When I moved to Ireland 17 years ago, newly divorced from my husband and a successful consulting career, I didn’t know a soul. I did, however, know in my bones that I wanted to make art and write. Lucky for me, I found an amazing writer’s group that still meets all these years later.
Every two weeks, we’d be given assignments designed to stretch our minds and push us out of our comfort zones. The assignments helped me gain my writing strength; the camaraderie helped me keep my sanity. Now writing alone in these NH woods, I’d give my right eye tooth for that group and am determined to form another creative community — they provide powerful support and fertile ground.
Some of the work I produced in my Irish writing group appears in my one-woman show How to Draw a Nekkid Man (formerly I Will Be Good) and some of the work just graces my studio walls. I’ll leave you with a poem I had to write using three random words found in the dictionary:
The doors open
Freed from their monastic cells
Our souls sing in a chorus of colors and dance in swirls of blues and greens
Touched by the Divine
We eagerly await the madness
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