Mon. Oct. 6, 2025: Residency Days 2, 3, 4

Inspiration wall & reading corner. Photo by Devon Ellington

Monday, October 6, 2025

Full Moon

Pluto, Neptune, Saturn, Chiron, Uranus Retrograde

Usually I do an “intent for the week” post on Monday, but since I’m still in the studio, I wanted to share that experience.

I do, however, have the Community Tarot Reading for the Week posted here.

Once I got into the studio on Friday morning and did my meditation and 15-minute writing sessions, I transferred the files I needed to print to a separate USB and printed them off. I tried to use my regular USB, but the printer can’t read within folders. So I’m glad I tossed the extra into my cosmetic bag of flash drives, and had a clean one just for things to print.

I printed out our collaborative poem flyer, the programs, and the book price and tracking sheets. I wanted to get all of that done for the next day’s reading, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it at the last minute.

Then, I printed out pages of CONSEQUENCE and I WILL BE DIFFERENT, the two projects I wanted to work on first. I managed to get all that done by just a little after 8:30, which made me feel more settled.

Studio set up for writing and sewing. Photo by Devon Ellington

I read through CONSEQUENCE (I wrote about 30 pages, pre-residency). There are a couple of different ways I could go. I have to ponder in which direction I want to take it. I’m still not sure there’s enough there for a full-length, which is a problem, since I need something full-length to aim at the theatre who asked for one by their November 1 deadline. It makes me wonder if I should switch to CONNECTION, but I don’t want to leave CONSEQUENCE unfinished.

I re-read through what I have for the Milly section and the Amanda section of I WILL BE DIFFERENT. I think I might try to finish the Amanda section and start the Joy section. That leaves Alice (Milly’s mother, who actually has some great scenes in the Amanda section), and write the Mildred section last, even though it’s first in the chronology of the play, later this month/year.

I had to get a book review out, too, but got that out of the way mid-morning. It was not a genre I generally read, but I did the best I could with it. I put aside my personal feelings on the genre and focused on the strength of the writing and the way it engaged.

Played with some ideas in longhand, the start of explorations for the next sections of the plays.

Before I knew it, it was lunchtime!

I browsed in the gift shop for a few minutes, and then we all found each other, picked up our lunch boxes, and went outside to eat, because it was such a pretty day. We chatted and hung out. After lunch, I went back to the apartment to pick up a few things, like my toothbrush. I walked across the street carrying my toothbrush case and some makeup brushes and ran into an artist I knew who teased me about a very strange walk of shame!

Had trouble settling into the hour and change before the workshop meeting. It wasn’t enough time to get any substantial writing done, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to read. I spent some time on the acupressure mat, which was a good thing.

The workshop was a lot of fun, and the talent in that room makes me so happy and grateful to be a part of it. I did not bring anything to workshop on Friday. I listened and commented on other poets’ work. Even the dark poems have a lot of fierce joy in them, and I love that.

I headed home after on foot, stopping by Golden Bamboo to pick up Chinese food. I ran into a couple of people headed in for First Friday as I headed home. My mom was doing well. It’s good for her to have a few days of independence now and again. The cats were happy to see me, especially Bea.

After we ate, I headed back downtown to First Friday. I dashed down to FutureLabs, just in time for the talk by the two artists whose work is displayed this month. It’s really intriguing work. One artist made the paper she used by hand, and then painted on it – some of the paper was made from the garlic stems she’d help grow in the community garden, and on it, she created paintings about the process of planting the garden. The other artist does a series of robotic paintings. and he does them by painting with his fingers, rather than brushes. The gallery owner encouraged me to make an announcement about the reading at the library, which was so generous. She also really liked the proposal I sent about the upcoming shows, and will have my key to the gallery made up.

On the way back, I ran into some of my fellow poets, who were wandering around, enjoying First Friday. Yay! I love it when people who don’t live here can see how much fun we have.

Locals really want this to be a vibrant town, and love welcoming visitors.

Home baked the mini banana muffins. They came out pretty well, in spite the oven being inconsistent lately. I threw a few tee shirts into my bag, since it was supposed to get into the 80’s over the weekend, and I packed sweaters for the week. I checked the bags with the things we needed for the reading. I packed the muffins.

