Licking Ice Cubes After They Melt

This is one of my Inktober 2022 favorites and it started as just a few marks on paper. I had no idea where it was going and I let the page and the pen guide me. Step by step. Left that pesky inner critic behind and the imposter syndrome crier in the drawer. Let this being and her words evolve with each stroke of the pen and then, she said, I need a poem.

Smelling the flowers in

mid-October when its

unseasonably warm, is

like licking an ice cube

after it's melted.

Inktober 2022, a few pieces

 This year I decided - on a whim - to participate in Inktober. I've seen artist friends tag some of their drawings "inktober," but didn't look beyond that. And some of my writer-visual artist friends and acquaintances. But it has not been anything I've considered for myself or had even looked into.

I decided that this year, with the now almost three years of continuous comics workshops I've been doing, and that I published a haiku comics chapbook, maybe this was my year to join. So I did. I decided on day two, so I made two drawings. Day three another drawing. Then I also decided to start doing daily writing because ...tada... November is just around the corner and - yes, I'll be doing that again. It's been a while since I've written every day, so I thought that maybe drawing as a warmup for NaNoWriMo wasn't quite enough.

On about, oh, day five or six, I noticed someone mention an Inktober prompt.

Prompt? There are prompts for Inktober?!

Yes, indeed. An Instagram search - because isn't Inktober kind of made for Instagram - found an "offical Inktober prompts" list, as well as many variations. Some individual prompts, it seemed, some group prompts. Which made me feel better, because I wasn't using prompts, I was just drawing.

Now, I'm still pantsing my Inktober drawings, but of course! But one day I was stuck in the grief mud, so I opened my writing Instagram account, where I saved as a favorite the Inktober prompts story I'd posted, and took that day's prompt from the "official" list and drew. It worked!

Here is a sampling of my Inktober drawings. I've also noticed that I'm starting to add more words into most of my drawings. No surprise. A writer writes, right?

In the heart of the city
there is a soul
still beating out
a
rhythm.
Do you hear her?

Transition: final appointment with my longtime naturopath and acupuncturist,
who is retiring at the end of the month. 

Introducing
Franz, the portable outhouse cleaner, who likes his job because it gives him reason to be a martyr;
 Mavis, a siren of the soliloquies, a gentle soul sent to give a message to Franz;
and The River People, who are in need of a helping hand and not another rando saint.

Today, this poem

Today I was reading through The Flavor of Unity: Post-Election Poems, by Kim Stafford, again.


This poem, today, yes. The children.




Champion the Enemy's Need
by Kim Stafford

Ask about your enemy’s wounds and scars.
Seek his hidden cause of trouble.
Feed your enemy’s children.
Learn their word for home.
Repair their well.
Learn their sorrow's history.
Trace their lineage of the good.
Ask them for a song.
Make tea. Break bread.

photo from Guifford County Partnership for Children

Gut Punch

[This is new and raw.]

Gut Punch
by DS Hearn

The decision now done I wonder what the next blow will be. Not when. Because the when is tomorrow, unless it has already happened today and I haven't seen it. I've been working.

The punch to the gut of the confirmation that this is what will be in the government seats. The punch to the gut that people's rights will be violated; the proof is already in the works, each day more and more. And that They don't care.

That this country will be - or already is from several articles and comics I've seen - not trusted, not respected, mocked.

This is not about losing the vote or that the other dominant group members are in the White House.  It is not about the "R" and the "D" of this country.

This is about: The loss of rights. The loss of dignity. The loss of hope (temporarily). The trickery and lies and manipulations which led to the claim of "the win," many of which have already been proven a sham, a ruse, a mask to gain support then abandoned. The lack of knowledge and experience already witnessed.

This is about
people
land the earth
water air
the meaning of respect
meaning
going backwards
losing ground
slipping into chaos
struggling to breathe

breath
heartbeat
step by step
not giving in not giving up

giving to each other not being divided uniting for the earth for people

dipping into the waves of sorrow and loss
dipping into the waves of strength and resistance
dipping up for air
dipping down for rest and recovery
dipping to rise again buoyant

and saying
No.

