I awoke this morning feeling rudderless alone and adrift so I partnered myself with sheets and pillows in a meager attempt to stop the sway to right myself between swells of defeat and despair but finding no equilibrium I moored myself to the day and got on with it albeit without commitment or fortitude floated aimless past noon and afternoon grateful for the sunโs setting the welcome drift of deep deep dreams.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. Photo by Josh Sorenson. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
The cool breeze and I considered the change of season, wondered together how much time we had before she would leave again.
Poem & Photo ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Itโs hard to believe itโs been seven years since my dear, sweet friend Mary Anne Siok died. I think about her a lot, especially these days when her kind of sparkle and joy would be a light in the darkness.
Sheโd be pissed about the current state of the world. Ferocious in her protests. Screaming from the front linesโฆand dancing. Sheโd be dancingโฆand so would I.
I havenโt re-posted this โ her eulogy โ for a few years, so I thought this would be a good time. And a good reminder, because I still donโt say YES nearly enough as I should, and the years are racing byโฆ
Mary Anne and I met in a freshman English class at UMass in 1984. We were just joking a few weeks ago about how it’s been 30 years since we graduated. I said “How the hell did that happen?” and she said “Because we’re old.”
But the MA I knew – the one we all knew – was never old. Very often her texts would go on and on about what she was doing and where. (Even her cousin Katherine couldn’t keep up!) The weekend before she died? On Friday, after a full day of work and a train commute home to Rhode Island, she went out for sushi with Billy. On Saturday, she and I spent an entire day walking around the mall, shopping, talking, toasting her birthday with bloody marys. On Sunday, she was with friends at Foxwoods to see the Hollywood Vampires, and then on Monday she celebrated a gorgeous spring day with a drive along the coast and lobster rolls.
THAT, in a big long-weekend nutshell was our Mary Anne.
MA was my best friend, my secret keeper, my sister, my personโฆand the most fabulous yin to my yang.
Me ever so cautious and worried, the introvert full of specific plans to her come what may, live life to its fullest, hell yeah we’re doing that extrovert with an absolute love of life.
She was inspiring.
So much so that in recent years, I’ve taken to asking myself WWMAD? As in: What Would Mary Anne Do?
What would Mary Anne do? Mary Anne would say Yes.
YES to the next concert, the Red Sox or Patriots game, the fireworks, the dive bar, the music festival, the movie night, the road trip, the matching tattoos, and one more Hallmark Christmas movie.
YES to the beach. Always.
YES to anything in black, the sales rack, the sparkly earrings, the extra glass of wine. And YES to Dunkin Donuts. Of course.
YES to dancing โฆ anywhere, drinks at the Hard Rock Cafe, going to the symphony, enjoying a home cooked meal, taking a spinning class โฆ or yoga, cheering on her boyfriend’s band.
YES to shopping at the outlets, seeing an art exhibit, wandering a museum, getting tickets to a play, or a long full day at the Big E.
Jump off a 3-foot ledge into the ocean while a crowd cheers? Yes.
Help you check off something on your bucket list? Yes.
YES to coming to your BBQ, your daughter’s dance recital, your campaign event, your nephew’s first birthday, your sons’ soccer game, your girls’ weekend, your wedding, your holiday dinner. Probably all on the same day โฆ usually with a gift โฆ always with that big, sweet, joyful smile.
A smile that said YES, I’ll move in with you. YES I’ll meet you at the winery. YES I’ll be at the party. YES let’s go shopping.
YES, we have to do this again soon.
Not everyone can do that โ be so wide open to life and love and friends and experiences. No holds barred. Fearless. Hell yeah, we’re doing that!
And so, in honor of the blessing that was our wonderful, bold and brazen, brave and beautiful Mary Anne Siok, I challenge you โ all of you โ to say YES a lot more often.
And I thought we could practice right now…ready?
In memory of Mary Anne Siok, May 31, 2018. Click here to read her full obituary.
It is often effortless this charge a light somewhere a word a phrase a road highlighted on an internal GPS how to get from here [ thought ] to there [ something written ] with little but an invisible arrow a compelling a compulsion an understanding that itโs fleeting unforgiving fickle if not me and mine then someone else somewhere else will get it catch it in whatever way they have learned to catch mitt, net, rain barrel
I prefer mine organic open a door a window my arms let the words come right in no ceremony or formality no place settings and certainly no roughhousing (live and let live, I always say)
you wanna be a good poem or a bad poem, one anointed with laurels or just doddering in the margins? come on out with all your slick juices scream and wail and take that first breath, baby!
and then there it is whatever it is good, bad, mediocre
I donโt mind them any of them, really theyโre warm-ups stretches practice runs compost
take a deep breath
because the good ones? Mmm, yeah, the good ones, they glow! preternaturally hum and buzz and vibrate a little so you have to keep reading them over and over pinching a dream is this real?
You just birthed an angel, mama โ a wild wondrous angel โ watch her fly!
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. Photo by Eusebiu Soica. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Hindsight is 20/20 except when what youโd been seeing then, back then, was larger than life, grander than anything you could imagine and so enormously out of proportion thatโฆ now, hindsight is microscopic requiring broken circles of glass โ that you try not to bite down on too hard or else you might bleed even more than you already have โ to see what was right in front of your eyes all along how minuscule you had to make yourself to fit into that space that small mindedness that box with clearly defined edges (and no imagination) but these are things you donโt see through rose colored glasses their purpose only to color inside the lines with one conforming color the vision of what you were programmed to think you wanted that small sweet girl and her dolls playing make believe building castles out of miss-matched pieces instead of telescopes with which to see the much bigger picture.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
This morning, on a friendโs Facebook page, I read a heartfelt plea for a newsfeed devoid of a Donald Trumpโs face. And while I, too, would love an opt-out button for that, it makes me wonder: is that her Algorithm? is she clicking on posts that generate more of that same face? That happens to me, a lot.
Our Algorithms, if you think about it, are mirrors of our thoughts โ are they not? How we think, what weโre thinking about, often what we thought about yesterday or the day before. The omnipresent Big Brother feeds us more of the same until we are beyond sated, until we’re over-stimulated and over-whelmed, jacked up on fake dopamine, or banging on Read More Read More Read More like a sugared-up teenager at a carnival whack-a-mole.
And while I know (I know) itโs important that we keep informed about current events, that we pay attention to what’s happening in our world โ Iโm also concerned that we’re collectively helping to create what’s happening by focusing on what’s happening.
Itโs called Manifesting. You can read about the positive effects of manifesting in popular books like The Secret (Rhonda Byrne) and Law of Attraction (Esther Hicks ย and Jerry Hicks).
And before you say hocus-pocus. Remember that prayer is also a form of manifesting.
โAccording to many spiritual teachingsโฆconsciousness creates our reality. What we desire is what we receive. If we are uncertain, we receive the energy of uncertainty. If we respond to crises with worry and negative, thinking, we increase the likelihood of a painful outcome.โย โ Yehuda Berg, The Power of Kabbalah
Yes, we are living in scary times. Yes, we need to pay attention to whatโs going on. But in our attempts to pay attention to what we donโt want, are we losing sight of the things we DO want?
How can we ever hope to create a safe, peaceful, equitable world if our thoughts (and hearts) are always focused on threats, war, and inequalities?
We can all talk about what we donโt want โ easily and profusely. Think about it, how many conversations have you had in the past six months about Donald Trump and his insane antics? About the circus that is our government, the atrocities happening to our immigrants, in Gaza, in Ukraine? About what’s happening to America, democracy, and our way of life?
Now, how many times have you talked about what makes a great leader? about the people on the ground doing good work on behalf of those who are suffering? about what you want the world to look like in the future? how many times have you laughed, planted something, created, danced?
All week long, activist and author Jessica Cravenโs Chop Wood, Carry Water emails focus on what’s going on, the scary things happening in our government, and actions steps to take. But once a week, she posts Extra! Extra!, a glorious accounting of all of the good things that have happened lately.
I’ll be honest, by the time Extra! Extra! arrives on Sundays, I am usually stacking another shipment of canned beans in my basement and making sure my stun gun is fully charged. So to read all of the positive things that are happening, all of the forward steps weโre taking, all of the good news despite my Algorithm? My Hope tank fills right back up!
We all need a full Hope tank. So, here are 10 Ways to Fill Yoursโฆ
1. Go outside and breathe. 2. Listen to your favorite music and dance (or sing) (or both). 3. Go for a walk in the woods. 4. Have a playdate with a friend. 5. Get creative: make art, write something, bake, garden. 6. Watch a favorite movie. 7. Go to the library and find a book to read. 8. Take a day off social media/media/technology/work. 9. Keep a Gratitude Journal. 10. Change your Algorithm by reading good news; start here.
Letโs all MANIFEST the kind of world we want to be living in together!
Photo from National Park Service.Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Radar shows the storm purple and red and gold but all I see for miles are shades of Cape Cod gray pale where the sky should be a graphite-thin horizon line its boats like ghosts and a graduated green-gray ocean punctuated by the occasional wild white cap making its way to shore even the trees are gray this morning their late spring effort almost forgot inside this passing storm whose endings promise blue.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Bring me here, darling, the day I die. Letโs hope the seals bob curiously at our folly and the black cap gulls make us laugh along with them.
Letโs manifest giant waves โ the kind little boys scream into โ and a full moon that plays hide and seek with the setting sun behind billowed clouds and tall green grasses.
We can celebrate whale spouts and whale tails and the fine thin lines of birds come back โ that life goes on and a moment of joy can last forever, here, a laugh, a dance, and love worn smooth with time.
Weโll hope for a cold spring day you and me alone on the dunes and that one final breathtaking breeze to push me forward into oblivion.
Photo (Race Point Beach, Cape Cod)and Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Photoand Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Her Algorithm has teeth fangs, really like the kind you see in nightmares, and its fur is black and sharp like a worn carpet tread in worry and fear, with small fibers that pierce the skin and stick like burrs.
Her Algorithm has firm, strong legs and claws that dig in and hold fast to a path she didnโt even realize she was walking down, until sheโs so far deep and running at such a clip all she can see is the hot steamy breath of her Algorithm, the gates of hell like a flaming blur.
and thereโs nothing a cute purring kitten or craft project can do but watch from the sidebar and wait their turn until the Algorithm catches sight of something more interesting and follows its scent down a rabbit hole of obscure poetry, trendy dance moves, and weird fashion from a 1970s JCPenney catalog that turns her Algorithm a shaggy, avocado green.
Photoand Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Heart-shaped rocks underfoot all around on the grassy path and sand dune from here to the shore and at the waterโs edge
(dare I say even in the palm of the Garรงon at the pรขtisserie whose smile needed no translation)
Hearts!
There was a time I would have come home with enough heart-shaped rocks to border a banister, fill a bowl and basket, lined them up to show the Garรงon in the morning with coffee and croissants
but I am content now to find moon stones instead translucent round and easy love in the stars, the sky, the universe enough
Photoand Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
In a persistent effort to weave a web the spider imperceptible casts her silver filaments from the uppermost spire of a wintered beach plum one thin budded branch from which a hundred casts arc and fall arc and fall her small labors shimmering in afternoon light prayers of possibility glittering
Photo by Matt Hardy.Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
There is a slice of ocean outside my window and in it the world from a view just above a confluence of birdsong and whalesong the mechanics of the day juxtaposed to sweet, sweet silence.
Photo by Matt Hardy.Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
A siren wails and I startle, a black car idles and I keep a wide circle, thunder rattles windows and I watch to make sure lightning follows
the world is teetering and I keep testing my balance, make sure I am still upright.
