Come the day when your god falls out of favor what then?
When you must face Mecca five times a day, obey the Buddhist Precepts posted in your schoolroom, worship the Golden Plates, honor a Saturday sabbath, abstain from
sex coffee alcohol smoking pork pornography swearing gambling dairy shellfish modern medicine electricity music
dancing?
abstain too from the worship of false prophets your idolatry of evil men and criminals
what then?
ยฉ2024 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.
I want to wake up thinking about my To Do list or the last slice of Zuppardiโs pizza Iโll have for breakfast.
I want to turn over and pet the cat glance at the book Iโm reading and think about Sunday: coffee, book, cat and thatโs that.
I want to lie for a while and plan out the road trip we wanted to take โ its next leg from Wyoming up and around and down to California if we can โ wonder at how weโve managed all these years like that and when we will again.
I want to rest easy in this wide, soft bed in this comfortable, quiet home knowing I have taken good care of it and myself enough to outlast the Zeitgeist roaring outside my window.
But instead I wake too early wondering if I should stockpile Ramen, learn how to shoot a pistol, hoard enough barbiturates for me and the cat, consider my escape route if I should be so lucky.
ยฉ2024 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.
He tows the party line so hard now I expect to see rope burns in hands that held me.
So hard now his gestures of hate in hands that held me โ how blind was I?
His gestures of hate he holds so firmly ย โ how blind was I? Those hands I loved.
He holds so firmly I expect to see rope burns; those hands I lovedโฆ he tows the party line.
A pantoum poem ยฉ2024 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.
The poems in the new literary review are long winded like me and my menopausal middle (or end) wide and seemingly without boundary word upon word upon word they write and write and write until what?
until the train of thought (finally) subsides or the ink runs out or the smooth gray lead breaks or the ribbon runs dry
Wait! Does technology even have an end point Does it ever run out? save for the Who came up with the idea of a battery-operated keyboard anyway?
I confess the poems are so long three pages, six pages, eight pages I canโt even read themโฆ my glasses run out of patience
Is that bad? Does that make me a poeta non grata?
What little I can read / bear / swallow are full up with words in LONG POEM form like the exercise of writing a 500-word essay in school gathering flowery fragments of tethered expressions joined by marks intended to separate elements and clarify meaning onto the page
Itโs me, Iโm the problem. Itโs me.
This stew of hormones and ego fear and frustration resistance even in the face of its futility
Please donโt make me fit into this form wear spanx abstain from ice cream suck in my belly while I write and write and write
until Iโm as out-of-breath as me post core workout post parking lot incline post headline skimming post anticipating the bleak future that lies ahead
โThe long poem is just right for our confounding, fractured ageโ writes a woman named TessI do not know
Perhaps that explains it: poets wanting to sink into this epic age โrepresent the sheer unmanageable scale, the vast and messy confusion, the epic ambivalence, of the 21st centuryโ
while I am pen-wielding and at-the-ready to slip out the back door and tell you about the voles who have taken up residence here in this hundred-year-old cottage built by a family who wanted nothing more than a place to enjoy their summers โ listen to bullfrogs in the pond and watch fireflies dance over the edge of the mossy granite ledge where now I plant iris and wait to catch a glimpse of the bobcat who only once visited my yard, but stillโฆ
But stillโฆness is what is required in these monstrous days when even poets canโt sit idle or wax nostalgic about bobcats and large bowls of ice cream or plain old simpler times charged instead to take up the pen and the sword write and write and write
until the margins explode
or we do
Poem ยฉ2024 Jen Payne with references to an article by Tess Somervell in PSYCHE. 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 had become meager, the smallest portions of love metered out in tiny bowls, with tiny spoons even, in gestures that implied generosity and she would smile at the novelty of the dollhouse scale into which she had settled; it was a full-face smile so her eyes could close pretend she didnโt see it all for what it was which was just enough to hold her feet glued down in the pretense of it the pretending it was all enough that stingy love to which he couldnโt even give a name because that would be too much donโt go fishing he chastised when she said she loved him one last time, trying to reel in the catch she knew she had to throw back before she got so small she disappeared.
Poem ยฉ2024 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.
Was I the only one to pray for you before the sun fully arrived to take you back to summer ashes or sky burial, feted by crowsong
Was I the only one to remember your face masked among morning shadows, wondering if the cat and I could see you โ it was just yesterday, my sweet friend
Was I the only one to tend to you roadside ravaged and alone, laying you down in soft green comfort a gathering of god-words at your feet.
