be…quiet. To put my head down and work. To worry and dream. To sleep and pray. I can’t tell you how many times I started a blog post and then just couldn’t finish it. I hope that this mega-catch-up will show you how things have been…and how I hope they’ll be in the near future. That is, more sharing, writing poetry again, and a conscious effort to write even if my heart feels shy.

Writing Retreat in February w/ Charis Cotter

For five days in mid-February, my writing partner Charis Cotter and I had our yearly writing retreat. Once again, we were bound to the virtual landscape to make this happen, but it didn’t deter us from an intense week of writing, sharing, complaining, laughing, learning and feeling! I spent time at Gertrude’s as well as at home – following the quiet in each location. This was our longest writing retreat yet coming in a five days in a row – Monday to Friday – 9am – 3pm, with an added evening on the Wednesday for tea and talk.

Charis had a tremendous week – completing the fifth (sixth?!) draft of her latest novel, finding out that both she and her daughter received a Canada Council grant (AMAZING!), and confirming an exciting new writing project that would begin in March. Me, I started two new non-fiction kid’s projects, did a lot of writing in my journal, and worked on an Access Copyright grant for a mentorship.

As per usual, by the end, we felt like it wasn’t enough time, and we yearned for an in-person retreat! I felt the weight of not completing projects that I started…and tried not to get down on myself about it as I did complete the grant application and made plans for in-person workshops at Gertrude’s for March.

Writing retreats are essential. Giving ourselves dedicated time to write for our heart projects and/or complete projects is extremely important. Making it known to family and friends that the retreat is happening is also a critical part of the process so that everyone in your support groups knows what you’re doing and can help you stay focused on the writing.

By Friday, I did find myself unable to avoid doing some ‘work’ work…I did feel stress in that regard, and we had some good conversations about this. We talked about ‘work’ – the things we do that aren’t ‘heart writing’, but that are related to our writing in some shape or form like planning school visits, emails, grants, and collaborations. Our ‘work’ lives are so entwined with our writing lives – we could ‘work’ every day for 8 hours and never be ‘finished.’ But that is the nature of our work…of work in general these days, so we also talked about the importance of NOT WORKING and planning days off to relax and read and walk and dream.

Thank you, Charis, for another stellar writing retreat! I can’t wait for the next one!

More in March…

I decided to offer in-person workshops at Gertrude’s this month. This is very exciting! It is keeping me busy prepping and gathering. Both workshops sold out – one is tomorrow night! I’m enjoying the different preparations in-person workshops need…and then the joyful, emotional and intimate experiences of writers gathering in the same place to write and share. It feels so good to reach out and hold a hand, to embrace, to clink coffee mugs, to share silence….

March Break was full. I’ve been feeling the urge to purge. On the Tuesday, my mom came over and we cleaned out my laundry room. We worked all day! I have photos…but I’m too embarrassed to show them. The ‘before’ was really something. But, we have lots to donate, lots to share, and now I have a dedicated folding station!

We also babysat a puppy which made our in-house animal total = 3! Oh the mud! Oh the fur! Oh the snuggles! Oscar and Pages had a blast playing with and teaching this fine little fur friend. They definitely tired each other out!

I’m growing out my hair. And mostly, I want to cut it all off.

I haven’t grown my hair out since after Miller was born…that’s some 13 years ago. I feel like I have one grow-out left in me before I keep it short/shaved until I hit the heavens. It is a gruelling process. Most days I don’t like how my hair looks, how I look with it grey and unruly on my head. Sometimes I want to dye it dark brown. Sometimes I want to cut off large chunks so it looks like a bad haircut, but, you know, cool. But I want long hair so I can braid it. That’s my motivation. Braids that reach to my boobs. I don’t even know if that’s possible! And I’m telling you this because I have a lot of feelings about this. Energy goes into not cutting my hair off. Many thoughts bang in my head about hair, what it means to me, how it makes me feel, whether or not how it looks really is ‘me’. Which brings me to my next sharing…

I’m in Peri-Menopause and I feel Crazy.