Little Me Limerick

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I don't know what age I was when I wrote this limerick. Childhood poetry is funny.

Thank you to my sister who recovered it for me.

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8 * 3 * 6

I wasn't sure where my original title, "Loves and Losses and Missing Time," was leading, but it jumped up there so I went with it.

What I intended to write as I looked from my last post to now was about lost time. Not lost time, but time filled with things to do. With passions and permission, with commitments to others and to myself, with responsibilities and with new ideas and ideas waiting to come to fruition.

 It had been two weeks since I'd written here about my writing.

My writing is still moving forward.

I have a new thing I'm doing with setting some minimum goals. One is a daily intention. One is a weekly goal, which I can divide up any way I choose or can; that goal I have exceeded every week since I started tracking it.

The third thing I'm tracking (with a goal) is how much I write in a week. Although I've found with writing, that when I'm in the final week of preparation for a play, I don't write. Or I don't write much. So while I have set a weekly goal for writing, I have also discovered that the number within a week needs to be flexible and the time carries over. So that my weekly writing goal is actually an "even it out goal" with the intent of making up missed time within one to two weeks of the "lost time."

So far, so good.

Last week the only writing I did were a few final edits to a piece I submitted for the writing workshop coming up in two weeks. It wasn't a zero writing week but it was below my hoped-for minimum. But last week I had to attend a run through for an April play, prepare for a sign through for the play I'm interpreting this week, and I was preparing to interpret a poetry recitation competition. So my linguistic brain was in high demand, as was my time due to rehearsal and research and preparation.

This week I do have a writing date for two hours, which I will keep, Even if I'm writing about how I don't have time to write, I will write. I will try very hard to not write on that topic. But I will write. For two hours.

Otherwise this week I am interpreting a play on Thursday (for which I feel mostly ready, although I want to do a little more work on the hip hop song and digital detox acoustic piece) - and I'm preparing to interpret the state championship poetry recitation finals.

Writing. Is happening. Along with theater and the annual poetry event.

Response, a poem

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Response

by Dot.

I am not ignoring what is happening.
In Paris.
In Beirut.
In Kenya.
In other places where it happens every day.
In places which are not in a foreign country.
In places where things just as heinous happen and no one/very few outside of the circle affected know.
In homes and schools and fields and forests and cities and towns and on the road.
In places hidden and public.
I am listening.
I am watching.
I am reading.
Some of my feelings don't have words and I don't have an answer except to live each day as if it matters and treat each person as if they matter and to know that - what?
What do I know?
Touch heart. Heart connection.
soul beating breath

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Threshold

Synchronous Moment: Writing in Our Time

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Writing in Modern Times? In Our Time? In the Age of _________, fill in the blank. I couldn't think of a better way to say it so I went with what I had.

This is one of those times when different aspects of my life are coming together with the same or a similar message. Meaning, in my opinion, pay attention.

I am now in week six of the seven weeks IWP online MOOC poetry class. The topics have been interesting and, while I am still not fond of the online classroom platform they've chosen for this round, it is still working. I just ignore what doesn't work and keep to my workarounds, and respond as I have been and read much more than I write on the boards - and it's fine.

Last week's IWP topic didn't resonate with me. It felt like a "duh" and I didn't get as much from it. I think some of that was because it had to do with "turns" in poetry and I think, as primarily a fiction and creative non-fiction writer, "turns" are commonplace in the stories. It was interesting to read about the different styles of turns in poetry, with some excellent examples and exposure to new poets, but it didn't spur me to write more poetry. And I will admit that the activity and busy-ness of the week also interfered with me jumping into it as heavily as I have been; so there is probably something to that as, well.

But this week's topic is inspiring. And right up my writing alley. And one of the video lectures mentions several of my favorite poets; the other video lecture talks about some of my favorite ideas and questions. I fell into this week's topic quickly and easily.

One focus of this week on the place of "anger" in poetry. "Anger" is a very general term - specifically they talk about politics and the personal. One of the "instructors" for this week put the question out on the boards if poetry can just be cathartic without leading toward a solution. It was a question to generate conversation and I think it will; it is still early in the week.