Photo by Anne Desch. Poem ยฉ2024 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.
The chipmunk, through no fault of his own, sat trailside wounded perhaps I interrupted his prayer โ final words on the wind โ but he startled slowly and limped across my path with labored breath into the shady solace of honeysuckle as I whispered comfort in a soft, quiet voice stayed a while as witness
found myself still thinking about that chipmunk through no fault of his own wounded, trailside as the blue car crashed more silently than you might think into the white minivan on the busy byway pieces of metal flying in front of me, wondering
did he die without fear quietly โ there โ in sweet release?
Poem ยฉ2024 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.
Deep in the woods a spider casts her story across my eyelids invites an intricate dream of fine woven memory raindrops as sweet wine, and stars come down to glisten, listen eavesdrop into her delicate days the tightrope balance of patience and power the writhe and wriggle in her sacred dance, even she wonders sometimes what stories they have to tell โ the ant, the fly, the beetle โ but pays no mind for hunger is deep and instinctive, she whispers, it knows small mercy.
Photo by Phil Kallahar. Poem ยฉ2024 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.
Writing guru Natalie Goldberg advises: โSay what you want to say. Donโt worry if itโs correct, polite, appropriate. Just let it rip.โ And 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 Explore what it is about writing โ about creating โ that has us so frequently stymied. Ask yourself: Why can’t we Just Do It?
INGREDIENTS: collage, color scans, digital art, ephemera, essays, original photographs, poetry, quotes, vintage artwork. With thanks to Emily Dickinson, Peter Fischli and David Weiss, Greyโs Anatomy, Madge Kennedy, the New York Zoological Society, Oliver Twist, Harry Potter, Natasha Pulley, and Taylor Swift.
16-page, Full Color 4.75″ square booklet and a curated Spotify 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.
MANIFEST (zine) issue #15, WRITE,is on its ways to the printer and should mail sometime in June! I hope youโll consider supporting this creative project by subscribing today! Your subscription of $25.00 gets you the next 4 issues of MANIFEST (zine).
โI have a room all to myself; it is nature.โ โ Henry David Thoreau
Retracing my steps at Nauset BeachโฆLunch at Coast Guard BeachNauset LightNewcomb Hollow BeachDriving the loop at Province LandsA final sunset at Herring Cove
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting โ over and over announcing your place in the family of things.
Enjoyed a Poets in the Park Walk around Blackwater Pond with the National Park Service. This was poet Mary Oliver’s favorite place to contemplate nature and poetry.This was a long day that included a hike, shopping in Provincetown, Wicked Little Letters, and a late afternoon hike to Highland Light. This is the oldest and tallest lighthouse on Cape Cod.The view from Highland LightSunset at Herring Cove while watching whales breach in Cape Cod Bay
โHope is radical openness for surprise โ for the unimaginable. If that is the attitude with which we look, listen, and open all of our senses, we enter into a meaningful relationship with whatever Life offers us at a given moment.โย โ Brother David Steindl-Rast
A quiet walk at Head of the MeadowA good day to write, rest, read. Repeat.The gift of a rainbowโฆAnd sunset over Provincetown
โI began to make plans for what my future might beโwhat once felt like a mad dash to the end of a cliff now felt like an interesting path in a beautiful wood that may or may not lead to the top of a mountain. And yes, the chances of my arrival at that destination were uncertain, but oh! What a mountain! And oh! What a view! And what a pleasure it was to keep moving forward.โ โ Kelly Barnhill, When Women Were Dragons
Coast Guard Beach, Eastham
Sunset from Head of the Meadow, waiting for the MoonThe Frog Moon rises
โAnytime we approach a state of awe, we are in relationship with divinity. We are awake.โ โ The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Book
Sunrise on the first full dayTime and spaces to read, write, and regroup.Morning walk in Truo, Provincetown in the distance.Feeling very gratefulโฆFirst view of Nauset Beach in Orleans, my favorite beach.Much later in the day, sunset at Race Point Beach.Sun sets, moon risesโฆ
โEvery person needs to take one day away. A day in which one consciously separates the past from the future. Jobs, family, employers, and friends can exist one day without any one of us, and if our egos permit us to confess, they could exist eternally in our absence. Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions searched for. Each of us needs to withdraw from the cares which will not withdraw from us.โ โจ
โ Maya Angelou, Wouldnโt Take Nothing for My Journey Now
Playing on the radio at this very moment? Ace of Base, โI Saw the Sign.โ A good sign indeed!First look, Newcomb Hollow Beach
Dear Maya: one also needs provisions.