Photo by Matt Hardy.Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Thereโs this photo in which he stares at the camera and I remember weโd already begun by then; made plans, talked for hours, fallen in love, even by the look on his face; I remember that day, our chairs pushed together, sharing our lunches, scribbling notes to each other like school kids; but we were hardly that, hardly so fresh to all of it; I wish my camera had focused more, had adjusted its exposure to show the shadows, the rough edges and hidden details, to find the nuances in the full picture I see so clearly, now.
Poem and photo ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
This is Reverend Scott on the valve in the belly of Poseidon. Quint in the jaws of his worst nightmare. Jack and Rose at the Titanicโs stern. Eowyn and the Nazgรปl. Harry and Voldemort. Bruce Willis on the asteroid careening through space.
This is the battle scene. The climactic moment. The death scene.
This is before the denouement. Before the resolution. Before the credits roll.
This is the moment that needs you. That demands faith. That requires courage. And sacrifices.
So hang on tight, baby, because itโs going to be a bumpy rideโฆ
Yippee-Ki-Yay, Motherfucker!
Image from the film 2012.Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Grizzly Bear and Goldilocks (thatโs not my name, she says) are discussing the merits of cinnamon applesauce and whether or not I would eat her, instead, barbequed with ranch dressing but before I can answer in my gruffy harumphing voice weโre off to gather sticks for our make-believe fire pit and the sโmores weโll eat later because right now sheโs making breakfast pancakes with maple syrup? bacon and strawberries I love bacon! which we eat while she laughs that the syrupmakes my fur sticky so she cleans it off my hands thank you then we pretend-read a book before going to bed and I snore as loud as I can until she wakes me up ten seconds later to sit by the fire (just one more round, she asks) so I canโt possibly leave and why would I ever want to? there are sโmores, after all, and a backyard afternoon that is just right.
Art by Goldilocks aka Alyssa.Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
I have seen her one hundred times since she died in crowds and corners when I least expect and last night in a dream again looking fabulous and forgiving all my tears waited until I was done so we could step into the space of time allotted that glorious dreamspace where everything is as it was and we do as we used to do for hours unending until I wake no longer feeling quite as alone.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
If these walls could talk these shelves and set-aside spaces you might think I love her and I do one hundred times I do and have for so long I no longer remember first glance, first conversation first spark of friendship but this and this and this tell our story โ part of it most of it the sum of it โ easy to turn pages in this space and remember the miles we traveled, the endless stories, the memories gathered in pockets to take home for safe keeping.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
The morning thick with sound spring sound a humid hovering of birdsong and flowersong buds on trees whispering and soft soil separated by anxious green almost ready for the ministry of bees and butterflies soon to be tending and tittering a symphony of what is this moment and what will be at any moment soon.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Itโs witchcraft, surely the lyrics so clearly written for you and meโฆha! as if she even knows we exist
or existedโฆ itโs been so long
but maybe we are whatever we were whatever that was something to write songs about
our confluence of time and need desire and connection in an instant how we both knew!
like we do now in moments the coincidence of a memory a sighting a conjuring of you and me and shadows of
whatever we were whatever that was something to write songs about
on the radio and me singing like an incantation a beautiful wicked spell as your car passes by
Hocus Pocus I’m sure youโd say and weโd laugh again one more time for old timeโs sake
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne with thanks to Taylor Swift. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. For more on this topic, order your copy of โThereโs No Such Thing as the Poop Fairyโ today! NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Sleep has been merciful these past three months, arriving early from exhaustion staying late in fellowship with the dreams that wax nostalgic for simpler nightmares and harmless ghosts.
But this morning, Iโm awake at 3, my familiar and I like old friends sharing space beneath the spring moon, waning in its sixth phase, while one lone peeper keeps time as sharp as the second hand on a clock.
We have not been together in this way โ the moon and morning and me โ since the monsters took over, since their cacophony of destruction, the sinister palpitation of days, and all of us wondering what or who will be next.
This morning is a gift of quiet comfort, the marsh frog a beacon which seems to say Here! Here! Here! over and over and over, it reminds that even in the age of monsters, once can find solace in the soft, dark edges, calm in the promise of cycles and phases, of spring and worlds ever spinning.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
The tree โ smooth and shorn of its bark โ is like a prayer wheel, calligraphy etched by time, and at once my walk becomes sacred
it is mantra and sutra, praise and repentance, invocation and intercession
god is on the wind today, Her blessings arrive in birdsong
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
sit up straight the napkin goes on your lap elbows off the table tines down tines up left hand, right hand, tip the spoon away donโt slurp donโt shovel donโt talk with your mouth full
and
sit
up
straight
May I please be excused?
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
to the frog eggs in the pool in the woods in this world
to the moss upon which I walk
to the osprey for my disturbance
Iโm sorry Iโm sorry Iโm sorry
the words come unbidden
all around the pond
this is just the way it is now
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
To the Starlings who have moved into the Privet Hedge on Short Beach Road,
Welcome.
Please stay as long as you like.
Help yourself to the bugs and slugs in the front garden. Enjoy the spread of sweet clover and violets in the lawn, but watch for the mower who arrives every two weeks on Friday.
There’s always shade under the boxwoods, if you need, and rain water in small pools along the mossy brick path.
In the back, you’ll find a bird feeder loosely tended, but often full of seeds, and an endless dance of bees among the honeysuckle by the old dogwood.
We have resident squirrels, a family of five jays, and a chipmunk who resides just south of the bird bath which we keep filled all summer long.
The pond out back offers the companion of frogs and turtles, crows and owls, a flock of your brothers and sisters, and at least one hawk for balance.
Pay no mind to the cat. She never goes outside, but does love her spot on the screen porch. Feel free to watch her watching you, that could go on for hours!
Now mind you, I do have one request.
What I ask only in return is this: please do not cross the wide wild way, west of the hedge. Itโs fast and merciless. If you, out of instinct, fly that way ever, please stay high and alert.
And come home safely.
Always, Jen
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
It occurred to me this morning, while I held tight to old dreams, that someone, somewhere was also waking to this day, but opening eyes to a present they recognized: the familiar sun though curtains and the routine of Sunday laid out in front of them with no need to pretend otherwise; the photos on the shelf of old friends smiling, the bucket list taped to the refrigerator door, the piggy bank promise of new adventures somewhere and someday still shimmer in the early light of their morning, there; should I tell them? remind them to hold fast live in the moment for godโs sake everything is fleeting, tomorrow might already be a memory.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Thoreau, she tells me, was tended to by women. Meals and laundry โ a side of the story Iโd missed, hadnโt even thought to think about; his cabin in the woods? his solitude and simplicity? my dream! my escape! my alternate ending! and who considers practicalities when weโre having a transcendental crisis? I am disheartened and disappointed and thenโฆdelighted! The solitude of the woods? The simplicity of sojourn? And a community of women to soothe and support? Life Goals times one hundred!
P.S. Thereโs a Walden video game!
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. Inspired, in part, by Hendry David Thoreauโs Walden. The title of the poem reflects the quote: โI learned this, at least, by my experiment : that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.โ Photo from Literary America. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Itโs the robinโs trill that most often calls him to mind deep from the arbor of spring azalea and its cotton candy blooms, the privet hedge shoulder high then two stories up in an instant of memory, a wooden screen door slam bees and clover and Pappy lifting me to the sky whiskey on a breeze, the rough chafe of whiskers, โchirp chirpโ he says as a kiss against my cheek then sets me on the ground to tangle in the blossoms one more time before we leave for home.
Poem ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. Photo of poet, age 4, with her grandfather. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
There have been serendipities and celebrations, people at round tables making plans, and friends finding joy!
We have shared meals and memories, secrets, and epiphanies!
We have danced and chanted and sung songs, beaten drums, created community.
We have made art, read books, written poems, baked bread, and feasted on ice cream three scoops high!
We have laughed, cried, prayed, and sighed so many times we can no longer count.
We have resisted, persisted, persevered, survived, and thrived.
We have hoped
and will continue to do soโฆ
meanwhile.
Poem ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Thereโs a ghost standing on Mountain Park Road I spy her from the highway as I scream past at seventy She might have waved but had no need to I saw her knew her remembered all of the layers of time, there on the overpass at Mountain Park Road and I wondered briefly if she knew me here now this apparition this shadow of who she used to be in a blur of recognition a moment frozen in time the all of us in overlap here, there, then, now on Mountain Park Road
Poem ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
This morning I stayed in bed squeezed my eyes shut and begged for more more sleep more dreams more anything than what waits: that 21st century disappointment and the cold blank stare of what comes next
It was already hard enough to live with the stark comparison of hopes and dreams versus real world, the daily effort of just keep swimming just keep swimming
Now there is just this THIS every day THIS good lord THIS
Once, I told a therapist that I was considering a long slow drift in ice floe silence, and she sat aghast asked if she should be concerned so I dialed it back and laughed like I was joking
Concerned is such a funny word โ To Whom It May Concern we have concerns but it is of little concern
Yesterday, at a protest, I danced with strangers and felt free in a way I havenโt since my best friend died seven years ago and I thought: she is better for it dead before THIS all of this with no concerns no need for persistence or resistance or a clever exit strategy disguised in a poem.
Poem & Photo ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
โWear the world like a loose garment, which touches us in a few places and there lightly.โย โ St Francis of Assisi
The air is soft 70 degrees and a breeze that feels like a worn cotton sheet in the confluence of seasons
just enough
and the smell is sweet like fresh washed linens floating on a line a gentle tease to soften the unease
the whisper-song of nearby trees is music to appease
just enough
my heartfelt pleas for peace
Poem & Photo ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. Photo from Canva. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
All along the highway a brutal massacre agony and destruction jagged edges claw the sky not even the grace of a clean cut no time to spare for the scream of chain saws the equal labor-to-labor dignity of tree felling the man-versus-nature earth shaking victory (the silent apologies) we are now machine-efficient cost-effective and ruthless with stands of trees laid bare twisted to their breaking point ripped and torn delimbed, stripped, shredded sun burning shaded places raw spaces for the taking
ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
like they do commas and capitals but then we might find ourselves flat out and running on and on with none of the visual implications of poetic pauses
The
at least gets me started revs up the reader for what comes next
without
It
I might just be Haiku
ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Somewhere in the ebb (of the work day) and flow (of the springtime woods) a page turned and laid itself gently across the path like a vignette filter on this enchanting afternoon and there beneath my feetโฆ
A single spotted wintergreen rises up from the groundโฆSpotted wintergreens are the flowers that grow from longing.
The sun has warmed the alcove of cedar, so I sit for a while to consider the flowers, the swan, the osprey, the character who calls to me from across the pond who? who?
He turns and stops, his head tilted towards the ground. He stands there for several seconds, staring at the spotted wintergreenโฆ
Am I dreaming? Then he carefully pushes his hands into the soil next to it and a cardinal flower punches through the surfaceโฆCardinal flowers grow from frustration.
Perhaps dreaming or remembering? Surely there is magic about, even the Owl agrees watching now from above, as I sigh and adjust andโฆ
Kneel beside the cardinal flower and touch the Earth, a purple cone flower rises to greet me.โฆthe perfect flower for apologies.
We add to our conversation, wildflowers taking over the dirtโฆand so much spotted wintergreen, longing everywhereโฆ
We see each other. I think we always have.
How long did I sleep? I donโt recall. Time stood still there by the pond beneath the trees that whispered and sang and soothed us โ the Owl and I โ for a moment or hours or maybe perhaps a lifetime.