I have wild dreams and hot flashes. I laugh like a wild witch. I cry like a wounded child. I can’t make decisions. I have silly cravings. Falling asleep is very hard. Waking up is even harder. The voices in my head are constantly yelling. I feel rage for no apparent reason. I feel pregnant once a month. My body is like a foreign land with its own language and dialects for each part. I know I need to write about this. About how this life-change is changing my body, my mind, my self. But mostly, I’m dealing with major energetic shifts every hour, and I get drop-on-the-couch exhausted, and all the words I need to write and share crawl back inside me and hide. This is why I’ve been so quiet here…I have so much to say…and then the voices talk me out of it. But, I’m working on it.

I’m on the Nancy Duffy Show!

Longtime friend and inspiration Nancy Duffy posted our conversation about ‘thimbles’ on her podcast, The Nancy Duffy Show! Nancy has been interviewing and having meaningful, passionate conversations with creatives from near and far! Her shows are delightful, engaging, emotional and heartfelt – just what we need!

To hear the episode, CLICK HERE.

ANOTHER ANTHOLOGY PUBLISHED!

On March 19, 2022, myself and co-editor extraordinaire, Irene Moore Davis, hosted the virtual launch for Gertrude’s Writing Room’s newest anthology: Community! It was a grand event with more than 50 poets, family and friends tuning in with open hearts and big smiles!

The submission call was back in September 2021, so this publication has been a long time comin’! We are so proud of and grateful for this collection of poetry that literally gathers poets from around the WORLD in unity through community!

Books are for sale! $20.00. To order your copy, please email me! (shieldsvanessa@gmail.com)

FIRST LIVE EVENT IN 3 YEARS! JOIN ME!

It’s been years since I’ve done a live event for poetry. The spell is finally ending! I have the pleasure and honour of being a guest for the Windsor Yacht Club’s Literary Luncheon series. I will be reading from ‘thimbles’! Indeed, it will be an emotional sharing that I can feel in my bones already! If you can believe it, my virtual launch for ‘thimbles’ was Thursday, April 29, 2021. This luncheon is marks nearly a year since then! It would be incredible to share food and words with you! Will you join me?

To reserve your tickets, please call the Windsor Yacht Club at 519-945-1863.

*There will also be book sales and signing! Payment types: cash, credit, debit.

Poet Laureate Update

I’ve got an interview for the Poet Laureate position coming up on March 30. This is the next part of the process after handing in the application. Oh mama, mama’s nervous. Did you know when I get anxious, I like to create little logos/images? I made this one (left)…if I get the position, I’d like to make stickers. Of course, I want to make stickers! This would be one of them. I suppose this helps me dream about the dream coming true possibility of it all. I’ve also been reading over the incredible letters of support I received…these are helping me incredibly with my confidence. Thank you again for your support! I will keep us updated on what happens.

April is National Poetry Month – Intimacy is the theme

Poster design by Megan Fildes

I’m getting excited about National Poetry Month! The theme is intimacy and oh lordy, it is ever time for some of that! I will be writing a poem a day on the theme of intimacy. Yay!

For more information on this fine celebration of poetry, please CLICK HERE, and see how you can engage with other poets and the League of Canadian Poets. So. Much. Yay!!!

Here we are…

And so, if you’ve made it this far….thank you! Ha! I will work harder to write. To share. Because it’s important to me and as I bob-and-weave through the seasons and this wild-woman ageing experience, I have to remember that I am a writer. Writers write. If it surprises you that I could forget such a thing…such a purpose…it surprises me too. That’s been one of the most challenging parts of ‘me’ these days…feeling ‘me’ is often foggy. Alas, the earth is warming. The moon is worming (full moon was on Friday – the worm moon!). Today is the Spring equinox – equal light and equal dark – and I’m feeling in balance for the first time in awhile.

Keep spreading love and peace, friends.

Moon, Musings & Mermaids

The prompt:

Here is one of the writing prompts from our morning Yin write. Write three words that describe this time of year for you. My response came in poetry.

Shadow

…the darkness is getting softer
her cloak is thinning
the stars & moon are beginning
to take hold of her
gently pull her back –

inside her shadows are scrambling

Anticipation

When will spring open her arms?
Bring her bounty of warmth
Moisten the ground & feed the seeds
With her sweet murmurs of new beginnings?