Water to my east and westโฆperfect views, perfect spot!Feeling right at home.
In celebration of my blogโs 14th Anniversary, I offer you these 14 Fun Facts about Random Acts of Writingโฆ
1. Random Acts of Writing is followed by more than 1,700 people around the world, including my high school English teacher who reminded me, early on, that it was important to keep my writing universal so more people could understand and appreciate it.
2. In total, there have been close to 37,000 visits to Random Acts of Writing and more than 110,000 distinct views since 2010.
3. According to WordPress, most folks like to read the blog on Mondays at 11:00 a.m. Thatโsโฆrandom.
5. Travel is often featured here on Random Acts of Writing, with frequent posts about Texas, France, Cape Cod, day trips, and the awesomeness that is the American Road Trip.
6. Alice in Wonderland makes regular visits to this blog, as do Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, and my Dad. But it was Gene Kelly who starred in the opening number back in 2010.
7. As a graphic designer as well as a writer, I know the importance of images. Thatโs why there have been more than 3,000 images posted, including famous and obscure artwork and original photography.
8. Random Acts of Writing is a fifth generation creative effort that has its roots in the 1980s zine culture. The Latest News was its first incarnation, which I published from 1989 – 1996.
9. It turns out, I am an internet research geek. Many of the posts you read are infused with details from Google Books, Wiki Art, the Library of Congress, Wikipedia, Bible Hub, and Quote Investigator. I once spent four totally nerdy hours on Google Patents and had to stop because my mouse hand cramped up.
10. The intention of Random Acts of Writing has shape-shifted over the years, but its most-talked-about topics include creativity, books, nature, spirituality, and poetry.
11. Every April since 2015, I have attempted to write a poem a day for National Poetry Month. You can see all of the results here.
12. All of that writing โ more than 2,000 posts โ led to the publication of four books: LOOK UP! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness, Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind, Waiting Out the Storm, and Water Under the Bridge: A Sort of Love Story.
13. All of that writing has also fed my quarterly publication called MANIFEST (zine) and my new book, Sleeping with Ghosts, coming out this fall!
14. This is the 14th time I have written an anniversary post, each of which has ended with gratitude to YOU, my readers, for your Comments, your Likes, and your support since 2010. It has been a blessing to share this journey and this ongoing conversation with you.
Three Chairs Publishing is psyched to present MANIFEST (zine) issue #14: You Mean a Woman Can Open It?
As a woman born in the late 60s, thereโs never been any question that I can be whatever I want to be. Itโs what my parents and teachers taught me. Itโs what my role models in the 70s and 80s demonstrated for me โ Mary Tyler Moore, Marlo Thomas, Judy Blume, Madeleine Blaise, Madonna, Jane Fonda. And itโs how Iโve lived my life since I was old enough to make my own decisions about things โ how I work and play, where I live and love, what I do and how. My own terms. My own expectations.
Of course, that doesnโt sit well with some folks. Mostly male folks of a certain genre. And there have always been attempts to keep me โin my placeโ โ verbally, physically, financially, and so forth. But like so many countless women, I have persevered and succeeded, despite the obstacles and objections.
YOU MEAN A WOMAN CAN OPEN IT? is in honor of ALL the women who can, who do, and who keep on doing โ who persist โ no matter what.
INGREDIENTS: collaged elements, color copies, color scans, digital art, ephemera, essays, original photographs, poetry, quotes, vintage artwork. With thanks to the voices of #metoo,ย Ruth Orkin, Man Ray, Augustin Pajou, Cรฉline (Melle-T), Bethany Armitage, Richard Freiherr von Krafft-Ebing, Carol Nicklaus, Elizabeth Warren, and Wonder Woman.
20-page, Full Color 5×7 booklet, free bookmark, and a curated Spotify playlist, Cost: $8.00 or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00.
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.
