Arts

The Arts section of Orient Lodge

The Incomplete Garden

I sit
in the same chair
to write
each day.

Up,
to my left,
is a large window
I gaze out of
looking for inspiration.

It is dark
when I start.

As the day breaks
forms appear
out of the darkness.

The old swingset
my daughter used to play on;
starting to deteriorate
now that she’s gone.

The house across the street
where the Rabbi and his family lives,
with cars coming and going
full of mysterious stories
to be remembered and retold.

As the morning light grows
the incomplete garden
comes into focus;
the struggling lilac bush
from my late mother’s house,
the pile of rocks
with the yellow jacket’s nest
I once disturbed,
the bird feeder
left behind
by the previous owners,
and random plants
waiting
to be organized
into beauty.

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Rest, and Upcoming Events

I was hoping that the week after Easter would provide opportunities to rest and catch up a little. There are so many blog ideas in the back of my mind that I need to write, and so many upcoming events. Yet I’ve ended up with four meetings after work this week, some events I couldn’t make because of double booking, and Saturday I’m heading off to another event, while missing a second. As an aside, the weekend before Holy Week, I missed several events because of double or triple booking as well as because of my kidney stone.

On Saturday, I should be at a poetry group in the morning. Right now, I should be working on a poem for that group. Unfortunately, I’ll miss it, as well as their next big event. Instead, I’ll be going to Podcamp Western Mass. This is one of the longest continuously running Podcamps, and I think I’ve been to everyone, but I can’t remember for sure.

Podcamps are ‘unconferences’ originally around podcasting. These days, they tend to focus on all aspects of social media. As an unconference, there is no clear set agenda. People bring their ideas, their topics, then on a large grid on a wall they select rooms and times to get together to talk about the topics they are interested in. It is a great way for people to become more acquainted with social media, and there are often topics like Twitter 101. There are also topics that can get fairly esoteric. I try to go partly to learn new things and partly to give back to the community. I never know who will be there or what topics will catch my attention. Currently, I’m thinking about communities online as they related to learning, creativity, spirituality, and politics. I’d love to hear some of your thoughts about topics you’d be interested in at an unconference.

Then, in two weeks are two different conferences on my radar. One is the#WhatIMake conference. I’ve written a little bit about this earlier, and if I had more time I would dig out some quotes from Elizabeth Gilbert’s interview with Brene Brown which I mentioned yesterday, which are one of the best explanations about why #WhatIMake is such an important conference to go to.

Unfortunately there is another conference which is also very important to me taking place at the same time. Misisonal Voices is taking place at Virginia Theological Seminary.

A conversation about innovative ministries and missional communities in The Episcopal Church.

In my mind, this conference has a lot in common with Podcamp and WhatIMake, which very direct implications for the next few twists and turns on my spiritual journey. I am hoping it will be about creativity and innovation; about being a maker. I am hoping that I will arrive, not knowing what I will get out of it, and leaving surprised with new thoughts and ideas.

I’m thinking of listening to Podcasts on creativity on my drive down. I’ve been listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s podcasts during my commute this week. I’m considering staying at a hostel on my journey back, for several reasons.

But now, I’ve already spent more time than I really have writing this blog post and I need to get on with the rest of the day.

The Other

There is always an other in the room with us
whether we know it or not
whether or not we are alone.

There are those we know;
our mother,
an ex-girl friend
from long ago
who still haunts our memories
whom we’re never able to quite forget,
and that teacher
from that time in class
whom we’ve never have been able to forgive.

There are those we don’t know;
the unknown soldier in the faded photograph on the wall,
the homeless man that once slept in this room,
or the man
who died of AIDS
that no one remembers.

There are those we seek to know
Elijah, Buddha, Mohammed, Jesus.

Then, there is the other inside of us,
the other we seek to deny or kill off,
our greed and lust,
our desires for earthly goods,
that nice watch that man is wearing,
our desires for physical pleasures,
as we look at someone attractive.

It is hard to write in the voice of the other,
those we remember, those we repress,
and those we seek to serve.

Note: This was written for a poetry group prompt about writing in the voice of someone else

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Finish Later

This evening, I went to hear Jonatha Brooke at The Kate in Old Saybrook. It is very late, too late for me to try and write anything very coherent, but I want to get down some of my thoughts, even if I’ll need to finish them later.

One of the songs she sang was parts of some of Woody Guthrie’s writing, including one with the words, “Finish Later” at the bottom. When I heard that, I knew that would be, at least part of my quick evening post.

It seems like more and more of my writing is falling into the finish later category, ideas for blog posts, parts of poems.

It made me think of a poem by Billy Collins about unfinished poems by Paul Valery, January in Paris. These partial memories make me think of another poem by Billy Collins, Forgetfulness.

But this is a digression. Another song Jonatha Brooke sang was about her mother as the Alzheimer’s took hold. “Are you getting this down?” her mother would ask her. I’m trying to get some of my reactions to this evening’s music down.

One of the things she spoke about between songs was about that doubt that wracks all writers. I touched on this doubt in a recent blog post talking about Lent and The Accuser. It relates to my daughter’s book, Don’t Make Art, Just Make Something. I’m sure there is material here for me to explore in my discernment process. Where does art, being a creator created in the image of The Creator, yet tormented by doubt about being good enough, a good enough writer, among other things, fit in?

One other song she sang was about when her mother went into hospice and she wasn’t ready. She sang about The Last Call, and Red Molly’s song “The Last Call” came to mind. Poetry, music, art, woven together with doubt, uncertainty, reconnecting art to daily life, reconnecting spirituality to art and to daily life.

There is so much more that needs to be written about all of this, when I’m not over tired, when I have more time. So this, too, will end with

Finish Later.

Ash Wednesday: Memories of Dust #wRite40

We remember being in Arid Land
and Breathe Wind blew us
into Holy Water.

Breathe Wind,
Holy Water,
and We mingled
and became something new
called “man”.

But we ignored Breathe Wind,
forgot Breathe Wind
and Breathe Wind left.

Holy Water evaporated
and we again became
Dust
in Arid Land

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