I actually slept really well (with Charlotte stretched out against my spine, purring). I woke up at 3, then dozed off again and had weird dreams, getting up around 5:30. While I’d hoped to be at the studio by 6, the world was not going to end if I was there by 7 instead.

I fed the cats, took my shower, risked putting curling cream in my hair (with the rising temperatures, it’s always a risk), made breakfast (scrambled eggs instead of the fried egg sandwich I usually do on residency mornings), packed up the food, said goodbye to the cats, and loaded the car. Tessa gave me instructions until the final time I shut the door.

I was in my studio a little before 7. It was lovely and quiet. I was still the first one there. I put up the suncatchers I brought from home. The pole beside my desk has two large screws in it, and I knew I would impale myself on them if I didn’t put something pretty there. I checked over the programs, paperwork, and ran through my own three poems for the reading. As weird as “The Grief Weather Tangerine” is, I really like it.

I had three false starts on poems. I hit a certain point on each and realized I’ve written this before, and better. Which is frustrating.

I did a little bit of research on the Queen Anne era and how prolific women playwrights were at the end of the 1600’s into the early 1700’s. According to the introduction of LOVE AND THUNDER, which is a collection of plays by women from the time (including Susanna Centlivre), “during the time of Anne, outright misogyny was tantamount to treason.” Wouldn’t it be nice if that was still the case, instead of the current encouragement of misogyny?

Headed up to the library, early of course. I wasn’t even the first one there! The third floor of the library was a wonderful space for us. It felt airy and intimate simultaneously. We set up the snack table and the book table and the chairs. Got the programs and the collective poem written for North Adams on the chairs. Chatted and generally got settled before the reading.

The reading went well, and was a lot of fun. There was snacking and chatting after. We put together a plate of goodies for the desk downstairs, cleared up, and were out by the time the library closed.

My fellow poets helped me load the car. I drove back down to the studio, resorted bags as to what was going over to the apartment for us to snack on for the rest of the residency, and what needed to go back home.

I paused to eat lunch with the collective. It was warm enough to eat outside again. In fact, I changed into a tee shirt because it was so hot. I had the roast beef for lunch, thinking it would be a good choice since I was feeling run down. But by mid-afternoon, I was reminded that red meat is rarely my friend.

Took things home, dropped off the car in the home lot, checked on my mom and the cats.

Walked back down to the studio, packed up what I needed for the apartment, and went over to the apartment to take a rest. I’ve been pushing hard on my deadlines since September with the ghostwriting client (last three projects on tighter than normal timelines), and the short story deadlines, and making sure things were set for the reading. Fatigue was to be expected.

I sort of dozed off and on for the rest of the afternoon. Read a little, dozed a little, read a little. There was a point where I realized how lovely and sunny it was in the livingroom, so I moved onto the couch there. Started playing with the idea for a poem that’s one thing on the surface with something else going on underneath.

My flatmate returned after the workshop, and we chatted for a bit and got ready for dinner.

Dinner was in Williamstown, at the Water Street Grill. I’d never eaten there before, but heard good things about it. I didn’t expect it to be as tavern-y as it was. It reminded me of Freight Yard Pub here in North Adams, in some respects. The food was good (I had fish tacos). The wine I chose was not a good choice. I should have gone with a beer. I’ll know next time!

Home, we all hung out together for a bit, my flatmate and I sat up talking a bit longer.

I set my alarm, in case I overslept, and I slept well. Weird dreams, which fled as soon as I woke up.

Woke up before the alarm, at my usual waking-up time. I tried to be quiet getting sorted out for the day, making breakfast, doing dishes. I swear one can hear that coffee maker all the way to Peoria.

And then, of course, I left my travel mug of coffee next to the sink!

I love getting into the studio early. I mean, there’s always someone working in one of the permanent studios, the museum’s security staff is lovely, and the space just feels safe and welcoming, especially without the public!

I did my morning meditation and my 15-minute writing session. Sunday was Day 45, halfway through the 90-day experiment. I played with my poem idea some more, and looked back at one of the ones I rejected yesterday, finding a kernel of potential in it. I played with it for a bit, and with another idea I had in the workshop on Friday.