1. The Law of Attraction says that positive thoughts bring positive results into a personโs life, while negative thoughts bring negative outcomes.
and
2. Humans are unable to look away from a train wreck.
I point this out because there is energy in thought. And there is energy in where we put our focus. This is the concept behind prayer as much as the Law of Attraction.
I want to remind you of this โ remind all of us โ as we head into that contentious and energetic conflict we call Election Season.
Donald Trump and the MAGA zeitgeist is a train wreck of epic proportion, and itโs hard to look away. Itโs hard not to watch the video clips and stare at the headlines in agony; not to gasp, mock, or tremble with horror at the hypocrisy and hate spewing forth; not to share โlook what theyโre doing nowโ posts on social media.
Believe it or not, all of that โ those reactions โ are actually innate human responses. Watching disasters โ like staring at a car accident when you drive by, watching news broadcasts about tornadoes, or fixating on Trumpโs behavior โ triggers our survival instincts.
Our brains are wired to perceive potential danger, analyze and interpret the situation, decide if we should fight or flight.
And studies have shown that we are also prone to what is called โnegative bias.โ
One study published by the American Psychological Association found that we react to and learn more from our negative experiences than we do positive ones. โHumans are prone to negative bias and negative potency,โ explains psychologist Dr. Renee Carr. โNegative bias is the tendency to automatically give more attention to a negative event and negative information than positive information or events.โ(1)
This explains why we know more about Trumpโs criminal activities and abhorrent behaviors than we do about all of the good news in our country and around the world.
I bet you didnโt click on any of those links. Thatโs part of the negative bias. Weโre likely more interested in what other angry things I have to say about Trump than we are that deforestation is decreasing in the Amazon Rainforest, that formerly endangered species like the American bald eagle and the humpback whale are recovering, that thereโs a new malaria vaccine about to change the face of public health in Africa.(2)
Negative bias isnโt all bad. โThe healthy component of watching disasters is that it is a coping mechanism,โ says clinical psychologist Dr. John Mayer. โWe can become incubated emotionally by watching disasters and this helps us cope with hardships in our lives. Looking at disasters stimulates our empathy and we are programmed as humans to be empathetic โ it is a key psychosocial condition that makes us social human beings.โ(3)
But letโs come back to the Law of Attraction. As the book explains:
The Law of Attraction says: That which is like unto itself, is drawn.Whenyou say birds of a feather flock together, you are actually talking about the Law of Attraction. You see it evidenced when you wake up feeling unhappy, and then throughout the day things get worse and worseโฆ.You see the Law of Attraction evidenced in your society when you see that one who speaks most about illness has illness; when you see that the one who speaks most about prosperity has prosperity.(4)
We are what we think. We attract that on which we focus.
โAs you observe things on the television or in the newspaper, that, because you do not want them, make you feel negative emotion โ you hinder your allowance of what you do want.โ(5)
While that negative bias โ focusing on the negative โ is a good coping mechanism, it also means weโre investing our time and thoughts in seeing all of what is wrong and bad, and not what is good and possible. The negative gets all of the attention, and the algorithm of what we see and how we perceive things gets skewed.
So letโs bring this home โ to 2024 and the election season.
The more we focus on Trump and the tsunami of fear and hatred, the more our energy โ our emotional energy, our thought energy โ is projected in that direction. The more we think about something, the more we attract it. Not to mention the fact that the more we read his headlines and share his news, the more free air time and advertising weโre giving him and his campaign.
In an ideal world, there would be a setting to block how much Trump news shows on our feeds. Like Parental Controls, only maybe called Peace of Mind Controls?
Because the more bandwidth he gets, the less there is for headlines about all of the good things happening here in the U.S. and across the world. And the less we see and share the good news, the harder it is to have faith that things will get better, to have hope for our future as a country, and ultimately, as a race.
Think thereโs not enough good news to share? Then check out the Good News Network with positive and uplifting stories about conservation efforts, medical and scientific achievements, people making a difference, and all of the good things happening around the world and right here in the United States!
I remember the first time I was ever gobsmacked by art. Do you?
My WHOA! moment was back in the early 80s at Amherst Collegeโs Mead Art Museum. I was wandering one of the galleries clockwise and came first, unmoved, to Thomas Coleโs painting The Present showing a castle in ruins, abandoned and backlit by a sunrise or sunset. ย But it was his second painting, The Past, that stopped me in my tracks. It depicted the same castle and landscape, only at some mythical point in the past, broad daylight, with throngs of people and a jousting tournament in play.