Another focus is on writing in the current times and all that goes with it - short and fast, hashtags, and the internet and tweets and posts; brevity. How does this affect us as poets, as readers? How do we physically experience our world and our work, our writing and our reading, with these new things. What does it mean to - or do we - embody this life with all of these things? When a "date" might be online and not in person. When we text or tweet or Skype rather than calling on the phone or stopping by or meeting in person in a coffee shop? Questions ... no answers.

Then I saw an interview with Charles Baxter for Tin House. And the section quoted reminds me of the topics and lectures and discussions this week in the MOOC. Which is what led to this piece of writing, although it took me this long to get to the point. Click through to read the whole interview, if you have a couple of minutes; if not, come back later and check it out.

Questions about time, our times, and writing.

"Everything now is supposed to go fast; everything is supposed to be so efficient. Since when was fiction supposed to submit to time-and-motion studies? Impatience and distraction are our great enemies and must be conquered somehow. We all know that some of our most profound moments happen with a kind of languor: pleasure and love and sorrow and prayer take their own sweet time." -- Charles Baxter, in conversation with Susan Tacent

Read the whole piece by clicking here: Urgency and Momentum: An Interview with Charles Baxter.

graphic from Tin House link for the Baxter interview

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MOOC Poetry Class Update

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I am participating in an online poetry class, a MOOC (Massive Open Online Courses) offered by The University of Iowa International Writing Program. There are thousands of participants from around the world. The online platform is clunky and can be overwhelming. But I have developed a system to decrease the technology frustrations so that I can enjoy the amazing videos from skilled poets and teachers, learn about new forms, practice writing more poetry in sometimes new or different ways. The content each week is wonderful. Oh, and it's free.

We are in week four now and I haven't shared anything I've written. I decided it's time to put up one of my poems. It's interesting that I chose this one because this week's focus is meter and form. I tend to write free verse poetry, but I do enjoy experimenting with structure and am often happily surprised at the results. 

This poem is written with the Pantoum structure. This is a form I had not heard of before this course, which is one reason I chose this form. 

Working the Night Shift 

a pantoum

by Dot Hearn 

  

the look of a face at sunset 

when light switches form,  

the trees pull up roots, 

and life, as we know it, ends. 

  

when light switches form,  

inverting shadows, highlights, thought 

and life as we sense it begins. 

we prepare for vision and insight. 

  

inverting shadows and highlights, through 

closed eyelids and flickering minds, 

we prepare for vision and insight. 

the rocks float and rivers rumble. 

  

closed eyelids and blinking minds, 

the bodies wander familiar strange roads 

as rocks float and rivers rumble, remembering 

the look of a face at sunset.

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Philip Glass - NPR Interview

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The day before the first interpreted performance of "Cyrano," I finished Philip Glass' memoir, "Words Without Music." It was a pleasure to read about his process, the challenges he didn't let keep him from pursuing what he knew was his path, and the amazing other musicians, artists, theatre people he encountered and worked with and studied with along the way. Who influenced his music and his development; how he thinks.

He was interviewed on NPR and you can listen to it from the website: "The World Music Education of Philip Glass." There is a transcript available if the audio is not accessible.

I'm taking an online poetry class right now, and this week one discussion thread is about inspiration (it's more complicated than that - but the basic premise of this particular discussion is about what inspires us as poets). For me, Philip Glass' music can be an inspiration for writing poetry; sometimes other types of writing, as well - but when I listen to his music, poetry is what tends to come out, or prose written in a more poetic style.

Yes, I am still a Philip Glass fan.

Poetry on my Mind

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It is that time of year, again : Poetry Out Loud. The regional competitions were held last weekend and each region is sending the top three participants to the state finals competition next week.

So I have a lot of poems on my mind.

I have no complaints about my very busy schedule, which is filled with poetry and theater on top of the other word work I do. It is work and it is creativity and language, all rolled up together.

True, not as much of my own original writing is happening at the moment, but that will change. I am still working more at the editing and revising level of my own writing. I also wrote some ideas and a basic outline - *gasp* - of an idea for a play.

Poetry is at the top of my list right now as I am working on translations of the poems.