A new flower punctuates the end of our conversation โ a single iris to say he loves me.
With all thanks to Rachel Griffin and The Nature of Witches, this found poem ยฉ2025, Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
A shadow crosses my path and I am at once only that over which the heron has flown โ of no other consequence โ with only a regiment of lilies to bear witness how small am I to his eye? I wonder as I step across a stream apologizing to the startled swans and bowing to the osprey watching warily; thereโs a blush in the tree tops and across my humbled face the all of us in awe of this magnificent spring day.
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
the Mystic says to reenvision my life story to purge the inessential elements and exorcise old ghosts this, just days before the Healer reminds me that old stories are just old stories are just old stories
old stories that say โwe donโt have room for youโ right now, anymore, again โfor reasons of space and other limitations that have nothing to do with your meritsโ nothing to do with you right now, anymore, again โbut thank you for your interestโ
so when a friend says she is taking the YES steps all I can see is the surgically precise removal of my bloodied ego, its clots and cartilage forming bitter words on a page that Iโll turn into kindling soon, remind myself that forgiveness and an open heart (healing and self-love) sometimes mean putting down those old stories and walking away leaving them to fend for themselves deep in the dark woods of the past
their smoldering incense wrapping around my wicked incantations while I dance in the freedom of letting goโฆYES!
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
โLaunched by the Academy of American Poets in April 1996, National Poetry Month is a special occasion that celebrates poetsโ integral role in our culture and that poetry matters. Over the years, it has become the largest literary celebration in the world, with tens of millions of readers, students, Kโ12 teachers, librarians, booksellers, literary events curators, publishers, families, and โ of course โ poets, marking poetryโs important place in our lives.โ
My favorite way to celebrate is to join with the thousands of poets participating in NaPoWriMo โ NATIONAL POETRY WRITING MONTH โin which we write a poem a day for the month of April.
While NaPoWriMo is celebrating 22 years this year, Iโm happy to say this will be my 11th year attempting to write 30 poems in 30 days! Here we go!
twice today we passed each other and twice today that friction of energy and chemistry and memory tugged at the the solid yellow line like the force between silver magnets so we each turned bullet-time freeze frame slow motion twice today a sideswipe glance the closest weโve been in years
Poem ยฉ2025 Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
Itโs been three months since the last issue ofย Creatively Speakingย and Wow! OK, how โbout them Eagles?
Itโs been a pretty intense few months, and if youโre anything like me, itโs been hard to look away, right? And maybe youโre feeling a little over-stimulated, a little off-focus. Some of us are leaning into the dark side more often and feeling anxious, irritable, or depressed.
Thereโs a reason for this, and it might not be exactly what you think.ย The current chaotic state of affairs is asking us to be more alert, to pay more attention to whatโs happening in the world. That alone is enough to kick in our fight-or-flight response.ย Then add in a layer of technology โ constantly checking headlines, reading to stay informed, scrolling social media, keeping engaged with each other on our devices โ and weโre literally flooding our system with both adrenalineย andย dopamine.
We are JACKED UP โ can you feel it?
For me, itโs taking the shape of being a little attention-deficity, not super creative, tired, and a bit obsessed with Tonyโs Chocolonely milk chocolate bars.
Iโve been thinking a lot about this lately. Particularly as it applies to dopamine, because the original inspiration for this newsletter was a video called Choose Real Dopamine:
Dopamine is a neurotransmitter, or chemical messenger, that regulates pleasure, motivation, and reward in the brain. Itโs sometimes called the feel-good hormone, and it gets released when we do things we need to survive, like eat, drink, compete, and reproduce.
Our brains are hard-wired to seek out behaviors that release dopamine into our reward system, and with the right amount in our bodies, we can feel happy, motivated, alert, and focused. But when our dopamine levels are off-balance, our bodies start to struggle.
Ivette Lampl, M.S., LPC-S, LMFT-S write more about this in โThe Effect of Cell Phones on Dopamine in the Brainโ:
โThe brain is wired to function like this: put in effort โ achieve reward. Cook up a tasty snack? Enjoy the yummy treat. Hike up a steep hill? Take in the scenic view from the top. Effort โ Rewardโฆ.
Technology has allowed us to eliminate the effort part of the Effort โ Reward cycle. No need to cook a meal โ just have it delivered! No need to drive around town looking for the perfect dress for an upcoming event. Just open your favorite shopping app and several options can be at your front door by morning.
Now add in a layer of dopamine hits that we get from our minute-by-minute interactions with our devices. Likes, comments, notifications, messages โ all of these are tiny doses of dopamine that we ingest all day long. When the brain senses that there is an abundance of pleasure without the effort/challenge to offset it, it decides that there is too much dopamine and it needs to produce less. And without the brainโs production of dopamine, we begin to seek out more dopamine from external sources, and this cycle continues.
Think of it like this. Letโs say youโve gone on a long walk on a hot day, and you treat yourself to a scoop of ice cream. Amazing! The brain receives a dose of dopamine and all is well. Now letโs say you really enjoyed that ice cream, so the next day you help yourself to a large scoop while watching TV. No problem. But the next day, you crave ice cream so you eat it directly from the carton. By the end of the week, youโre eating a pint every dayโฆ[and] The ice cream is no longer pleasurableโฆ.โ
You know as well as I do that itโs hard to put the phone down, to ignore the dings and buzzes from our various devices, to turn off notifications or gasp! turn off the phone itself. And itโs hard to recognize when our reward system is no longer enjoying our efforts.
Apparently, this attachment to our devices is something weโre all curious about. Do an internet search for โways to reduce phone usageโ and youโll find pages and pages of results! Here are some of the top suggestions:
โข turn off notifications โข put the phone on silent โข turn on airplane mode โข put your device in another room โข set time limits for when you use the device. โข consider doing a digital detox โข create a Dopamine Menu for alternative activities โข go outside and look up
Mine includes things like taking a walk in the woods, gathering things to donate to the thrift shop, watching a favorite old movie, meeting a friend for lunch, and working on my writing.
Now, you may ask what all of this has to do with Creatively Speaking, right? Well, I donโt know about you, but I find that there is a direct correlation between how much time I spend on my devices and how much time I allow for my creative work. When Iโve turned off my phone or given myself a digital detox day, I sleep better, get more things accomplished, and have an expanse of open space in my brain to contemplate things like a new poem, my next book, and other creative considerations.
Our technology is not going anywhere, so itโs on us to find a good balance between on and off, between all-consuming and moderation.
Wishing you balance, real dopamine, and a rewarding amount of ice cream.
Happy Spring!
Love, Jen โค๏ธ
Creative Inspo
I was inspired by a DIY video to make this cell phone cubby for my phone. It hangs on the wall in my kitchen โ ironically where the old corded landline used to hang. Before dinner, I put the phone on Airplane Mode and hide it away and out of reach. Itโs not foolproof โ I check it a few times before I go to bed โ but it does keep me from going down the scrolling rabbit hole. Since Iโve been using the cubby, I notice I am more relaxed at the end of the day, I spend more time writing, reading, and making art, and I definitely get a better nightโs sleep!
Practiced throughout history โ in every culture and on every continent โ poetry speaks to our common humanity and our shared values, transforming the simplest of poems into a powerful catalyst for dialogue and peace.
Held every year on March 21, World Poetry Day celebrates one of humanityโs most treasured forms of cultural and linguistic expression and identity.
UNESCO first adopted March 21 as World Poetry Day during itsย 30th General Conference in Paris in 1999, with the aim of supporting linguistic diversity through poetic expression and increasing the opportunity for endangered languages to be heard. World Poetry Day is the occasion to honor poets, revive oral traditions of poetry recitals, promote the reading, writing and teaching of poetry, foster the convergence between poetry and other arts such as theatre, dance, music and painting, and raise the visibility of poetry in the media. As poetry continues to bring people together across continents, all are invited to join in. ย UNESCO, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, is a specialized agency dedicated to strengthening our shared humanity through the promotion of education, science, culture, and communication. For more information, see www.unesco.org. ย ย
The man protecting Pi sits in the last cell down a dark hall, bent in consternation over a paint palette, its colored stripes a childโs keyboard xylophone petals coded to remember the whole of it all
next to him in a cell so close they hear each otherโs considerations like dreams, a teacher traces fine connected filigrees on the wall and hums a song he almost remembers about stars and sheep and something called an alphabet he thinks, but is not sure words are not his charge
words belong to the woman down the hall who lives in a room of books stacked floor to ceiling their faded covers and cracked spines are her dominion into which she gets lost for days or weeks, leaves them all ย โ the scientist, the teacher, the healer, the artist, the poet ย โ waiting to hear how it ends, wondering if it all comes full circle.
The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things: of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings, and why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings.
Random Acts of Writing began as a WordPress blog 15 years ago today! Since then, it has meandered through themes and genres as adventurously as Alice wanders through Wonderland.
The โWalrus and the Carpenterโ quote above (from Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There) is not too far off really. I talk about a lot of things here on this blog. After all, it says so right in the title: Random.
On the pages of our current blog, and in the archive site RandomActs10, youโll find creative efforts like poetry, essay, photography, flash fiction, and mixed-media collage. Topics range from nature and the environment, to travel and food, and creativity and spirituality.
I talk a lot about books โ because I love books, and I also write them. Every now and then I wander into current events, but mostly I try to find connections between this and that, that and this, you and me.
I have been blessed to have readers like you โ some of whom have been following along from the very beginning. I hope youโll all continue on the adventure!
After November, I took to re-binging one of my favorite television shows, and we just got to the season when COVID hits. It was actually filmed during COVID, which makes the episodes somehow more poignant.
As Iโm watching the season unfold, Iโm remembering those days when we really didnโt know what was going to happen, when people were suffering at ridiculous rates, when there was seemingly no end โ or hope โ in sight.
Iโm remembering how we hunkered down. How we embraced simple things like making bread and trying new recipes. How we found comfort in each other โ even from six feet away. How we came together and sang from balconies.
Iโm also remembering our feckless, reckless President โ back then โ so incompetent and uncaring at his job that it felt like we were on board a rudderless ship heading for the rocks.
Itโs hard not to feel that way now, because here we are, back in a collective crisis, worried for our friends and family, worried for ourselves and our livelihoods. Furious about the lack of leadership, again, from that awful awful man and his minions.
In the episode I watched last night, a young doctor was sitting outside the hospital in despair. Sheโd lost patients, run out of supplies, had been working non-stop, and worried that she might soon simply lose her mind.
But her friend finds her, allows her space to talk, shows her compassion, gives her comfort. They lean into each other for a while, and the despair eases.
It made me realize that the suffering weโre experiencing now is very much like the suffering we just experienced in the pandemic. Like then, there is so much that doesnโt make sense, so much to be afraid of, so many unknowns.
And, like then, we will get through this. Weโll be kind with each other. Weโll allow space to talk and to cry and to rage. Weโll be a little more compassionate, a little more gentle with other โ and with ourselves. Weโll help each other cope, and weโll dance it out when we just canโt cope anymore. Weโll take care of each other and lean into each other.
I was going to tell you the story of a flag. One of those disgusting political flags. Those in-your-face, middle-finger-to-the-constitution flags you see around town, you know?
I even drove back around the block to take a picture of it, because what I thought I would be writing about here is how the flag is falling. How one wind storm twisted its staff and half-toppled its cement base. How its flaccid affect can be seen from a quarter mile in either direction. How wide that made me smile.