Weather

My body swings between snowflakes & raindrops
Crouches into snow squalls & wind gusts

I am curved – an arrow pointing to change
My skin speaks ‘enough, enough, enough’
A mantra of hope, its yearning centre
Desperate for heat so I can shed –
Feel the sun’s lips kissing my naked body
In the throes of a summer high noon

Sizzle – I want to sizzle again

Snow Moon

The Snow Moon graced our sky yesterday, and though I didn’t see her under the fat rain clouds, I certainly felt her charged Leo energy roaring for hope, change, creativity, fresh beginnings. I can feel Spring lifting up her skirts, putting on her polka-dot rain boots. Can you feel it too? Can you smell her perfume? I’ve caught her scent when I opened the kitchen window because I burned the garlic (again)…she was made her way up my nostrils and reminded me to laugh at my continued learnings (and failures) with food.

All the energy of this time is telling me to flow. This is a challenge as I am a planner, a goal-setter, ambitious to emotional outbreak. I am a professional worrier who is changing careers in this regard!

My days are filled with grant applications, talking with writers, listening to friends, laughing with family. I am in waiting…the gestation of new beginnings moves around my body like a squirmy snake. A nice snake.

And there’s this: me back in the pool for mermaid swimming! Thank you, Mariette, for urging me to jump back in.

Onward, friends…peacefully, kindly, magically.

Curiosity & Confusion & Photos & Poetry

Curiosity

Oh friends! It’s been too long! It feels very…different to go from writing every.single.day for 365 days to writing every.single.day for 24 days this year…and then BAM stopping. But the truth is…I just can’t do it again this year! There are too many other *BIG* things going on in my life. Perhaps I’ll figure out a way to write and share more frequently. The magnetic force connecting me to posting every day has weakened tremendously. Some days, I don’t even think about it. Isn’t that curious?

Curious. That’s my jam, it seems, so far this year. The word keeps coming up in conversations, in oracle cards, in prayers…and so I’m going with the flow of it. It is a word that gives me lots of room to breathe. And that’s what I desire.

I’ve applied to be Windsor’s next Poet Laureate. It is a four-year commitment. I am ready to commit. I am also ready to keep doing what I’m doing. And this, dear friends, has taken much reflection, much gratitude, much prayer, and much energy. I’ve always been ‘curious’ as to when I’d begin to reach a point in my life when ‘outcome’ loses its thick rope around heart and soul. Such a grip it has! I’ve done some deep excavation about the Poet Laureate position: from asking myself if I truly desire to take on this role, to dreaming about what I (we) could create, cultivate and accomplish, to accepting that whether I get it or not, I still am and will forever be a poet, a teacher, a community-builder.

It’s true…with age comes wisdom! It comes in tiny drops that actually weight a universe, but it comes and it seeps in and it feels very, very…curious.

She’s a whopper comin’ in at 66 pages!

I am overflowing with gratitude for the pouring in of support for this application. I will keep it near me always and when I’m feeling blue or red or discouraged or lonely, I will go to it and read the outstanding letters of love. Thank you all so much!

Confusion

Another truth: Mama’s in peri-menopause. I’ll be 44 in May, and my body is heaving through the beginning of its change. I’ve been fighting it. Doing the things I’ve been doing my whole life to change my body, to feel better, to quiet the demon women in my head. The thing is, my body is shifting from a baby-making vessel to a wise-woman vessel. It’s a whole new ball game up in here. My hormones are weather and I’m a sailor peaking out from below deck wondering what the heck I’m in for each day. I can’t ‘workout’ like I used to. It hurts. And it’s exhausting. And I don’t want to. I can’t pig out like I used to. It hurts. And it’s exhausting. And I don’t want to. These feelings and experiences are very new, very raw, and I need help figuring out what the new ‘feel better’ means and how to achieve it.

That means lots of reading for research. That means diet change. That means lots more water intake and lots more pee breaks. That means lots more detox and so.much.journal writing.

Inside, I feel like I’m 12. Wait, 10. Nope…6. Gah. I don’t feel my ‘age’, but my body is its age and it’s changing and I’m beginning to accept it. But in the accepting it – there is much confusion because nearly every new thing I’m doing feels un-natural. It goes against my up-to-this-point-in-my-life beliefs and abilities that are cell-deep in me. But that’s how deep the change is! And so there’s no escaping it.