I remember the paired paintings โ and my reaction to them โ vividly, to this day.
I love when art MOVES us like that. Makes us stop, gasp, internalize it. Carry it with us, decades later. For me, itโs Rodinโs Crouching Woman at the Hirschhorn Sculpture Garden in D.C., Canovaโs Psyche Revived by Cupidโs Kiss at the Louvre, Shepard Faireyโs Arab Woman at the ICA in Boston, Van Goghโs Starry Night at Yale.
With that same sense of a visceral experience, I spent several hours at the Yale Art Gallery again this weekend. Maybe it was the fact that it was my first time in a large museum since COVID, or that I spent the day with a friend who was equally enthralled and inspired by the energy of the space and the vast amount of famous and fantastic art โ but I left full up with awe and appreciation, and a deep gnawing urge to create something WHOA myself!
Here are some sights from the Galleryโฆ
Plato
Ceiling Tiles from Dura-Europos
Bodhisattva of Compassion, Guanyin
An Allegory of Intemperance, Hieronymus Bosch
Rooms by the Sea, Edward Hopper
Camden Hills From Bakers Island, Marsden Hartley
Sentinel I, Wangechi Mutu
Mayflower, Marisol
Portrait of Lynette Yiadom-Boakye, Jacob Morland of Capplethwaite, Kehinde Wiley
Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive, with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell, and when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough. ย โ William Saroyan, The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze
I knew it was coming. In that same way the slight rumble in the sky tells you thereโs a storm coming, the telltale first cough told me Sick was about to arrive.
It started on a Friday, early in the morning. By noon, I was enthusiastically coughing, by three, I was losing my voice and canceling dinner and weekend plans.
Dr. Google confirmed it was not one, RSV, and a COVID test outruled the other. ย So I gathered my potions โ wild cherry bark syrup, Throat Coatยฎ tea, slippery elm lozenges, magical immune support tablets โ and took to the couch.
Sick transformed pretty quicky into bronchitis. There were some days I swear I was about to meet a lung in person for all of the coughing. I sounded like a Muppet and, thanks to a round of pinkeye, looked like a zombie for most of December.
And while I missed the month-long fray of holidays activities, I also missed the month-long fray of holidays activities. Instead, I restedโฆa lot.
I took it easy. And I napped. And I slept. And I sat on the couch and read books. And I watched all eight of the Harry Potter movies (again). And then I slept, again.
Even Work took a back seat to Sick for the month. Lots of things did. But, it turns out, being sick was just what the doctor ordered.
In the past month, Iโve managed to reset my nervous system thatโs been in fight-or-flight mode for a very long time. I feel calm and centered in a way I have not since the quiet days of 2020.
I have not set my alarm clock since December 1, and my sleep routine feels balanced and healthy. It turns out, I need NINE hours of sleep, not six โ and if I allow it, my body sleeps and wakes in an easy natural rhythm.
If I allow it, I move around in an easy, natural rhythm, too. I remember this rhythm โ itโs the beat I dance to when Iโm on retreat or vacation, when I listen to my inner music that says: go for a long walk, you need a nap, take some time off.
I suspect we all need more rest than we allow ourselves. We all need more time on the couch with books and comfort movies. Now, in these precarious times more than ever.
Question: is it possible that the only resolution for 2024 is REST? ย
Iโve been doing the Goodreads Reading Challenge for 10 years now, and this is the sixth year Iโve successfully met my personal goal of reading 50 books โ 52 actually! This yearโs statistics, according to Goodreadsโ My Year in Books, included 14,328 pages read with an average book length of 276 pages. The shortest book, clocking in at 52 pages, was Marigold and Rose by Louise Glรผck, and the longest, at 676 pages, was Habibi, a gorgeous graphic novel by Craig Thompson.
Some of my highest rated books, with five stars, were also some of my favorites: From My Button Box: Collected Essays in a Pandemic Time (Judith Bruder), Leaving Time (Jodi Picoult), The Book of Longings (Sue Monk Kidd), The Invisible Hour (Alice Hoffman), Julia and the Shark and The Dance Tree (Kiran Millwood Hargrave), Frankenstein (Mary Shelley), The Book of Lost Names (Kristin Harmel), November 9 and Verity (Colleen Hoover), The Paris Library (Janet Skeslien Charles), and Other Birds (Sarah Addison Allen).