But then I went for a walk. On this glorious, blustery Winnie-the-Pooh kind of day. I was enchanted by the blue sky and the crisp cold air. I was pushed along by the wind, and even laughed out loud a few times.
It was like the wind blew all of that angsty stuff right out of me. Replaced it with Joy!
And as if to underscore the moment, there was wide and wild wind that roared through the forest, and I watched as these hundreds-of-years old pine trees swayed in the wind. SANG in the wind.
Their roots were deep enough. Their community was supportive enough. And they were strong enough.
They didn’t twist or bend or fall. They resisted. And they sang!
I whisper, in hushed tones, that she is safe, stroke her soft furred body as she lies in my lap, promise the wolves wonโt get her, hope she was sleeping when they came last night and ripped fur and flesh from our friend the rabbit who visited the yard all winter, but I know she heard the screams, I can see it in her eyes when I make my false promises I make a lot of them these days โ to this cat who needs to be close more often now and to myself that everything will be OK.
Iโm reading a book voraciously this morning, swallowing down pages like I did the Chinese take-out last week, like I do most things these dayโฆitโs Sunday and itโs supposed to be Sacred Sunday โ a day of slowness and quiet and rest, a day without the distractions of technology and that loud, noisy worldโฆbut the silence these days is hungry, it needs something to fill it up before the monsters come, before their loud clanging of concerns vibrates my mind at a deafening frequency. Theyโve already invaded my spine, their long, worried tentacles crippling any attempts to move forward, their slimy bodies slithering into thoughts at night, racing thoughts and me running faster than I can in the wake of days โ the technician lists off the degenerative changes, the demineralization, osteophytes, and narrowing spaces, but neglects to mention the impact fracture caused by my inability to see past my own feet. Iโve never been one to skip to the last page of a book, I swear, Iโve always trusted in the ability of its pages to take me where I need to go, to help me manage the outcome with whatever dose of resilience was neededโฆbut this? this story? I am already so braced for the ending there are days I canโt move.
On a lighter note, if you have not read Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, please do. Itโs a lovely read.
โYou Are Hereโ is the reassuring little icon on a trail map that gives you your bearings, lets you know, in the grand scheme of things Where. You. Are. Itโs often the first thing you see when you start out on an adventure somewhere. These days, with things so frighteningly askew, itโs good to have a sense of where you are in that grand scheme. And there is nothing better to make you feel a little more grounded, a little more connected to the bigger picture, than a walk in the woods!
Join me for a walk at one of my favorite places to unwind, regroup, and find inspiration.
INGREDIENTS: collage, color scans, digital art, ephemera, essays, original photographs, poetry, quotes, vintage artwork. With thanks to GIS Specialist Nicole Castro, Erwin Raisz, Ted Andrews, Hans Christian Anderson; Joseph Smith, William Curtis and the Royal Botanic Gardens, Jamie Sams and David Carson, Henry David Thoreau.
Full Color 11×17 folded map with way too many inserts and a curated video playlist. Cost: $8.00.
You can pay through PayPal using a PayPal account or any standard credit card. If you prefer the old school approach, please send your check, made payable to Jen Payne, P.O. Box 453, Branford, CT 06405.
Report from the Senate Floor, written by US Senator Chris Murphy (D โ CT).
โLast night in the Senate, something really important happened. Republicans forced us to debate their billionaire bailout budget framework. We started voting at 6 PM because they knew doing it in the dark of night would minimize media coverage. And they do not want the American people to see how blatant their handover of our government to the billionaire class is.ย
So I want to explain what happened last night and what we did to fight back. The apex of Republicansโ plan to turn over our government to their wealthy cronies is a giant tax cut for billionaires and corporations. And they plan to pay for it with cuts to programs that working people rely on. Popular and necessary programs like Medicaid, Medicare, and SNAP, are all being targeted. In order to pass the tax cut, Republicans have to go through a series of procedural steps. Last night, they took the first step which requires them to pass an outline of their plan, but with it, any senator can offer as many amendments as we want. So my Democratic colleagues and I did just that.
Now, we knew that Republicans would largely unanimously oppose them, but we had two objectives here. One, Republicans were forced to put their opinion on record โ many for the first time โ on the most corrupt parts of Trump and Muskโs agenda. Two, as Iโve been saying, I am going to make every process and procedure as slow and painful as possible for as long as my colleagues choose to ignore the constitutional crisis happening before our eyes.
So what did we propose? We proposed no tax cuts for anyone who makes a billion dollars a year. We made them vote on whether or not Elon Musk and DOGE should have limitless access to Americansโ personal data. We made them vote on whether to protect IVF and require insurers to cover it. Every single amendment Democrats proposed was shot down. On almost every single amendment, Republicans universally opposed it. Every Republican voted against our proposal to prevent more tax cuts for billionaires. The corruption and theft is happening in the open here.ย
The whole game for Republicans is taking your money and giving it to the wealthiest corporations and billionaires โ even if it means kicking your parents out of a nursing home or turning off Medicaid for the poorest children. They know what they are doing is deeply unpopular. They are offering a tax cut to the most wealthy that is 850 times larger than what they are offering working people. Oh and by the way, any tax cuts for working people are going to be washed out by higher costs for basic necessities, like health care and food. Itโs a fundamental injustice.
Thanks to your pressure and support, many of my Democratic colleagues have joined my effort to do everything we can to make sure they cannot destroy democracy and steal your money in the dark of the night. We are being loud about what is happening. Iโm going to continue to grind the gears of Congress down as much as possible to make it that much harder and slower to get away with this corruption. Thatโs why the votes lasted until nearly 5 AM.
This is a five-alarm fire. I donโt think we have two years to plan and fight back. I think we have months. Itโs still in our power to stop the destruction of our democracy with mass mobilization and effective opposition from elected officials. So we canโt miss any opportunity to take advantage of opportunities to put Republicans on the record and shine a light on what is happening.
And you have a role to play in this as well. I need you to amplify whatโs happening, support the leaders who are fighting for you to make sure they can continue speaking truth to power against Musk and Trumpโs billionaire cronies, and show up at rallies and town halls. Use every tool at your disposal to send a message loud and clear about how you expect my colleagues to lead and fight in this moment.
Every best wish,ย US Senator Chris Murphy (D โ CT)โ
These days, I wake up with a thin veil of hope. Before the All of it sets in. Again. Then I breathe and stretch. Light incense. Beseech saints and gods. And settle into the morning routine of cat feeding and coffee making โ this is the Grounding.
When I am fortified enough, I glance at the headlines and subject lines. Read Jessica Cravenโs latest Chop Wood, Carry Water to talk me off the ledge. Remind myself about Chaos Theory, and This Too Shall Pass. Recite the Serenity Prayer: serenity, courage, wisdom. Breathe.
I relay inspiring quotes about Resistance and Creativity and Hope on social media. Call and email my Senators and Representatives. Take small actions of Revolution before I settle into my day, which, for now, is same and sane and familiar.
Familiar enough that at some point, I shake off the Big World things and muck about in my own for a while. The usual: the house repairs, the bills, the client rubbing me the wrong way, that one thing that one person said that irritated the piss out of me, my motherโs caregiving, the impending knee surgery, on and onโฆ
And onโฆwhile the world fucking burns outside my window. Literally. Figuratively. Absolutely.
Every time I find myself marinating about my Small World things, I hear Julia Roberts/Liz Gilbert in the opening monologue of the movie Eat, Pray, Love:
โl have a friend, Deborah, a psychologist, who was asked if she could offer psychological counseling to Cambodian refugees โ boat people, who had recently arrived in the city. Deborah was daunted by the task. These Cambodians had suffered genocide, starvation, relatives murdered before their eyes, years in refugee camps, harrowing boat trips to the West. How could she relate to their suffering? How could she help these people? So guess what all these people wanted to talk about with my friend Deborah, the psychologist. lt was all, โl met this guy in the refugee camp. I thought he really loved me, but when we got separated, he took up with my cousin. Now he says he loves me, and keeps calling me. Theyโre married now. What should l do?โ This is how we are.โ
This is how we are, in part, because we are susceptible to what is called โCrisis Fatigueโ โ that feeling of overwhelm, lack of control, or the urgency of the next crisis.
And goodness knows, weโre like a Russian doll of crises these days! Everywhere you look, itโs crisis stacked upon crisis upon crisis.
So where is the fulcrum? How do we find a balance between staying informed and hiding under covers? Between revolutioning and resting?
Remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint. You need to make time to drink water, slow down a little, pace yourself.
In her article โWhen tragedy becomes banal: Why news consumers experience crisis fatigue,โ Rebecca Rozelle-Stone , Professor of Philosophy, University of North Dakota asks, โHow might we recover a capacity for meaningful attention and responses amid incessant, disjointed and overwhelming news?โ and suggests, beyond reining in digital device usage, that we consider:
โLimiting the daily intake of news can help people become more attentive to particular issues of concern without feeling overwhelmed. Cultural theorist Yves Citton, in his book The Ecology of Attention, urges readers to โextractโ themselves โfrom the hold of the alertness media regime.โ According to him, the current media creates a state of โpermanent alertnessโ through โcrisis discourses, images of catastrophes, political scandals, and violent news items.โ At the same time, reading long-form articles and essays can actually be a practice that helps with cultivating attentiveness.โ
She also recommends a focus on โmore solutions-based stories that capture the possibility of change. Avenues for action can be offered to readers to counteract paralysis in the face of tragedy. Amanda Ripley, a former Time magazine journalist, notes that โstories that offer hope, agency, and dignity feel like breaking news right now, because we are so overwhelmed with the opposite.โ
So do that.
But rememberโฆitโs OK to take a day off โ from work, from social media, from headlines, from the Resistance.
Itโs OK to eat ice cream or take a nap or laugh out loud. Itโs OK to make plans, to look forward to things.
Do the things that keep you sane and keep you grounded. Revolution requires Resilience.
In Eat, Pray, Love, the medicine man Ketut suggests to Julia Roberts/Liz Gilbert:
Keep grounded so itโs like you have four legs. That way, you can stay in this world. Also, no looking at world through your head. Look through your heart instead. That way, you will know God.
As part of its ongoing Fireside Chats program, the Blackstone Memorial Library welcomes Branford author Jen Payne for a poetry reading on Saturday, March 8, 1:00 โ 3:00 p.m.
In honor of International Womenโs Day, Jen will be reading from her new book, Sleeping with Ghosts, focusing on some of the women sheโs written about โ mentors and muses and friends. After the reading, Jen will be joined by Laura Noe for a conversation about how our relationships with women influence and inspire us. Laura, a local author as well, holds a masterโs degree in Womenโs and Gender Studies, and is currently teaching the Psychology of Women at SCSU. Attendees are welcome to bring a short (100 words or so) introduction about one important woman in your life to share with the group.
Copies of Sleeping with Ghosts will be available for sale during the event. Refreshments will be served.
This event is free and open to the public. No registration is required. The Blackstone Memorial Library is located at 758 Main Street, Branford. For more information, visit http://www.blackstonelibrary.org.
Jen Payne is a poet, author, photographer, and artist. She is inspired by those life moments that move us most โ love and loss, joy and disappointment, milestones and turning points. Her writing serves as witness to these in the form of poetry, creative non-fiction, flash fiction and essay. When she is not exploring our connections with one another, she enjoys contemplating our relationships with nature, creativity, spirituality and our inner lives. Ultimately, she believes it is the alchemy of those things that helps us find balance in this frenetic, spinning world.
