Announcing... Fiber/Lyric and Summer & Fall Workshops... also, a poem prompt, the DIA, and some thoughts about publishing
Each new weaving feels like “the best yet!” or “my favorite ever!” This one, “Dream a Little Dream,” really might be. I had intended to do an all-white design, but then something happened and some darker neutrals crept in, and then I thought blue and that happened, and then a little pink came along. Though it did not end up how I imagined, I’m happy with how it turned out. Life lessons abound.
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Some 20 years ago, when I was first longing for a more tactile practice, a poem with literal substance, I wrote a poem called “Fabric/Lyric,” which is in Inside the Yellow Dress.
At that time, I was just beginning to read and write about/under the influence of Ann Hamilton, Louise Nevelson, Louise Bourgeois, Meret Oppenheim, and, especially Eva Hesse. I even traveled to Oberlin, Ohio, and to the Tate Modern in London to visit Hesse’s archives/exhibits. Although I liked Hesse’s drawings, it was her sculptures, especially the weird-ish ones such as “Untitled or Not Yet,” that really captured my attention.
Hesse’s works were lyric poems. I felt that. And, in turn, I wanted to write lyric poem that were sculptures, or at least sculptural.
I tried, with middling (to my mind) success.
Purr, my third book, has a series of poems inspired by Hesse, or, rather, by my feelings as I looked at her pieces. This one, “The Beauty Zone,” is the best and, also, one of my favorite poems that I have ever written.
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Years passed. I moved away from some of these interests, or else they morphed into other, (maybe) more practical applications.
My parents gave me a sewing machine (the Baby Lock — yes, that’s the brand — “Rachel” — that was the model, which my mom chose because my dad’s mother was named Rachel), and I made an apron, a little faux-furry collar, some placemats. Ho-hum. (I still do want to learn to sew, but more interesting pieces. I have fond memories of my mom gently spreading out the patterns and carefully pinning them in place.)
I tried needlework, but everything was cutesy, and anyway I kept losing count.
I thought about knitting, but wool makes me itchy — plus, more counting.
Good student-ness aside, I have never liked being told what to do. Endlessly referring back to a pattern, making a “wrong” stitch — ugh, such things could never hold my interest.
Then, in early 2023, I saw a post on Ye Olde Instgram about weaving. Ah! Yes! Just like in childhood! Memories of the potholder loom came rushing back. Did I really make a potholder or did I only watch longingly as my sisters used the loom? Sigh. I don’t know.
So I got my first loom, and then a bigger one, and then discovered round weaving, which feels, finally, like “my thing.” It’s structured and improvisational; it’s imperfect — and perfect that way.
So, not “Fabric/Lyric” but Fiber/Lyric — not quite what I thought I was looking for but what, happily, I have found, and what I’ll call my weavings if/when I sell them.
— all of which is to say: hobbies and interests and even obsessions are good; coming and going is good; coming back around is maybe best of all. You just never know when something you liked back then will return just when you’re better ready.
These days when I weave, I don’t think much of Hesse or those other famous artists, but I do often think of my mom who, as I have said before, introduced me to arts and crafts. Those were sweet times, which come back to me now.
My other announcement is about two upcoming workshops at the Glen Arbor Art Center (GAAC) in Glen Arbor, Michigan, on the gorgeous Leelanau Peninsula.
Plein Air Poetry will take place on Thursday, July 25, 10 am-noon, at the Thoreson Farm just outside the town of Glen Arbor. This generative workshop will, like Plein Air Painting workshops, focus on the natural world as a source of inspiration.
Ekphrastic Poetry: Writing Inspired by Art will take place on Saturday, September 28, 1-3 pm. This workshop will focus on writing poems that describe / respond to / arise from pieces in the GAAC’s show “Shrines and Altars.”
Both workshops will include readings and prompts, time to write, and an opportunity to share.
I hope you will consider joining me for one (or both) of these workshops. If you would like information about visiting Glen Arbor/the Leelanau Peninsula, please feel free to reach out.
I’m writing this post about art-making and art galleries while sitting in the Kresge Cafe at the very wonderful Detroit Institute of Arts.
If you find yourself in Detroit (and oh yes, I do mean that in more than one sense), I hope you’ll visit the DIA. It’s a truly great museum.
Ok, here’s a poem prompt, which I also just gave to my grad poets.
What are your hobbies?
What’s a hobby you wish you had?
What’s something irrational you believe in?
How are you helpful?
What’s your dream?
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Write about an ending, including all of the above as subject matter and/or as craft. For example, is knitting a hobby? How might a poem be knitted? Of what metaphoric yarn or yarns? Sometimes the impulse behind a poem (“I like to knit”) does not need to be named within the poem, but the skills and habits of a hobby can be transferred to poetry and prompt us to write differently and often better.
Last time, I meant to say something more about how difficult publishing can be. Certain parts do get easier over time (the basics, mostly: where and when and how to submit) but the behind-the-scenes mysteries (what/who gets chosen and why) remain murky. Publication is a crapshoot; I always feel lucky.
Way back in the day of paper submissions, I remember receiving rejections through the mail slot. I was an instructor at Oakland University then and living with my dad, and his comment was always the same: “One of your envelopes arrived.” Somber face. He was concerned on my behalf, which was so sweet, but also, rejection (or, better put, “thanks! but no!”) is the name of the game. It happens, and I expect it always will, much more often than not. A sense of humor is key.
I suppose The Truly Famous have a different experience, but Someone Famous (I can’t even recall who) once told me that with frequent/easy acceptance comes a new doubt: is the work really any good or is the success of old work prompting quick and thoughtless acceptance? Seems like a preferable problem, no?, but still, yeah, I get it: not great.
All of which is to say, and as everybody knows, nothing matches the feeling of writing deeply and well and being inside the experience. Doesn't pay the bills as we typically think of that, but it’s still the best.
So, wherever you are on your publishing path: keep going; take heart; there’s more to come.
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So, that’s the roundup this time. Thank you for reading. Hope you came across something that you need. Here’s a little spring, which is definitely something I’ve been needing.