“The negative feelings are real, and we may need to grieve the loss of the body we have always had…there are solutions that can nourish your mind and body as you make this sacred transition into the next season of femininity…”

DailyOM

Confusion, I’ve learned, is welcome. And as I shift my food choices, cleanse with water, give my body gentle exercise and long sleeps, I’m learning to feel what it feels like in a body that…wait for it…I don’t want to change…that I love. I’ve never felt this before. And it is scary and wild and confusing…and yes, I am grieving the years of harsh and hardcore treatment, sugar-attacks and negativity that I’ve put myself through.

This takes time and energy and, for me, lots of writing. I’m embarrassed about how I’ve treated myself, and I want to not feel that…or feel it, and learn to let it go.

And, I want to write about it. I want to write poetry and essays, but my ‘voice’ is playing hide and seek. I’m seeking! I’m seeking! And in the seeking I am overwhelmed by fears, new and old, and confusion, stormy and smooth, and, thank goodness, love.

The State of Things in PhotosThe messy dining room table/desk…

Each day my desk looks like this. Each night, I clean it up. I have piles and notebooks and file folders and pencil cases. There is always the great explosion of things to do and the great clean-up of things completed…and lists about what to do next. This is one of the reasons why blogging every day is hard for me. I’m having a hard time fitting in even a haiku on the blog…! But I’m taking the pressure off myself. As I embrace my body changes, complete big projects/grant applications, continue to work with writers…time will open up as she does and I’ll figure out how to speak through my blog again.

This much-loved book, gifted to me from a co-worker! Thank you, Jordan!

Poetry continues to inspire me. Old. New. Serious. Humorous. Doesn’t matter. It’s in my life and it’s medicine.

Sweet Pages, spread eagle!

Since the holidays, I’ve been walking the dogs. I have to walk one at a time because I’m not strong enough to walk them together…and quite frankly, they don’t love it because they each want to take the lead! But I can tell you that dog therapy is legit. I spend loads of time rubbing bellies, smooching snouts, brushing bums. Pages and Oscar are my familiars, and their love is unconditional and it’s the.best.

Some poetry…

February YIN Link & Poems

February Yin Writing Link

We’re continuing to meet and write in the wee morning hours! Join us!

Vanessa Shields is inviting you to a scheduled Zoom meeting.

Topic: FEBRUARY YIN WRITING
Time: 6am

Join Zoom Meeting
https://us02web.zoom.us/j/89689955648?pwd=VW8rdWp1SlNxQXMzb2hkNjV3YXJFUT09

Meeting ID: 896 8995 5648
Passcode: 999479
One tap mobile
+16475580588,,89689955648#,,,,999479# Canada +17789072071,,89689955648#,,,,999479# Canada

Prompts…into poetry…and journal writing

Friends, I’ve been deep in my journal writing…writing poetry…reading and…thinking. I’ve had some pretty intense epiphanies over the last week and a bit. Rolling with big realizations and how to make some changes. And so, the pressure I was putting on myself to write every day…I had to let it go. Funnily enough, I’ve been writing every day! A lot! But, just not blogging it. Not yet. It feels weird…sometimes wrong to not be posting each day. Like I’m breaking some unspoken rule…but the truth is I need (want) a break from the everyday of posting. Maybe I’ll get back to it. I don’t know, but for now, I’m listening to the voice that’s saying, don’t worry about it.

I would love to share some poems with you though. I did a workshop through the League of Canadian Poets over the weekend. It was about spontaneous poetry – a similar on-the-spot poetry exchange like Poetry on Demand. It was very cool to meet/see/write with other poets taking on the same challenge. Here are the poems I wrote ‘spontaneously’. Thank you to the league and to Kate Marshall Flaherty for leading a fine, fun workshop!