Her work has appeared in numerous publications including Sunspot Literary Journal, The Perch, and the 2024 Connecticut Literary Anthology. She has written five books: Look Up!, Evidence of Flossing, Waiting Out the Storm, Water Under the Bridge, and Sleeping with Ghosts, all of which are available to borrow from the Blackstone Library. They can also be purchased online at 3chairspublishing.com.
Today, I talk with Kaecey McCormick at Some Thoughts: Everything Creativity, who writes: โI’m thrilled to bring author Jen Payne to the blog today in an interview to discuss life, writing, and her new book, Sleeping with Ghosts. Earlier this month, I hosted a Community Poetry & Prose Night with the theme “The Ghosts We Carry,” and Jen’s book is a wonderful example of how we can be “haunted” by so much and how these “ghosts” show up in our writing.
Kaecey: Jen, welcome! Iโm thrilled to chat about your new book, SleepingwithGhosts. The way you blend genres in this collection is fascinating. Sleeping with Ghosts is described as a โtime-traveling memoirโ into the heart and mind of a poet. What inspired you to choose this format, and what challenges did you face in crafting such a unique narrative?
Jen: Hi Kaecey. Thanks for being part of the Sleeping with Ghosts blog tour!
Like you, Iโm not only a writer and poet, Iโm also a blogger. Iโve been writing and creating at Random Acts of Writing (randomactsofwriting.net) since 2010. That name, it turns out, was spot-on! My creative work shifts from poetry and flash nonfiction, to essay and photo essay.
As readers will find in Sleeping with Ghosts, I also write a lot of memoir pieces.
The poems in the book have been written over the past 10-15 years, but they cover a time span of 40! From that perspective, time traveling becomes a natural consequence! (It helps that Iโm also a closet Trekkie and a bit of a sci-fi nerd.)
I find I have an acute memory for what I call โdefining momentsโ โ those places in time when something shifts or changes, times that you bookmark to remember. I am easily able to slip back into those moments and recall the feelings, the conversations, my surroundings. And then I write!
As happened in my previous books of poetry, Evidence of Flossing and Waiting Out the Storm, the poems in Sleeping with Ghosts gathered themselves quite naturally. As soon as I set the intention to create this book, the poems and chapters, and their organization was very clear. The biggest challenge, I suppose, was making sure that the ghosts each got their own say, and that their stories were told to completion.
Kaecey: I can imagine that covering a time span of 40 years meant some “ghostly” challenges! You did a wonderful job making sure each voice was heard. Much of your writing in this collection reflects on past relationships or experiences. Iโm wondering, was there a defining memory or experience that sparked the creation of Sleeping with Ghosts? How did it start and how did the concept evolve from that initial inspiration?
Jen: Indirectly, yes.
Iโve been a writer all my life: journalist, copy editor, freelance writer, marketing wordsmith. I started my own graphic design and marketing business, Words by Jen, when I was 27, and spent a great deal of time writing for other people.
But the year I turned 40, I reconnected with someone I had been deeply, crazy in love with. We hadnโt spoken in 15 years, and our reconnection felt monumental andโฆkarmic.
When it didnโt work out (again), everything broke wide open for me. I had to find a way to write from that place, from that broken-hearted, emotional, vulnerable place. Thatโs really when I began writing the good stuff!
(Actually, you can read about the whole experience in my book Water Under the Bridge: A Sort-of Love Story.)
Kaecey: It’s amazing how those difficult experiences can spark our creativity. And speaking of difficult, your work often explores themes of memory, creativity, and loss. How do you navigate writing about such personal experiences while still making them resonate universally? What advice do you have for poets and other writers who are tackling big themes like grief?
Jen: I think I write about my own experiences because I have to โ itโs how I process things, how I connect with the world. Not to be cliche, but writing is my love language.
Iโm a bit of an introvert, so writing and storytelling are my way of sharing, of having a conversation, of participating.
Iโm not sure I intentionally try to make my work resonate universally, so much as the stories are universal. We all experience these moments โright? The broken heart, the unrequited love, the death of a friend, the relationship we need to leave.
But not everyone has the courage to talk about their experiences. Itโs hard work talking about disappointment, broken hearts, loss, and grief.
What inspired me most to write from the heart, to be brave about it, was Brenรฉ Brownโs book Rising Strong. In it, she writes, โWhen we deny our stories, they define us. When we own our stories, we get to write the ending.โ
So my advice to writers tackling the big life themes would be a) read Brenรฉโsbook, and then b) be brave and write!
Kaecey: Love that. I’m a Brenรฉ Brown fan! So yes! And I appreciate what you just said about our stories as universal human experiences. Youโve also written about our connection to the natural world, and in previous interviews, you mentioned the “alchemy” of emotions, nature, and creativity. Iโm hoping you can elaborate on how this idea informs your writing, whether thatโs in the language and imagery itself or as part of your process, particularly in this new book, Sleeping with Ghosts?
Jen: There is a certain kind of magic that happens when we can step out of our day-to-day and let new information come in. For me, that very often happens when I walk in the woods or on the beach. For others, the magic happens in meditation or after physical activity.
Weโre all so busy these days. And when weโre not busy with actual work โ job, house, family, life โ weโre regularly seduced by technology and our scrolling, binging culture. Creativity requires us to get away from all of that. How can we hear our Muses when everything else is demanding our attention?
I think itโs important for writers and artists to find those things that let them reconnect with their creative voice. One poet I know recently went on a week-long silent mediation, and when I marveled at that to his wife, she said โThat’s him. I prefer moving meditation, like tai chi or yoga.โ
For me, being in nature is a critical component of my writing. Whether itโs a regular walk at my favorite nature preserve or a week-long writing retreat by the water โ I need that time away to process through the stories and the things I want to say.
And yes, very often there is an overlap of my connection with nature and the imagery and language in my writing, including Sleeping with Ghosts. Of course!
My book Waiting Out the Storm was a very personal tribute to a dear friend who died suddenly. I found the most comfort being in nature, and witnessing how life and death and rebirth play out all around us. Nature was my solace.
Thatโs what I mean by alchemy โ we are part of a much larger universe than our day-to-day. If we can be open to that, give ourselves time and space to come back to our awareness of that, it can infuse our writing and our sense of self in pretty amazing ways!
Kaecey: Beautifully put, Jen. And so helpful for other writers to read about that part of the process. Speaking of process, I feel like, as writers, weโre often surprised by something in our work or in the process itself. Maybe you start a poem about the lipstick case you lost and end up writing about the death of your cat. Maybe you want to write about the sunlight and you end up writing about your toddlerโs whining. (Or maybe thatโs just me!) In looking back at your journey with Sleeping with Ghosts, what has been the most surprising or rewarding aspect of creating this collection and sharing it with others?
Jen: This is a great question. Our writing can come as a surprise sometimes, canโt it?
One of the most surprising things about Sleeping with Ghosts for me has been how these poems assume their own personality, and almost innately tell the story of each particular ghostโฆdespite the fact that they were written at different times over the past 15 years.
The ghost in I Am a Rock/I Am an Island is unrequited loved no matter when I write about it โ in the moment or 10 years later. The ghost in Seeing Red is angry all the time โ then and even now.
The other surprising thing โ and probably my favorite part about writing this book โ is that the ghosts found ways to speak to me. They often showed up to remind me about a moment or a conversation that should be included. Sometimes they needed a final say โ and they would chime in while I was on a walk or theyโd show up in a dream. โSleeping in Truroโ was one ghostโs final say-so, and โDear Jennyโ was a ghost who appeared just months before the book went to press. When I asked the ghosts to give me a final poem for the book, they sent my Dad who asked, โDid you love?โ
I did, I haveโฆand now I get to share that with my readers!
Kaecey: “Did you love?” What a beautiful question and how wonderful to be able to answer in the way that you did! Jen, thank you so much for being here with me today. It’s be a joy to talk to you about writing, life, and your inspiration!
Jen: Kaecey, thank you for these thoughtful questions and the chance to dig a little deeper into the inspiration and ghosts in Sleeping with Ghosts! I appreciate it!
โAs a child I had free rein in libraries, selecting whatever books on whatever shelves interested me. It’s what inspired me to write books and publish books. And itโs part of what inspired Books for Good.โ โ Jen Payne, Three Chairs Publishing
Books for Good is a non-profit project from Three Chairs Publishing. Our mission is to purchase and distribute good-but-banned books to Little Free Libraries, community centers, and other locations (in Connecticut) in an effort to make them forever-available to interested readers of all ages, no matter the culture or political climate.
HOW CAN YOU HELP
Donate new or well-loved books to us from the list below.
Donate Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift cards that we can use to make purchases. (We do not accept cash donations at this time.)
Send us book recommendations.
Volunteer to help distributed books.
Please email us for more information or to lend a hand. Thank you!
I started my business, Words by Jen, in 1993. It was a part-time effort at first, offering writing and โdesktop publishingโ services to a small-but-growing list of local businesses, artists, and non-profits. By 1996, I had moved my office from the second bedroom of an apartment to commercial office space and was ready to leave my job at a local print shop to dedicate my time to my own work.
Back then โ pre-Google and social mediaโ one of the best ways to market a business was to have a listing in the phone book. Phone books, for those of you who might not know, were kept in every household and included all of the landline phone numbers in your town. There was a white pages section for home phone numbers and a yellow pages section for business phone numbers and advertising.
In the fall of 1995, I placed a yellow page ad in a phone book that would be in every home within 20 miles of my office.
The very first phone call I received was from a woman named Dale Carlson. Dale was a well-known New York City author who had moved to a shoreline town here in Connecticut and started her own, small publishing company, Bick Publishing House.
We met over coffee at a local breakfast spot, and had a very long conversation about how we might work together. She was as curious about me and Words by Jen as I was about the strong force of a woman sitting across the table from me.
Dale was 60 years old when we met, with an impressive resume of writing and publishing experience. Sheโd written more than two dozen books at the time, had been published by Atheneum Books, Doubleday, and Simon & Schuster, and was the winner of both an ALA Notable Book Award and the Christopher Award.
She had traveled all over the world, practiced yoga and meditation, was an advocate for folks with mental illness and addiction, read voraciously, and had recently become a licensed wildlife rehabilitator.
I, on the other hand, was barely 30 and just starting out in my careerโฆand my life. I must have seemed so young and naรฏve to her. Still, something clicked for both of us and we agreed to draw up a contract for โbook design and marketing services.โ
From that first meeting, Dale and I went on to create more than 30 books, from her first series of wildlife rehabilitation manuals in the late 1990s to her final book OUT OF ORDER: Young Adult Manual of Mental Illness and Recovery. We started on that journey together before independent publishing was a thing, before print-on-demand and Amazon and self-publishing. Dale had taken us out to the leading edge of this new industry, and it was an amazing ride!
She knew, for example, Jan Nathan โ the founder of Publishers Marketing Association (PMA) which became the Independent Book Publishers Association (IBPA). Her books were edited by Ann Maurer, who had a long history of editing for well-known publishers, and our team included Jean Karl from Atheneum and award-winning artists like cover designer Greg Sammons and illustrator Carol Nicklaus.
During our time together, I gathered a set of design and publishing tools that still serve me well today, including a well-worn copy of The Chicago Manual of Style that Dale gave me all those years ago. From her, I learned about book industry standards for design,how to edit and organize content professionally, what makes for a good cover design and effective back cover content, how to position a book properly for booksellers and libraries, and so much more.
Ask me what inspired me to write books and how I came to start my own publishing company โ Three Chairs Publishing โ and I will tell you about the 25+ years that Dale and I worked together: the long hours of editing around her kitchen table, selecting art and cover designs, developing a house style, and promoting her books.