For better or for worse, I often find book inspiration from List Challenge, and I am so tempted to consider reading Rory Gilmoreโs Reading List or the 100 Books to Read Before You Die or Books to Read to Be Considered Well Read. But I much more prefer wandering the shelves at the library or following breadcrumbs from this book to the next.
My next pile for 2024 includes not so much books as authors. I want to read more Jodi Picoult because weโve only just met this year. Also Ann Patchett, John Green, and Isabel Allende.
How about you? What have you been reading lately? And what are you looking forward to in 2024?
โAll these migrants crossing the border! Theyโre destroying our country!โ she proclaims, just arrived from Christmas mass, where the whole congregation rejoiced the arrival of Jesus. The hypocrisy shocks me silent, my heart screaming โJesus was a migrant, for Christโs sake.โ The next chapter in this merry-making-gift-giving story includes his parentsโ flight from oppression, how they sought refuge in a foreign country to find a better life for their child. Or didnโt you read that far? Do your holiday prayers exclude empathy and compassion, do unto others, Matthew 25? Did you forget the ALL of the purpose of the child?
ยฉ2023, Jen Payne. IMAGE: Flight Into Egypt, by Henry Ossawa Tanner, 1923.
In these post-pandemic days with the black veil of politics, wars, mass shootings, and climate change draped over our collective humanity, I suspect we are all suffering, in some way, from what clinical psychologist and psychotherapist Dr. Scott Eilers, calls โambiguous grief.โ It’s the realization that something you always thought youโd have will never come to be, or mourning the loss of an alternate version of yourself โ or Your World โ that will never exist. This small zine touches on that big subject through seven poignant poems.
Color, mini booklet + Inserts and a curated Spotify playlist, Cost: $8.00or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00.
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.
I am sitting on my screen porch in the Love & Relationships bagua of my house eating Liangfen. Called โRice Bean Jelloโ on the menu, it is a bowl of delicate, translucent noodles served with cilantro and chili oil; a Sichuan dish sometimes called โheartbreaking jelly noodles.โ
If you feel sad or heartbreaking, go and taste it, then your sadness will go with the wind sinceit is too spicy, so that all the feeling you have is a spicy taste.
I ordered Liangfen for just this moment โ Sunday lunch on my screen porch and quiet meditations on Love & Relationships โ part of a mindful evaluation process a friend and I are working through this fall.
It is not surprising to me that the Love & Relationships bagua of my home โ the far right corner of the nine-squared feng shui map โ is a screen porch. A place where seasons come and go, where winds shift and conditions often change.
And so, the Liangfen and its intention to chase away sadness are good company as I take inventory of Love & Relationships, and honor all of the changes that line up in multiple columns on what I call my Loss List.
If I were more inspired, the Loss List could probably be one of those fancy word clouds, but for now itโs just a long list; the friends, clients, loves, acquaintances, advisors, and communities to which I am no longer attached. The people and places no longer part of my present โ or my future.
Sometimes, I want to point fingers, blame the pandemic, firmer boundaries, age and natural attrition, poor choices, humans. Other times, I just want someone to validate the losses with a giant YES stamp, I GET IT.
This is grief of course โ heavy, messy, capricious GRIEF that breezes in and out of my days like the unpredictable breezes from Long Island Sound.
And thereโs a lot of it โ like climate changing levels of grief. The kind that shifts the ground, floods your reserves, erodes hope. Orโฆmaybe itโs the kind that burns off the detritus in a blazing firestorm to eventually become beautiful new growth?
But Iโm not there yet.
Today, Iโm sitting on my screen porch enjoying the first chilly afternoon of fall, thereโs a hawk bearing witness to my tears, the cause of which is only this bowl of Liangfen โ just heartbreakingly spicy enough for a quiet reckoning.
Essay ยฉ2023, Jen Payne. Click here to read more from Jen. Click here for more on Liangfen from China Sichuan Food.
You know that good feeling you get when you eat dessert? Thatโs your brainโs reward system releasing dopamine. Researchers have shown that sweets rival sex and cocaine when it comes to dopamine triggers. Think about that.
Dessert โ itโs as good as sex!
That explains a lot, doesnโt it? Researchers have also found that sugar inhibits stress-induced cortisol secretion, minimizing feelings of anxiety and tension. Maybe thatโs why STRESSED Spelled Backwards Is DESSERTS!