haibun for Alison

flow
her flow is
vibrant windstorm
gusty with haiku
fever
mish-mash heat
thrumming with
​ new-found lands
40
now – years in ​
​ the language of the sea
poetry​
the shade of blush
​ in her cheeks

long hair sweeps her smile
language ink blooming – bright
hear her wisdom pitch​

seeds

this man i love
hoed pulled & planted
made love with the dirt
& i watched & it was a
bountiful jardin a trois​

time measures in seeds
forty different kinds now
deep in the yard beside
our concrete strength

we reap the harvest
in this growing story

cucumbers carrots tomatoes lettuce
a bouquet of love

love stones

these stones
miles in length
we lift with inky fingers
onto shoulders muscled with friendship

the kind of friendship that makes maps
& we toss & drop & place these stones
into homes grouted with love
love y’all

these stones
miles in length
honoured with wedding bless
& we heave & heap & heal
together

these stones
we paint with spectrums of love

love y’all

And um, Poet Laureate…

I’m applying to be Windsor’s next poet laureate! The application is due February 4th, so I’m gathering letters of support and finalizing the rest of the application. I am nervous, excited and…what’s the word…windy on the inside, blowing back and forth with emotions about the whole thang. This is another reason why I’ve been quiet on the blogfront. So, thank you for your patience! Thank you to those who have sent *INCREDIBLE* letters. I am so grateful and utterly overflowing with love for our community of writers, poets, readers, creatives…Thank you!

Prompt 25 – An Epiphany

I went to look up the word epiphany instead, searched ‘bob hicok’, read poetry about no meaning on meaning only meaning somehow yes and maiming and jokes about bars and don’t answer when someone says: knock knock. The epiphany is here in the gooey blood seeping under the saran wrap on my forearms. The tattoos are whispering over my yelling skin. I adore the subtle pain. There is so much meaning in the black ink in the choice for permanence in the art on my arms. The tattoo artist told me someone told him he had no value as an artist. I told him that person is wrong and fu*k him. And fu*k that. Humans can’t exist without art. Especially art that maims a soul just to get it out of the body. Bleeding is necessary for creativity. Just ask anyone who has a body. Yes, in the epiphany is a welcoming choice that is long overdue – years of shadowing and now the shadow steps into itself and says: it doesn’t matter if only you understand me. We’re in this together. We always have been.

magic tattoo because of all the magicnew thimble in honour of my nonnathese three words because – these three words!

Tattoo artist James Wood at Advanced Tattoo & Piercing Thank you, James! I loved our conversation!

Thank you, Dorothy for connecting me to Bob Hicok’s poetry. Yay!

Prompt 24 – Owl – Ekphrastic writing & YIN link

Image: RS003
Illustrator: Madame Treacle
Genre: Ekphrastic writing
Prompt from Charis Cotter

RS003 by Madame Treacle

The Prince of Owls had some regrets.

It has come to my attention that on this sixth day of the Year of Our Owl, Feather-Father Chordon Aves, I, your humble sky servant, Prince Cervantes Owlton the fourth, have failed you as your leader in our flight against the Giant Pears.

It is true that my thick feathers and strong claws I believed were effective enough to remove said Giant Pears and deposit them gently in our tree-centre for this weekend’s Owls-of-the-Forest-Unite-Festival (OFUF), but indeed, they were not. Therefore, we have no delicious pears on which to feast.

I am terribly glum at this reality. I should have requested help. Instead, I spent my time gluing garnets on this silly crown hoping the bedazzle would pull your attention from the sad fact that we will have no Giant Pears to eat. Is it working? No, of course. Indeed. Ah-hem.

As a sign of my utter failure, I would like to ask, whooo? I repeat, whoooo, has a solution to our food problem?

Some words on the words…

So, I’m just about a month in doing 15 minute writing prompts for my new year daily writing challenge. It is much harder than writing a poem a day. I’m a bit shocked at this reality! But, I’m not sure it’s the style of writing that’s really the challenge. I think it is the challenge of doing this ‘one creative thing’ every day. Or…maybe it’s both! I mean, I’m writing way more words. When I create the little post image, there are more words there too…I feel like it’s a lot of reading for y’all…and my brain wants me to straight up stop. !

I won’t, but I will go with the flow of my creativity. What that means is, I may not write for the full 15 minutes. If I feel like I’ve written enough, and that’s before the 15 minutes is up, so be it. If I feel like I just want to write a poem, I’m gonna write a poem. If I want to write to an image (ekphrastic), like I did today (thank you, Charis!), I will. If I don’t want to use a prompt at all, but write about whatever – that’s what I’ll do. Is that, um, okay? We’ll see what comes of this daily sharing.