The skills I learned from her then I apply now to my own books, and to the growing list of self-published authors I get to work with as Words by Jen. All total, I have had the privilege of shepherding well over 150 books out into the world, from Daleโs books and my own, to a long list of poetry, art, history, fiction, and non-fiction titles.
And to think it all started with that yellow page ad, all so many years ago!
Photo: Jen and her mentor, Dale Carlson, at the launch of Jenโs first book, Look Up! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness, in 2014. Sleeping with Ghosts is her fifth book under the imprint of Three Chairs Publishing.
โIt is also true that people in this country are not as meanโฆbut yet when they see this kind of hatred and meanness normalized, they look around and wonder, well maybe that’s what my country is. Maybe actually my neighbors have signed up for this kind of inhumane treatment of human beings. And so this has got to be a multisystemic effort. And one of the things that we need to do is to show people that that is not who we are and it is OK for you to decide perhaps to align yourselves with folks who might not share your specific political values just because you don’t want this country to be defined by division and hatred, and the way that you give people confidence to do that is not just through politics, it’s by doing good works and showing folks that is actually who we are and this is who you should be as wellโฆthe rallies and the actions are important but just modeling the kind of behavior that actually is in the heart of human beingsโฆitโs part of what a good resistance movement is.
FEBRUARY 13 Valentineโs Book Signing & Spontaneous Poetry Reading Thursday, February 13, 4:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m. at Guilford Art Center (411 Church Street, Guilford)
The Shop at Guilford Art Center is hosting a Valentineโs Day Shopping Event, all day on Thursday, February 13. Come see the treasury of beautiful objects made by hand with lots of loveโฆit’s the perfect place to find gifts for the loves in your life. As a special treat, I’ll be signing copies of my book Sleeping with Ghosts, handing out homemade cookies, and doing spontaneous poetry readings from 4:00 p.m. – 6:00 p.m. Please stop by!
FEBRUARY 15 Center Cemetery Book Launch with Jane Bouley Saturday, February 15, 12:30 – 3:30 p.m. at the Blackstone Memorial Library (758 Main Street, Branford)
Join local author and Branford Town Historian Jane Bouley for an Open House and Book Launch highlighting her most recent work Center Cemetery: Church Yard Section. The two-volume work includes the record and photographs of 470 gravestones in the oldest section of Branford Center Cemetery on Montowese Street. Jane will show photographs, describe the book, and answer questions. Refreshments will be served.
This is the third book that Words by Jen has helped Jane publish, and I am honored to have been invited to be part of this event to answer questions about book publishing. Please stop by to say hello!
MARCH 8 Fireside Chat & Poetry Reading with Jen Payne Honoring International Womenโs Day Saturday, March 8, 1:00 – 3:00 p.m. at the Blackstone Memorial Library (758 Main Street, Branford)
Please join me for a special poetry reading to honor International Womenโs Day. I’ll be reading from my new book, Sleeping with Ghosts, focusing on some of the astounding women Iโve known โ mentors and muses and dear friends. Together, weโll talk about how our relationships with women influence and inspire us. If you’d like, please bring a short (100 words or so) introduction about one important woman in your life to share with the group.
APRIL 27 Book Signing & Spontaneous Poetry Reading at Breakwater Books Sunday, April 27, 1:00 – 3:00 p.m. at Breakwater Books (81 Whitfield Street, Guilford)
I’ll see you on the CT Book Trail at Breakwater Books in Guilford, where I’ll be signing copies of my book Sleeping with Ghosts, handing out some sweet treats, and doing spontaneous poetry readings from 1:00 – 3:00 p.m. Plus, get your CT Book Trail Passport stamped for a chance to win over $4,000 in prizes as part of the 2-day CT Book Trail Passport Challenge!
Time alone during a retreat on the shore of Cape Cod, MA.
If the world were a sound, it would be flipping through all of the channels on a radio really fast. Announcers and DJs, commercials and music genres overlapping in the same way our 21st-century tasks seem to layer upon themselves.
Weโre always busy, thereโs always something else to be managed, and the To Do list is never-ending โ one crossed-off item seemingly births two or three more. Work, family, and home responsibilities line up like a song queue on a commercial-free weekend โ endless.
If youโre a creative type, like I am, though, you need to turn down the volume sometimes. All of that noise โ all of those weighty expectations โstifle our ideas and muffle our creative voice.
And while a Vacation can be helpful sometimes, thatโs a different genre of time off, usually involving a barrage of activities, schedules, attractions, must-dos, and must-sees. Whatโs more beneficial to your creative spirit is a Retreat.
Whatโs the difference?
I like to think of Retreat as all about the R words, like: Relax, Rest, Regroup, Restore, Reflect, Reset, Roam, Read, Recharge, Replenish. Get the idea?
Itโs time without any expectations or To Do lists, and time โoff the grid,โ if you can stand it.
According to an article by executive coach Rebecca Zucker in the Harvard Business Review, taking time off has reverberating positive effects on your sleep, memory, concentration, mood, and stress level.
Time off, she explains, โcan allow you to tune out much of this external noise and tune back into your true self. You can start to separate the striver part of you, let go of your ego, and reacquaint yourself with the essence of who you really areโฆfeel a sense of peaceโฆand do things that bring you joy.โ
Howโs that for motivation?
For the last 12 years, Iโve taken a week-long Retreat on the shores of Cape Cod. I spend my time reading books, walking by the water, and taking long afternoon naps. I eat simple meals, spend time in nature, write some poetry, and remember how to breathe deeply again. I try to make it a quiet experience โ time for rest and reflection, not a tourist jaunt or food tour.
Of course, not everyone has the time or resources to take off by themselves for a whole week. Sometimes I donโt either. Sometimes, an overnight at a hotel with a good book and a picnic basket of food is time enough. A Sunday drive down the highway with the radio on and the windows open can clear my head as much as a long walk by the ocean. And always, a morning hike in the quiet woods reminds me that somewhere beneath all the layers of noise, my creative voice is waiting for her opportunity to sing!
Whatโs your ideal Retreat? Can you think of two or three ways โ grand and small โ that you can tune back into your creative spirit?
An intimate exploration of love, memory, and meaning. Take a journey into the heart and mind of a poet, where memories wander, hearts break, and ghosts appear in dreams. The ghosts โ lovers, soulmates, muses โ reveal themselves chapter by chapter, in this charming and wistfully reflective, time traveling memoir.
Available from Breakwater Books, Guilford Art Center, Bookshop.org, Amazon, and 3chairspublishing.com
For the poet is a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses, and the mind is no longer in himโฆ โ Plato
Ghosts, Muses, Inspiration, Universe, God. Call it what you will โ there is another layer of this world that we live in, and if you can quiet your mind, sometimes, you can hear it and be inspired by it!
As I was finishing up the manuscript for Sleeping with Ghosts, my editor and I both agreed something was missing. While I loved the final poem โMissing Banksy,โ its alluded message about impermanence wasnโt quite strong enough to hold up the end of the book. But what would? I had no idea!
When I get stuck like that and canโt find answers โ about my writing or about life in general โ I like to walk in the woods. Itโs where I can settle my mind, slow down the busy-ness, and sometimesโฆsometimesโฆhear ghosts.
On this particular walk, I started out at the trailhead by asking the Universe to help me find a final poem, a final message for the book. Often, I can entice Inspiration with a request like that, and this time, it responded in the voice of my Dad.
Itโs not the first time my Dadโs ghost has spoken to me. He told me to PAY ATTENTION on I-95 once and saved me from a pretty awful accident; he often shows up unexpectedly as a hawk with a call of I AM HERE; and he responded to my poem query with a series of questions that became the poem โThe Final Ghost.โ
But connecting with our ghosts can be challenging! There is so much noise in the world today โ weโre busier than ever, more distracted by things, more seduced by technologies. There are so many things demanding our attention, how can we possibly hear Ghosts, listen to Muses, or tune into our Inspiration?
One of my all-time favorite movies is Contact with Jodi Foster. The scene I think about often is when she is in the portal pod thatโs been reconfigured with an anchored chair and seat belt โ things to keep her rooted in place as she travels across space through wormholes. But as she starts her journey, the chair and seat belt cause more harm than good. She may be OK to Go, but they keep her too firmly in place. Itโs only when she releases what holds her down that she projects openly forward.
In the same way, listening to your Ghosts requires that you release whatโs holding you back.
For Jodi Fosterโs character Ellie Arroway, what was holding her back was physically obvious. For me, I know that my biggest obstacle is technology and how it eats up my time and siphons my attention span.
So, what gets in the way of listening to your Ghosts?
Just this weekend, I talked with a woman who told me in a whispered voice how she stopped listening to her Ghosts because it seemed a little scary. And I have a friend who is a phenomenal painter, but she often ignores her Inspiration because it feels too powerful, almost possibly un-godlike.
But the idea of listening to Ghosts or Inspiration or Muses reaches far back into human history.
Did you know that โthe word inspiration ultimately derives from the Greek for โGod-breathedโ or โdivinely breathed into.โ In Greek myth, inspiration is a gift of the muses, the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (Memory).โ
Similarly, โthe Oxford English Dictionary defines inspiration as โa breathing in or infusion of some idea, purpose, etc. into the mind; the suggestion, awakening, or creation of some feeling or impulse, especially of an exalted kind.โ
In his article โHow to Find Inspiration, the Psychology and Philosophy of Inspiration,โ writer and philosopher Neel Burton offers seven 7 simple strategies to encourage inspiration:
1. Wake up when your body tells you to. 2. Complete your dreams. 3. Eliminate distractions, especially the tedious ones. 4. Donโt try to rush or force things. 5. Be curious. 6. Break the routine. 7. Make a start.
Because I know too much you look like her, so instead of blaring my horn I stop and smile and let you pull out into the crowded lot in front of me
You’re sweet and apologetic in gestures, so I smile even more and nod because I know too much, and I owe you โ or her โ a thousand kindnesses in place of apologies that have long since gathered dust in the corner of both our stories
Because I know too much about your suspicions and my jealousies, your patience and mine, I think this gesture now in this parking lot with this stranger might be atonement, might be appreciation โ or love โ a precious light in the shadows of our shared secret
Poem ยฉ2024, Jen Payne
If you like this poem, youโll love the poems in my new bookโฆ
โThey tried to bury us, but they didnโt know we were seeds.โ
Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the 40th annual MLK Breakfast, presented by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Heritage Foundation. It was a beautiful community event that included readings, music, and a presentation by Pulitzer Prize winning author Dr. Jeffrey C. Stewart who spoke about the history and importance of non-violence.
I went at the invitation of my friend Laura Noe, who has her finger on the pulse of activism in truly inspiring ways. She reads voraciously, volunteers liberally throughout town, and knows how to make good connections for others. Sheโs currently working towards her second Masterโs Degree, in Public Health (her first was in Gender Studies), and sheโs teaching two courses at Southern Connecticut State University this semester, Psychology of Women and Adolescent Development.
For several years, Laura has recommended I read the book Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, about the reciprocal relationships between humans and the land, with a focus on the role of plants and botany in both Native American and Western European traditions.
So yesterday afternoon, while the world around us marched to a seemingly different beat, I picked up my beautiful hardcover copy of Braiding Sweetgrass and began to read.
I suspect this was a divinely inspired moment โ something somewhere knew it was exactly what I was supposed to be reading yesterday, the odd ironic day in 2025 when we simultaneously honored a great leader like Martin Luther King Jr. and inaugurated a demon and his minions.