I got several drafts of one poem done, well enough that I feel good about taking it to workshop. The title, which is what spurred the poem in the first place, no longer fits. The poem’s gone in a different direction.

I wandered the museum for a bit. I did my pilgrimage to the Boiler House and took some more photos. I might do a piece for one of the FutureLabs exhibits on striking images from the Boiler House that tell a story, three photos with three poems that can stand separately, but together add up to something more than the sum of its parts.

I sat with the Anselm Keifer pieces a bit, which are just so disturbing, I don’t know where to start to create poems or stories with them. They are so self-sufficient. What more can I say about them, except to explore the impact they have on me?

A fellow poet was in the exhibit, trying to write a poem, and said she’s been trying for the 10 years she’s been coming to the residency to do so, and hasn’t found the way in yet.

My camera was acting up, and I can’t figure out why. I sat at one of the picnic tables and my flatmate arrived. She was on her way to Boiler House, and then we wandered a bit, hoping to see Randi Malkin Steinberger’s “Archive of Lost Memories” which I loved so much when I saw it in summer. But it wasn’t open yet.

Back to the studio. I have wall space here, so I did some legs-up-the-wall pose to counter walking on concrete.

Picked up my lunch and ate it at the studio, reading Iris Woolcock’s book THE ROAD NORTH. Iris is one of my Playland Painters. She is the one who rented a room in the Greenwich Village brownstone owned by an Italian immigrant, his wife, their teenaged daughter and young son, with other lodgers being a young actor and two female journalists. Talk about a sitcom in the making! She lived in Vermont, not too far away from here, was a photographer and painter, even painting the official portrait of one of Vermont’s governors. Twice divorced, in 1947-48, she bought a trailer and drove the newly paved Alaska Highway with her cat. The entire trip was about 12,000 miles, since she began it in Florida.

The book is hilarious. She is the kind of person I would have loved to have as a friend. She’s such a good writer, with a wry sense of humor, a sense of adventure, and a clear-sightedness to the joys and foibles along the way.

Once I finished my lunch, I joined my fellow poets at the Fall Foliage Parade. Groups from all over the Berkshires are invited. There were many more organizations involved this year than in previous years, and it was so much fun. The marchers had fun, the audience had fun, it was a hot, sunny day. An all-around good time, and I’m really glad I went.

Charlotte fully believes the parade is in her honor, so I’m sure she had a lot to see, as they de-staged going past the apartment.

Back to the studio. Pinned up the fabric swatches, and got a solid idea of how I want to approach “Vast”, the piece I plan to create for the January show at FutureLabs. (Yes, that’s the one I hope doesn’t turn out to look like a giant potholder). None of the swatches I have will work for it, but at least I have more of an idea of what I’m looking for.

I set out the large “Human Compass” quilt top. I haven’t yet run a new bobbin, which I need to do before I pin and stitch.

I had hoped to do some stitching on Sunday, but went to the parade instead. I have no regrets.

The workshop was fun. As always, the poems ranged widely. I got lots of feedback on my poem, which I have to go through and figure out how to integrate. And there are options for titles now, far better than the ones I struggled to try and figure out.

We dropped off our stuff at the apartment, and then walked up to Nara Sushi for dinner. There were only four of us, out of the ten. The rest opted to stay home and eat leftovers from their previous meals I had rolls: Alaska roll (in honor of Iris) with salmon and avocado; yellowtail and scallion; eel and avocado. The wine was awful; I need to remember to only order beer there. But it was fun.

We wandered back. The moon over the city was gorgeous. Poets drifted over to the apartment to chat for a while. My flatmate and I stayed up and talked more, then headed off to bed

I woke up once in the night, but went straight back to sleep, and needed the alarm to hoist myself out of bed at 6. Still, I was at the studio before 7. Morning meditation, trying to get settled in my day. Once this is posted, I will do my 15-minute writing session, and then delve into the morning’s writing. I hope to do some stitching either late in the morning, or between lunch and the workshop session.

I can’t believe how fast the time is going!

Have a good one!