A Page from My Journal

Literally that, plus a Solstice gathering

As I wrote in my recent re-introduction, my favorite part of writing is the process. The act of making something out of words or colors or movement is this beautiful, human pursuit that brings me joy.

Today is the first in an occasional series where I will show you something from my journal in even more drafty-draft form than the regular newsletter. Here’s today’s page:

First, there is a snippet of a poem:

I’ve looked into your eyes

that are the future of my eyes

and known deep in my heart

there is a limit to our understanding

and I have reached it.

Then what I think is something I said when I was talking with a friend about poetry and writing. (I find that these block-written sentences are almost always something I’ve said where the person I’m talking to says, “You should write that down.”):

Poetry is a microscope for experience.

Then a couple of notes on interactions that felt like future poems in the moment. These were things that happened while I was hanging out at Kentucky Governor’s School for the Arts with my Beloved:

In the hallway at GSA talking to Mimi in the field looking for the thing

Seated hip to hip on a backstage bench. Ten minutes after the last music student pulled her euphonium out the stage door

Now, I get to see if any of these pieces want to become another draft. Even if they never appear anywhere else, I am delighted to find these artifacts and remember the moments that inspired them. May you create and find your own artifacts, today and always.

This Solstice Eve, Saturday December 20, I invite you to join me, Theresa Kulikowski-Gillespie, Regina Beach, and generous organizer, Brianne Alcala for a virtual gathering to prime our bodies, minds, and hearts for the return of the light. This event features guided movement and meditation, time for creativity and connection, and the opportunity to soothe your heart in community.

And — it’s free! Just register in advance at this link. I hope to see you there.