I wanted to share with you this gorgeous passage from the new Introduction in the 2020 editionโฆit delivers, I think, beautiful blades of hope.
I began writing Braiding Sweetgrass in what seems, from this moment in the midst of a global pandemic and the upheavals it has generated, a more innocent time, when climate catastrophe was a hot glow on the horizon. We could smell smoke but our home was not yet engulfed in flames. There was guarded optimism for leadership on climate change and justice for land and people, human and otherwise.
A lot has happened since in climate urgency, with the political pain of vile Windigos come to office and all the wounds they have inflicted. I donโt need to say more. This evidence might suggest that the medicine of plant stories has not worked very well to heal our relationships with land and each other. The powerful purveyors of destruction are still in power, the skies darkening. But as always, I take my guidance from the forests, who teach us something about change. The forces of creation and destruction are so tightly linked that sometimes we canโt tell where one begins and the other leaves off. A long-lived overstory can dominate the forest for generations, setting the ecological conditions for its own thriving while suppressing others by exploiting all the resources with a self-serving dominance. But, all the while it sets the stage for what happens next and something always happens that is more powerful than that overstory: a fire, a windstorm, a disease. Eventually, the old forest is disrupted and replaced by the understory, by the buried seedbank that has been readying itself for this moment of transformation and renewal. A whole new ecosystem rises to replace that which no longer works in a changed world. Braiding Sweetgrass, I hope, is part of that understory, seeded by many thinkers and doers, filling the seedbank with diverse species, so that when the canopy falls, as it surely will, a new world is already rising. โNewโ and ancient, with its origins in the Indigenous worldview of right relation between land and people. What the โoverstoryโ of colonialism tried to suppress is surging. It is the prophesied time of the Seventh Fire, a sacred time when the collective remembering transforms the world. A dark time and a time filled with light. We remember the oft-used words of resistance, โThey tried to bury us, but they didnโt know we were seeds.โ
Kimmerer, Robin Wall. Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants. United States: Milkweed Editions, 2020.
I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethroโ Gleams that untravellโd world whose margin fades For ever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnishโd, not to shine in use! As thoโ to breathe were life! Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new thingsโฆ
We all have ghosts โ those lingering memories that resurface when a song comes on, when a certain scent fills the air, or when we wander in our dreams. Those are the kinds of ghosts that appear in Sleeping with Ghosts โ the memories of moments and people who have wandered into my own life, the lovers and soulmates and muses to whom the book is dedicated.
As I was gathering the poems for this book, I kept hearing the phrase โI am a part of all that I have met.โ Itโs a line from Alfred, Lord Tennysonโs poem โUlysses,โ in which the protagonist reflects on his life and sees the fabric that is woven between him and his experiences. That is the essence of Sleeping with Ghosts, we are all connected โ by memory, by story, by experience. To emphasize that, readers will find common phrases, themes, and symbols repeated throughout the chapters and stories in the book โ a weaving of love, hope, and loss. (Humor, too.)
In total, there are 14 chapters in the book, including seven primary ghosts about whom Iโve written most frequently. These are the stories that captured my attention (and my heart) and left a shadow of memory long enough for me to step into now and then, to revisit and repurpose them into poems. The seven ghosts include a first love, the last love, secret encounters, and those defining moments that come from living life with an open heart.
There are two chapters dedicated to my muses โ the people who have inspired my life in a variety of ways, including life-long friends and cherished mentors โ and a chapter that narrates the Ephemera of lifeโs encounters.
My favorite section of the book is called Dreamwork. Itโs a collection of 12 poems presented like an inquiry or analysis with dated entries that note the particular ghosts as they reappear in dream form. These dream-ghosts are the wistful spirits of What If or Might Have Been, Ulyssesโ โuntravellโd world whose margin fades.โ I truly believe that dreams offer all of us an opportunity to reconnect with our memories, heal old wounds, and reinterpret moments in new and helpful ways.
I hope this book, as a whole, offers readers a chance to see things in new ways. That in the shadowy corners of their own memories, they might conjure up the โsomething more, A bringer of new thingsโฆโ for themselves.
Remember, we all have ghosts. Give them a direct line to your Muse, and you never know what will happen!
โReturning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction. So when Jesus says โLove your enemies,โ he is setting forth a profound and ultimately inescapable admonition. Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies โ or else? The chain reaction of evil โ hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars โ must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.โ
The physical therapist shows me exercises, but I tell her I am Stretched Too Thin ENOUGH ALREADY! So she digs into the mechanics of my Bracing for the Worst and attempts to allay the places where I am Holding on for Dear Life ย โ god bless their white-knuckle grip and control efforts โ INCOMING! My shoulders, for example, find comfort near my ears these days perhaps to hear which of the Invading Forces will surge today, while my back has decided it โ and it alone โ will hold me upright and steady so as not to fall headfirst into the Thick of It All; apparently my glutes are sitting this one out, and lord knows my knees wonโt hold us up โ theyโve just about given up or out, having carried the burden of this ALL OF THIS for way too long; even the feet are fed up FUCK YOU! says my big toe, the Last Line of Defense; the only Saving Grace these days is way up at the top where words and ideas and creative Escape Routes are lighting up the sky!
Poem ยฉ2024, Jen Payne.
If you like this poem, youโll love the poems in my new bookโฆ
Thereโs a man in a red hat walking across the pond on this chilly January day in 2025. I consider stopping to explain the precariousness of his position, except that I am familiar with this man. And I know my concern will be met with cold and bitter defense. He might walk farther out on the ice to prove his point. Indeed, he might even walk right to the thinnest spot and give a little jump. So I laugh out loud, remind myself that nothing can save him now โ neither his capacity nor his god โ and I head for the safety of home where I wouldnโt dare jump these days. Safe is all but an illusion now, and I havenโt the arrogance to pretend otherwise.
Poem ยฉ2024, Jen Payne.
If you like this poem, youโll love the poems in my new bookโฆ
Wolf Moonโs final moments illuminate the scar on the maple where last year, the storm tore a limb and crashed it to the ground, so in its place this morning a glowing pale shadow like an owl or specter, a No-Face in meditation over the yard; house eves cast a great horned shadow against the frosted grass and somewhere near somewhere unseen something stalks in quiet enough to hear its hunterโs walk, follow its course in the deepest dark of fallen leaves; the fog is thick with wood smoke and salt brine and catches in it a carโs whine screech scream like a banshee now as it rounds the bend closest to the house; an omen that soon the long tall branches will silhouette like weathered hands into the paling sky and the day-monsters will again grab tight to the day.
Poem ยฉ2024, Jen Payne. Photo by Gaurav Singh.
If you like this poem, youโll love the poems in my new bookโฆ
My mother, who is easily insulted, often remembers the time a therapist called her a storyteller. Mom recounts the comment as one might an injustice, and she twists and elongates the word โstorytellerโ to make it sound as painful as it felt for her.
What’s the old saying? The truth hurts.
That’s the funny thing about my mother’s story โ she IS a storyteller. Long before neurodivergent was a word, my mother was making her way through life with the only tools she had, and one of those was storytelling. Often and on repeat. It’s how she relates to the world and people around her.
I have a friend whose mother was also a storyteller. She had a degree in drama, was in numerous theatrical productions, taught children how to act and perform, and went on to start a successful annual storytelling festival. She also found connection in telling stories.
The act of storytelling is as diverse as these two examples and includes four primary forms: oral, visual, written, and digital. Within each of those forms, there are a myriad of vehicles: books and magazines, visual arts, stage, radio, film, television, video, internet.
Consider all of the ways storytelling comes into your own life! It’s part of the fabric of who we are. Think about it! What would we be without our fairytales, folktales, fables, religions, and mythologies? We are built on story!
And quite literally. This is what social scientist Brenรฉ Brown, says about storytelling in her book Rising Strong: How the Ability to Reset Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead.
โWe are wired for story. In a culture of scarcity and perfectionism, there’s a surprisingly simple reason we want to own, integrate, and share our storiesโฆ.We do this because we feel the most alive when we’re connecting with others and being brave with our stories โ it’s in our biology. The idea of storytelling has become ubiquitous. It’s a platform for everything from creative movements to marketing strategies. But the idea that we’re โwired for storyโ is more than a catchy phrase. Neuroeconomist Paul Zack has found that hearing a story โ a narrative with a beginning, middle, and end โ causes our brains to release cortisol and oxytocin. These chemicals trigger the uniquely human ability to connect, empathize, and make meaning. Story is literally in our DNA.โ
Like my mother, Iโm also a storyteller. I frequently use analogy and story not only to talk about my own experiences, but to say, โI understand yours, too. Letโs talk about it.โ It was Brenรฉ Brown who gave me the courage to tell those stories on paper, and who inspired several of my books, including my new collection of poems, Sleeping with Ghosts.
That book, Rising Strong, still sits on my coffee table โ dogeared and well-worn โ as a reminder to be brave, to show up, and to keep telling my stories. The book ends with her โManifesto of the Brave and Brokenhearted,โ which I’ll share with you here as inspiration for you to tell your own stories because what you have to say โ no matter how you say it โ is important!
Photo by Kool Shooters/Pexels.Brown, Brenรฉ. Rising Strong: How the Ability to Reset Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead. United States: Random House Publishing Group, 2017.
People often comment about the visual nature of my creative work, and how my writing is usually accompanied by photography or artwork.
As a graphic designer, artist, and writer, I firmly believe that partnering visuals and words layers the intentions of my work and makes the communication more palpable.
Two of my previous books, Look Up! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness and Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind, were as much about the color photographs as they were about the essays and poems. As a matter of fact, the whole concept of the poems in Evidence of Flossing was inspired by a series of photographs I took showing discarded dental flossers in random places.
Odd, I know, but they spoke to the message โ our disrespect of nature โ in a necessary and immediate way. Sometimes writing takes a while to be absorbed, while images have a speedy hook!
LOOK: THIS IS WHAT I WANT TO TELL YOU! (Read More)
I love that the cover of my new book, Sleeping with Ghosts, does exactly that: it grabs your attention!
The cover photograph is by Polish artist Malgorzata Maj, who I connected with online back in 2015. (Yes, Iโve known the bookโs title and have had that photo saved for nine years!)
Maลgorzata is a contemporary painter and photographer known for her symbolic nighttime landscapes and ethereal portraits exploring the world of the Unknown. She graduated in 2004 (Olsztyn/Poland) with the title of Master in Arts. Influenced by 19th-century symbolism, her photographic works feature a bold painterly approach to the compositions she depicts. She has exhibited in galleries across the U.S. and Europe, and published her works on numerous book covers and magazines. Today she mostly focuses on traditional media such as oil painting and continues to explore themes and ideas less accessible for photographic medium.
In a bit of happenstance, on her website, Malgorzata says she โexplores haunted places, past memories, and hidden feelings and symbols,โ which really is the essence of Sleeping with Ghosts.
โPhotography has this unique quality of something real and intangible,โ she says, โโฆsomething that I find difficult to speak about. It is the language of ghosts.โ
For the cover, I accented Malgorzataโs photograph with a cluster of stardust that appears in several places within the book. Itโs from a series of images in a Lunar Calendar collection by Lana Elanor that includes stars, moons, and constellations.