Thank you for your patience. Let’s keep this writing adventure thriving, shall we?

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Prompt 23 – The Chrysalids by John Wyndham & Literature Clock

Book: The Chrysalids
Author: John Wyndham
Genre: Science Fiction

Prompt from the husband.

“Knowing makes all the difference… It’s the difference between just trying to keep alive, and having something to live for.”

I had something to live for. It was her. It had always been her. The truth of it was simple, smooth. As sure as suns and moons and stars – their brilliant continuity. Loving her made all the difference. Loving her made breathing less painful. I wish I could tell you that loving her took all my pain away, but I can’t. That part is not her fault. She was and will forever be, fault-less.
Pain is a language all its own, and love only knows so many dialects. Though I did my best to translate, to study, to speak with all the love I could find, hold, keep…it wasn’t enough or right. This also wasn’t her fault.
I chose to love her though I’ll tell you over and over it wasn’t a choice at all, but after the initial electric shock, I chose it. I chose love. I chose to love her. I was scared, though what is fear but love’s tender shadow simply desiring its own light?
What would you do if I told you I was love’s shadow? Would you believe me?
What would you do if I told you I was fear…tender, dark…utterly misunderstood…

It is true. I am on trial now. I am on trial for loving love too hard. So hard I did everything I could to tear away from her. So I could step around, look her in her stunning eyes. Tell her I’d been there all along…even in the brightest brights and darkest darks.

It took more time than most can imagine. But I could imagine it. I did. I lived through millennia – and then.

You won’t believe what happened. No one has so far. But it is true, what I am telling you. Despite the sentence that I am facing – it is worth it for facing her.

Literature Clock

Thank you to Jane Friedman for sharing this ultimate literature lover’s website: Literature Clock. It gives a quote from a book that includes the exact minute when you click on the site. It’s simple and incredible. I always have it open on my laptop now.

Prompt 22 – How to Train Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell

Book: How To Train Your Dragon
Author: Cressida Cowell
Genre: Middle-grade fantasy

Prompt book chosen by Jett.

“So…you will walk quietly through the cave and each boy will steal one sleeping dragon.”

I closed Hattie’s wide open mouth by pushing up her bottom jaw up with my hand while Mr. Bobchin turned and faced the opening of the cave.
A roll of thunder taunted us from above.
“We can do this,” I whispered to Hattie through my side mouth.
She started to lower, her knees trembling with fear. I grabbed her by her thick leather sword belt to help her stay standing.
“Nope,” she breathed out. “This is not happening.”
Mr. Bobchin’s right shoulder lifted with a twitch. He cocked his head to the right. That was not a good sign. We all knew he had eyes in the back of his head, we just hadn’t seen them yet. But, he’d definitely seen Hattie nearly fall. Maybe even seen me close her mouth.
“Missus Persee, would you like to demonstrate to the rest of the group, how exactly one walks quietly into a cave and steals a sleeping dragon?” As he spoke, he turned, his face red with frustration, his eyes thinning into slits.
I couldn’t hold Hattie up with Mr. Bobchin’s beady eyes daggering at me. I had to let go of her belt. As soon as I did, she dropped to her knees, and covered her face. She shook her head vehemently.
A Shaker behind us let out a chuckle. I looked back to see who it was. I’d introduce him to my fist after.
Mr. Bobchin smiled, the curve of his lips reaching for his ears. “What happens to the stewdent whose Fear takes his Power?”
“Oh-oh! Me!” Billiem Bonham waved his hand wildly beside me. I threw an elbow between his ribs.
“Bonham?” asked Mr. Bobchin like he didn’t know the answer.
“Sir, well, sir, said person whose fear takes her power has to give up her sword, sir,” Billiem announced proudly. He wrapped his hand around the handle of his sword like he’d never let fear take him over and his sword get taken.
“That’s right,” Mr. Bobchin said, looking at Hattie who was a heap on the ground, sobbing as quietly as she could. Bobchin shook his head, his cheek curling in disgust. “There’s no crying in dragon stealing!” he said, leaning down to meet Hattie’s face.
“Stand up Hatchwin. Stand up right this instant,” said Bobchin.
Hattie sniffled, and finally took her hands from her face. “I will never surrender my sword,” she said, a crackle in her voice.