So I decided to share a video of one of the poems I am working on. Not all of the poems are this reality based; some of the ones we are working on are much more abstract or "poetic" with many layers of meaning. "Very Large Moth" by Craig Arnold is pretty straightforward, and it still carries a message.

No, this guy is not competing in Poetry Out Loud. But this poem will make an appearance.


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Poetry Quote

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"Poetry isn't a profession, it's a way of life. It's an empty basket; you put your life into it and make something out of that."

-  Mary Oliver               

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Submissions are open at Calyx - Flash Fiction contest & Poetry contest

     

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Reading & Writing & Shakepeare

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The interpreted performance of Othello was last Thursday. And we will be interpreting it again next Thursday at the matinee. But the first performance is the one which requires hours and hours of preparation - and even more so for Shakespeare. The second interpreted performance requires a refresher and perhaps a few changes based on the first one - but all of the time goes into preparing to do it the first time.

It went really well and I'm looking forward to the second interpreted performance, which will have a large number of D/deaf/Hard of Hearing audience members. Which always makes it more fun.

Even with working on Shakespeare, I have been writing every day. Writing at least one poem every day, and sometimes working on a short story as well. I like these creatively fruitful times. And I hope they will last - and I feel there is a chance this river of creative flow will continue, since I have maintained it during this heavy show preparation period. 

I have also done four floats for the Float On Writers' Program this month, which required that I write and submit something which came from the float, within 24 hours. This has been an interesting process as I have not floated on a weekly basis before. I have done some writing after floating, but not at this level. It has been interesting to see what has come out of my floats onto the page. 

It is not surprising that water has been involved in all of my float writings. The first two were essays about my float experience, both with some abstraction or surrealism. The third piece came out as a poem. Again, that probably isn't a surprise since I have been writing a poem each day since April 1st. But I didn't intend to write a poem and tried to steer it towards prose, but it wouldn't budge. It was a poem and wanted to stay that way. Then my final piece was a hybrid prose + poem and it was much more abstract than the earlier three pieces. I was also able to take the notes I made immediately after my float and turn them into my poem for today.

My creative energy is also being fueled by reading. Which is as it should be and, I know, is also not surprising. I am reading some good books right now, so I thought I would list them as well. I am still reading them - but from what I've read so far, I recommend them. 

"Contents May Have Shifted" by Pam Houston (fiction)

"Three Uses of the Knife: On the Nature and Purpose of Drama" by David Mamet (writing, nonfiction)

"This Won't Take But a Minute, Honey" by Steve Almond (stories & essays)

"Show Your Work" by Austin Kleon (creativity, nonfiction)

"The Red Road" by Denise Mina (crime/mystery novel - I'm listening to the audiobook while I drive)

I realize I haven't written about the writing workshop weekend in Port Townsend a couple of weeks ago, either. Rather than glossing over it and not giving it the space and time it deserves, I will just say that it was an amazing weekend with Lidia Yuknavitch and Pam Houston, and eleven other writers. It was work the cramp on my schedule and I have another insight for the M-book which is going to make a significant difference. I will write more about all of this later.

Writing is happening. Interpreting work is happening. Theatre is happening. 

Life is good.

Oh, and we saw Cirque du Soleil's "Totem" today and it was fabulous. And inspiring in color, sound, and seeing what the human body is capable of doing.

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Progress!

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I have been writing every day. At least once every day. And I do mean creatively writing; not just responding to emails, business correspondence, taking notes, etc. Really writing.

In case I haven't mentioned it (I know, I know - I've said it; more than once) I am participating in NaPoWriMo - National Poetry Writing Month. I mean, it is National Poetry Month, so why not join in the fun and create some? Right?

All of my daily poems are being posted over on The Writing Vein Playground. In their mostly first draft states. A few have had some minor edits; some are right out of my brain/heart-hand connection. One of the poems - from Friday 4/18 - is an excerpt of a longer piece. It was created after the third of my four "writing floats" - as a part of the Writers' Program in which I'm participating at Float On. Since the piece was written for Float On, for potential use in an anthology in the future, I posted only one stanza and left the piece in its entirety unpublished.

