Waiting for Company

 

Waiting for people to come

to the party

and talking to

well wishers by phone.

 

Happy Birthday Gary.

 

Happy start to a wonderful

new year.

Happy Birthday Gary

 

 

Happy Birthday to Gary

 

May you celebrate well

 

and be well celebrated.

 

May the rain stay away

 

from your party.

 

May you feel

 

well loved.

White Peony

 

 

 

 

Peonies are in Bloom

 

 

 

 

Peony for Terrence

 

Wordless Wednesday.

Spring Writers' Retreat 2013 with Ian LeTourneau

 

 

 

Spring Writers’ Retreat 2013 with Ian LeTourneau

 

I don’t know what I don’t know about writing poetry.  That’s annoying.  That’s also the way it is. 

Receiving feedback on my poems teaches me how to improve them.  However, one of my challenges in learning anything is this: I am a visual, tactile learner.  Hearing comments is helpful, but seeing them written is better.  Better still is sitting with someone who can tell me how to improve what I’ve written and show me how to change the poem around; show me on paper. Then I “get it.”  I see, I learn.  I can capture the concept in my mind and retain it.

 

The SpringWriters’ Retreat offered by University of New Brunswick provided the opportunities I needed.  In addition to time learning from and socializing with other writers, I submitted ten pages of my writing to share and to be critiqued.  Each of us did.  I read my poems aloud and then made note of the comments on my work, from Ian LeTourneau, the instructor, and from the other writers.  Any feedback given was positive and constructive.  No personal attacks or personality issues were permitted.  After everyone had commented, I had a chance to ask questions or make my own remarks.  We spent all day Saturday rotating turns reading our work and listening and critiquing.

An added bonus for me was receiving written feedback from three writers.  I took these pages home where I could study their suggestions.  These three didn’t make comments and leave it there, they wrote notes explaining to me why something worked well or didn’t work.  Those explanations were gold.

On Sunday, I met one-on-one with Ian LeTourneau to ask questions and to receive advice.  He explained in thoughtful detail a concept I had misunderstood.  He suggested a book for further study.  His feedback was encouraging, yet realistic and truthful.  I left with new lights on in my mind and optimism about my writing journey.

Prior to the retreat, I had received the copies of the other writers’ work.  For two days, I poured over their words, making notes on what worked and why, what wasn’t clear, what made me green with envy, and most challenging, what didn’t work and why.  To my surprise, I learned more from the discipline of having to write why something didn’t work in their submissions, than from making the easier comments on what did and why.

It’s been over a week since I attended the Spring Writers’ Retreat.  I’m still processing what I learned.  I’m grateful to have been in the company of writers for three days, for their casual conversations about their own writing, for their questions and their critiques. 

It was a fine way to learn what I don’t know about my own poetry writing.  

I'd go again in a minute.

 

 

Note: If you click on the coloured words in the text of this blog, you will go to another website with additional information.

 



I'm a Mother Therefore I Worry

 

 

I’m a Mother Therefore I Worry

Do you remember the first time your child wandered away from you in a store, or the library or in a parking lot?  The sudden sickness in your stomach.  The worry dense behind your eyes. 

Do you remember the rising panic when your child didn’t arrive home for hours and hours after a school event, or after they had just received their license, or after a date with someone your gut told you not to trust?  Can you recall the pain in your chest as you answered the phone and heard, “This is the police, we’re calling about…”?  Or the weakness in your legs when you answered, “Hello this is the hospital.  We’re looking for the parents of…”?

No matter how old or how competent my children and step-children are, if they don’t arrive when they are expected, I worry.  I know they will call…if they can.  For the first hour, I do well.  There are many reasons for delays.  After the second hour, I begin pacing a little and worry just a little more.  After three hours, my organized mind begins searching for scenarios and possibilities.  And when they are four or five hours overdue, I have to work hard at staying calm.

On Tuesday evening, I was nauseous, pacing, tight-lipped and teary.   My inner calculations told me they should have arrived at least four hours before they did.  And anything can happen to bikers…other drivers, breakdowns, loose gravel, deer or moose.  Anything can happen, can’t it?

I was so relieved to hear the rumble of their bikes driving up our street and into our driveway, so happy to hug their bug spattered bodies, to see their road-dirt faces.  So relieved and thankful.

My children had been to Bike Week at Laconia, New Hampshire and were due here at suppertime.  On the way back, his motorcycle broke down just outside of Ellsworth, Maine.  Her cell phone had lost its charge.  We had no way to check on them, so were unaware the bike had died at the side of the highway.

It took over four hours to reach a motorcycle repair shop, have the bike checked and to buy a new battery.

Even though they are adults, the thoughts of losing a child still make my throat close and my chest ache.

I worry. 

I’m a mother.

 

Words and photo are copyright ©2011-2013 Carol Steel.