Elanor is an independent artist from Ukraine who now lives in Tulum, Mexico. She is โa meditative person passionate about art, travel, and the study of the conscious and unconscious mind.โ
About her work she says, โIโve loved creating art for as long as I can remember myself. Only beauty itself is a catalyst for the awakening of this world, so Iโm totally in love with the concept to make this place more beautiful than it was when we got here.โ
The illustrations that introduce each chapter, and entice the reader from the Table of Contents, are by Ukrainian artist Michael Rayback. I connected with Michael about his art in 2022, and we were both excited to include his work in my book. But Michael lives in Kyiv, and our last correspondence was several months after Russia invaded Ukraine.
I check his social media from time to time, to see if he is back online, but unfortunately, we have not reconnected. When I think of him, I remember this quote I saw on one of his sites:
โArt is self-expression, therefore all that you see here is a part of me. I know many languages of self-expression. I like drawing, I love photo art, cinema is one of the main parts of my life, I like cooking tasty and healthy food. I wake up at five in the morning to be alone and tune in for a new day, and the sun tells me that Iโm doing everything right and inspires me to new creativity. I do yoga and meditate. All this helps me to explore myself, I learn something new every day, and every day I try to be a little better.โ
Something we can all aspire to, right?
I do hope you appreciate the collaborative nature of Sleeping with Ghosts. Please visit these artists online and discover more of their work!
With all good intentions, I sat down at my desk today to write about this gorgeous painting by artist Lucy Campbell. Itโs called Axis Mundi, a Latin phrase that refers to the center of the world or the connection between the heavens and earth.
I was deeply moved by this painting, and understood my reaction as a sign to slow down, to go inward for a while, to be quiet and rest.
Like many of us, I find myself in between โ in between last year and next, in between what was and what will be, in between activity and rest. (Also in between inspiration and dormancy.)
So instead of writing something witty and thought-provoking about Axis Mundi, I am going to share with you this sermon by Reverend Rebecca Bryan, who serves as senior minister for the First Religious Society in Newburyport, Massachusetts.
โข READ โThe Axis Mundiโ online โข DOWNLOAD a copy of โThe Axis Mundiโ (PDF)
The article, titled โThe Axis Mundi: its role in mindfulness and across disciplines,โ feels like a good companion for these final days of 2024. Within it, I hope youโll find your own signs โ maybe a sign to find your still point, to consider your relationship with change, to find new ways to connect with the world around you.
Wishing you a peaceful, thoughtful, and hopeful New Year.
Did you know that Picasso created more than 50,000 works of art, but only about 100 of those are considered masterpieces? Thatโs less than 1% of his work!
I think about that little fact every April, when I attempt to write a poem a month for NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month). There arenโt a lot of masterpieces, for sure, but a few have been published. So thereโs that.
Of course, lots of folks will point out the averages โ ONE percent?!? And youโll never be at a loss for angsty advice about being a writer. Ernest Hemingway said โThere is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.โ Robert DeNiro considers a writer on a good day to be โisolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination, consumed by feelings of panic, self-loathing, and soul-crushing inadequacy.โ
Oh my. Does it have to be that painful?
Iโve been privy to lots of conversations about writing lately. I donโt have time, they say, or my work isnโt good enough, I canโt stop editing, what will people think?
I like what writing guru Natalie Goldberg advises: โSay what you want to say. Donโt worry if itโs correct, polite, appropriate. Just let it rip.โ
Thatโs the approach I go by every April โ just write. I suppose itโs the approach I take all year long. Just do it, like Nike says.
Author Neil Gaiman suggests, โThis is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until itโs done. Itโs that easy, and that hard.โ
Exactly, itโs that easy and that hard. I think itโs kind of like the lottery slogan: you canโt win if you donโt play. How are you ever going to write a masterpiece if youโre not writing all along?
Are you looking for a few unique gift ideas? Here are some suggestions from Three Chairs Publishing.
1.
If your New Year’s resolutions include adding more creativity into your life, then check out Mary OโConnor’s book Say Yes! to Your Creative Self. It includes original photographs and haiku, along with writing prompts and suggestions for making creativity part of our everyday lives. ($19.95)
Sleeping with Ghosts by Jen Payne offers an intimate exploration of memory and meaning. Its 100 poems short prose pieces, and whimsical illustrations, introduce the readers to those ghosts, lovers, dreams, and muses that haunt all of us. A cozy read for winter days. ($20.00)
Consider this collection of 50 โbuttonsโโ thoughts, ideas, memories, musings โ that capture 89 years of stories and conversations from Judith Bruder. Read the essays and listen to the original podcasts using QR codes included in From My Button Box: Collected Essays in a Pandemic Time. ($21.95)
Now in its 10th year of publication, LOOK UP! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness by Jen Payne continues to inspire readers with its essays, poetry, and color photos that remind us what happens when we make time to look up and see the world around us. A perfect gift for nature and animal lovers. ($25.00)
A one-year subscription to Manifest (zine) include 4 issues of this hold-in-your-hands art installation that featuring writing, photography, and artwork, along with bits and pieces of creative whatnot and a curated playlist. Pick 4 past issues or be surprised with the upcoming 2025 collection. ($25.00)
What inspired this new book and its focus on past relationships? Good question. I have always had an acute ability to recall moments in time โ I call them โdefining moments.โ You know, the point in time when something shifts or that you bookmark to remember later? As a writer, those โdefining momentsโ are a pretty fertile source of inspiration for all of my work, most especially when it comes to writing memoir and poetry.
I think itโs called autobiographical memory โ like photographic memory, but related to people, conversations, emotions, and interactions. I can easily find and settle down into memories and re- experience them in order to write about them. Sometimes I consciously rummage around to find something interesting, but often, the memories just show up โ like ghosts โ and ask to be written about.
Iโm also a storyteller by nature. I frequently use analogy and story not only to talk about my own experiences, but to say, โI understand yours, too. Letโs talk about it.โ
WOW:This book of poetry if so personal. Have you ever found it difficult to write about relationships featured in your poetry?
JEN: Some of these poems were definitely a challenge to write. Thereโs often sadness or grief knotted up in a memory. So when I untangle it to tell the story, those emotions resurface. But itโs more cathartic than difficult.
Other poems come more easily, welcoming the chance to reconnect with a love story, or remember moments with a dear friend, or find counsel from cherished mentors.
Have you read Brenรฉ Brownโs book Rising Strong? Itโs one of my most dogeared books. She talks about being brave, showing up, telling our stories. It ends with her โManifesto of the Brave and Brokenheartedโ:
We are the authors of our lives. We write our own daring endings.
We craft love from heartbreak, compassion from shame, grace from disappointment, courage from failure.
Showing up is our power. Story is our way home. Truth is our song. We are the brave and broken hearted. We are rising strong.
I love that!
I have to tell youโฆa side storyโฆthat the process of revisiting the ghosts in this book was fascinating. I had two amazing editors who read and critiqued every chapter, poem by poem. I spent hours with each of them, reviewing and reconsidering. It gave me the chance to dive deep into those past stories and live with the ghosts again for a while. That was an incredible experience โ to be steeped in memory like that โ it was visceral. Heartbreaking and beautiful all at once.
The insights and time from these two women were a true gift. The book is enormously more powerful as a result.
WOW:I am in awe of poets because I simply donโt have that lyrical talent. Tell us a little about how a poem is born. Does it come out in a rush of words or do you have to fight to create each line?
JEN: I know that some poets anguish over poems for weeks and months. To be honest? I donโt have that kind of patience. On the rare occasion when I do anguish, I end up with an over-kneaded poem thatโs too tough and lost its original flavor.
I always say the poems โshow up,โ which is what it really feels like. Something will trigger a memory or offer up the first lineโฆand whooshโฆthereโs the poem!
Ok, itโs not that quick of a process. I probably spend at least an hour or two on a poem โ write, rework, read it out loud a few times, rework some more, repeat. Sometimes I go back later and edit, but not much and not often.
The poem that took the longest to write in Sleeping with Ghosts was probably โUnder His Spell.โ That took a few days, mostly because itโs a rhyming poem, and I donโt often rhyme. (In general, I resist writing to [poetic] formโฆthough Iโve been challenged recently to give it a try.)
โDear Jenny,โ one of my favorites, took almost no time at all. That one showed up as if I was channeling the ghost himself and just transcribing his words. Like magic!
Poetry always kind of feels like magic to me.
WOW:A magic that is out of reach for so many of us. So tell us, how do you curate a poetry book? Do you select a topic and write poems, do you look at poems youโve already written and perceive a common thread or is it some combination of the two?
JEN: Would you believe Iโve had the title of this book in my mind for more than 10 years? I even saved the cover art and artistโs name in a file for safekeeping!
The poems span about 20 years of work. The curating of them was fairly straightforward when it came to the ghost chapters โ the seven ghosts are seven of those defining moments for me, with plenty of poems written over the years. But there were other poems โ like the small pieces of stories you find in the Ephemera chapter, or the ghosts that reappear in Dreamwork โ that needed to be included.
My favorite chapter to put together was Muses โ these are the women who have shaped and continue to shape my life. It felt important to include them.
Most of the poems were already written, but about a dozen of them are new, written specifically for the book or because of the book. The very last poem I wrote for Ghosts is called โThe Poet at Midnight,โ which describes, in a sense, what the curating often feels like โ a wandering through old memories and the discovery of which ones we hold onto.
WOW:Fascinating! I love the idea that you saved that image, knowing that someday there would be a book to go with it. Let’s take a peek at your life beyond poetry.In addition to a poetry and prose writer, you are also an artist, photographer, graphic designer (let me know if Iโve forgotten anything). Do you have a favorite creative outlet?
JEN: Writer, artist, photographer, graphic designer, yes. Also blogger and zinesterโฆbusiness owner (Words by Jen) and publisher (Three Chairs Publishing).
I donโt think I see them as individual roles, so much as tools I use for my Creativity. And I donโt have a favorite, really. Sometimes I love poetry โ like in April when I write a poem a day for NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month), and sometimes Iโm all about creating the next zine. Itโs more like whichever burner is fired up is the one Iโm cooking on today โ LOL!
I need to create. Itโs my raison d’รชtre โ who I am and how I move around in this world.
Iโm just lucky that I get to participate in the creative process all day long, either for my clients or with my own various ideas and projects.
WOW:What a lovely life to lead. You mentioned being a zinester. Could you tell us a little more about MANIFEST (zine)?
JEN: The zine is like storytelling lite!
I had always dreamed of doing installation art โ in my โspare time.โ LOL! โ like large spaces filled with words and visuals that visitors could walk through and experience. As an alternative, I came up with the idea of doing a zine that could hold the same ideas on a much smaller scale.
I had published another zine back in the early 90s, so I was familiar with the format and the (fabulous) zine community. It just felt like the perfect venue for my essays and poetry, and my other creative pursuits, like collage and photography.
MANIFEST comes out quarterly with a different theme for each issue. It has covered topics like change and transition, solitude, the pandemic, time and time travel โ sometimes politics, like gun control and womenโs rights. I just mailed issue #15 called Write, about finding inspiration.
WOW: So where are you finding inspiration? What are you working on now?
JEN:Mostly, right now, Iโm working on shepherding Sleeping with Ghosts out into the world. So thereโs a lot of publicity work and events to prepare for, including my blog tour with you!
But I also have the next issue of MANIFEST (zine) in process, and Iโm trying to decide if I should resurrect an old manuscript or start fresh with a new project of essays and poems. Maybe also a podcast?
I guess weโll have to wait to find out, right? Folks can follow along on my blog and social media for all of the latest HERE.
Thank you for your time, Jodi. Itโs been great to talk with you!
WOW:And you. I’ll let you get back to your being creative and your WOW blog tour with Sleeping with Ghosts.
randomactsofwriting.net 