I still have my Tuesday morning writing jams with Rooze. We are trying a new location this coming week, as the place where we've been meeting has taken to turning up the volume on their music and there seems to be more conversation (amongst and from the staff; over the music). And it is too loud and distracting for writing. We will continue to meet and write - just changing the venue.

It has been a bit of a challenge to write a poem every day, continue the Tuesday writing, create another new piece of writing every week within 24 hours of my float - and to be in heavy preparation to interpret "Othello" next week. But I've done it. I am doing it. Perhaps proving to myself, again, that writing begets writing. Right? The more you write the easier it is to write and the writing comes easier and so it goes. For me in this moment, it feels pretty amazing that I am still doing all of this writing - and prepping for Shakespeare.
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"The Microsoft Windows of English Poetry"

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I clicked over to NaPoWriMo to get the daily prompt. Oh! A form! I'm doing well with writing in form for NaPoWriMo this year and this is a new form for me to play with.

Then I saw it - the title I used for today's post. It made me laugh out loud, so I had to share it here.

Today, I challenge you to write a poem in terza rima. This form was invented by Dante, and used in The Divine Comedy. It consists of three-line stanzas, with a “chained” rhyme scheme. The first stanza is ABA, the second is BCB, the third is CDC, and so on. No particular meter is necessary, but English poets have tended to default to iambic pentameter (iambic pentameter is like the Microsoft Windows of English poetry). One common way of ending a terza rima poem is with a single line standing on its own, rhyming with the middle line of the preceding three-line stanza. 

Now on to write my terza rima.
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Write a "Replacement" Poem

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This one from NaPoWriMo looks like fun!

I haven't written mine, yet. I will. But I have planted all of the spinach (two types), kale (two
types), onions, rainbow carrots, and tomatoes (one plant each of three types). And mowed the grassy areas (or should I say grass-like areas?).

Now I have to clean up so I can go watch Othello tonight! Carolyn and Rich saw it last week and Carolyn and I are going tonight. The three of us (Rich Hall, Carolyn Brockway, and I) will be interpreting Othello at Portland Center Stage on April 24th at 7:30 pm and May 1st at noon (the matinee may already be sold out).


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Here is the prompt - I am looking forward to getting my hands on it! Maybe over dinner before Othello.

Today’s (optional) prompt is a “replacement” poem. Pick a common noun for a physical thing, for example, “desk” or “hat” or “bear,” and then pick one for something intangible, like “love” or “memories” or “aspiration.” Then Google your tangible noun, and find some sentences using it. Now, replace that tangible noun in those sentences with your intangible noun, and use those sentences to create (or inspire) a poem. Here’s a little example that replaces the word “lemon,” in sentences from a Wikipedia article on lemons, with the word “sorrow.” 

Sorrow is a small evergreen tree native to Asia.
The origin of sorrow is a mystery.
The first substantial cultivation of sorrow in Europe
began in Genoa in the middle of the 15th century.
A halved sorrow dipped in salt or baking powder
is used to brighten copper cookware. One educational
science experiment involves attaching electrodes
to sorrow and using it as a battery.
Although very low power, several sorrows
can power a small digital watch. 

Goofy, but also interesting! It’s not quite a poem yet, but there might be a poem in there, waiting to come out. Happy writing!

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NaPoWriMo Prompt: Drinking Song

From NaPoWriMo : "Poets have been writing about love and wine, wine and love, since . . . well, since the time of Anacreon, a Greek poet who was rather partial to that subject matter. Anacreon developed a particular meter for his tipsy, lovey-dovey verse, but Anacreontics in English generally do away with meter-based constraints. Anacreontics might be described as a sort of high-falutin' drinking song. So today I challenge you to write about wine-and-love. Of course, you may have no love of wine yourself, in which case you might try an anti-Anacreontic poem."

Poetry Prompt for Today

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The NaPoWriMo (write a poem each day for 30 days) prompt for today is:

Today’s prompt is to write a love poem . . . but the object of the poem should be inanimate. You can write a love poem to your favorite pen, the teddy bear you had as a child (and maybe still have), or anything else, so long as it’s not alive!

Go!
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