Don’t let him see you’re a girl! I thought, panicking. I needed to create a diversion. If Hattie’s true identity was discovered, the consequences would be dire, but what’s worse, our school would lose its fiercest dragon tamer.

Prompt 21 – Desert Kill Switch by Mark Bacon

Book: Desert Kill Switch
Author: Mark Bacon
Genre: Mystery/Thriller

Prompt chosen by Mark Bacon, as per my request!

The long carving knife, covered in blood and cake, lay next to the body.

H picked it up and licked it. Held the oozy liquid of blood and sugary buttercream on his tongue in a quiet ecstasy before he swallowed. He looked down at the limp, slashed body of his latest victim. Killing people was just too easy. And to get cake as part of his prize? There was literally cake and icing on his luck.

He leaned his head to the right then to the left, cracking the bones in his neck before he knelt down and used the knife to cut a deep gash in the dead man’s throat. This was his favourite part of his murders – sucking blood out of a body without a pulse. Somehow the blood fattened as it cooled and lost its mobility. It was like icing! Thick and delicious. H shoved his open mouth over the wound and closed his eyes as the warm blood filled his mouth.

Gretta’s eyes were bursting with tears, but she could not close them. She was pressing her palms over her mouth so hard, she could feel her inner cheek pushing into her teeth. She tasted blood and gagged, then shoved her face into a thick winter coat to cover the sound. The crack in the closet door she was hiding in was large enough to offer her a front row seat to the murder unfolding in the conference room of the office space she worked in. This was her second day on the job. Her first task was to prepare a birthday party for the dead man on the floor. His name was Baresh, and she only knew that because she had to tell the grocery store baker the name to put on the cake.

She swallowed down warm chunks of cake. Less than an hour ago, she and several others had gathered in the conference room, and sang an out-of-tune ‘happy birthday’ to Baresh who was turning 37 years old that very day. Gretta had been proud of what she’d been able to pull together for the short-notice party. She’d found a box labeled ‘lost & found’ in the very closet she was hiding in, but a bit of shiny silver had caught her eye. She’d pulled the box off the shelf and looked inside, giddy when she’d realized it was full of party supplies. Some so old and cracked she had to cut and paste to make them look presentable. A higher-up had given her a nod of approval as she’d shoved a plastic forkful of grocery slab cake into her mouth. Her iridescent purple lipstick had left a thick line on the white plastic, Gretta had noticed. She’d noticed because she’d forgotten to reapply her own lipstick before the party, and she’d chided herself for not paying more attention to how she looked. Wasn’t this job a new start? A new identity?

Bacon and I…

Here is the rest of the paragraph to give context to the line I chose from what Mark sent me. This way, you’ll discover a piece of Desert Kill Switch, love it, and promptly purchase a copy of the book (paper or e, for your convenience – link at the top!).

“The Rockin’ Summer Days staff had obviously been celebrating the event’s twentieth year. A large sheet cake covered in white frosting sat on a broad work table.  Enough of the cake had been eaten so the inscription, in red icing, now read “Happy Birthday Rockin’ Su.”  The knife used to cut up the cake had also been used to cut up Al Busick.  He lay sprawled on his back across the table next to the cake, blood from several stab wounds covering his stomach and chest.  Someone had smeared frosting over Busick’s face creating a smiling clown’s expression. Kate shuddered. The long carving knife, covered in blood and cake, lay next to the body. Although Busick had lost more blood than a rare prime rib, Kate automatically felt for a pulse—in vain.  Busick’s skin felt warm. As she realized this, Kate started to gag.” Desert Kill Switch, Book Two in The Nostalgia City Mysteries.

Mark and I have been writing friends for nearly ten years (is that right, Mark?!). We met online connected by flash fiction. We held a flash fiction contest via my blog, and since then, we’ve been writing emails and letters, celebrating each other’s writing publications and successes, and becoming great pals (is this right, Mark?!). In any case, I asked Mark to give me a prompt line, and he did. Because he’s a giving kinda guy. Thank you, Mark!