Donโt miss this sweet issue of MANIFEST (zine) that includes results from the Get Your Just Desserts readersโ poll โ on Sale Now!
INGREDIENTS: collaged elements, color copies, color scans, digital art, ephemera, essays, hand-drawn fonts, laser prints, original photographs, paper cut illustrations, photography, poetry, quotes, rubber stamp art, vintage artwork. With special thanks to Alice, Isabella Beeton, TJ Buckley, Sara Midda, Arthur Murray, Marcel Proust, E. J. Stanley, John Tenniel, and Mary Berry who inspired the title of this issue.
20-page, full color 5×7 booklet + Inserts and a curated Spotify playlist, Cost: $8.00or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00.
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.
Itโs been five years since my dear, sweet friend Mary Anne Siok died. 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. I donโt say YES nearly enough, but I say it much more often because of her.
ย
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.
Though I have come to quickly despise the seduction of Facebookโs force-fed Reels feature, if I play it right, I get a delicious sequence of recipes and food things in my (literal) feed.
One such reel was a recipe by social media favorite and recipe developer Justine Doiron โ aka @Justine_Snacks โ called Crispy Lime Cabbage & Turmeric White Bean Mash.
The video, not the recipe name, is what caught my eye. Because cabbage? Kinda ewโฆor so I usually think. Until I watched the recipe and considered the flavors.
Then a quick Instacart shop and I was ready to test it out. Lots of ingredients, lots of stepsโฆbut the result? OMG, sooooo good!ย
So good, I ate is all week. You might too. Check it out!
This morning at 4, a tiny gray mouse looked up at me, somewhat frightened, and said โI-I-I think I took a wrong turn. I-I-I was supposed to go left but I went right and wha-wha-what is that orange creature scowling at me through the window?โ โShhhhh. Itโs OK,โ I whispered. โPlease don’t be scared. Just turn around slowly and go back the way you came. That’s always best when you get a bit lost. Look for something familiar and hold on a while, take a nap, then try again when youโre back to feeling brave. It always works for me.โ
ยฉ2023, Jen Payne. Image from Beatrix Potter: The Picture Letters, Cotsen Children’s Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections , Princeton University Library
Todayโs warm breeze is not the first sign, of course, it started weeks ago when the clocks moved forward and the sun shifted, when I folded my favorite sweater for the last time and the wide windows welcomed the cacophony of spring sounds โ motorbikes, lawnmowers, chainsaws, barking dogs, the hammering, hammering, hammering โ soon the shimmery waves of heat will rise from the pavement, the mass throngs of people will congest on sidewalks, beaches, street corners, town parks, the hallowed trail I call Heaven, and the endless days will unfold hour by hot, humid, buggy hour while I stock up on iced things, hoard stacks of library books, move to the cooler part of the house, give praise to the window machine beneath which Iโll spend the months dreaming of those long and silent winter days, their fertile ground for contemplation and undisturbed peace.
Aestivation is a state of animal dormancy, similar to hibernation, although taking place in the summer rather than the winter. It is characterized by inactivity and a lowered metabolic rate, that is entered in response to high temperatures and arid conditions. Image: Snailhouse by Raiskina Marina. Poem ยฉ2023, Jen Payne.
I may as well be invisible in this library of ghosts only the manager sees me tells me I am early motions to the chairs by sunlit windows where flowers bloom my shadow cast long against the dusty floor it, the only other notice of my presenceโฆ conversations collide around me old friends embrace offer bouquets of smiles brush past without excuse so I step back, meditate on book spines pretend they are company enough until the show begins and I listen to stories and laughter my chair rocking slow โ I bet they think its haunted.
Issue #1 – Thereโs No Such Thing as the Poop Fairy: 5 Things to Remember When You Walk in the Woods
People love the nature preserve where I often walk. Who wouldnโt? Its wide, criss-crossing trails offer welcome views of the woods and ponds and wildlife. Itโs easy to forget that the busiest highway on the east coast is less than a mile away. Itโs easy to forget the busy-ness of life in general โ work and the To Do list and all the other mind clutter fade away when we spend time outdoors.
Unfortunately, as much as people love being out in nature, itโs hard to overlook the general disrespect many show for our protected natural spaces.
Just last week, on a brisk mile walk along my favorite trail, I spotted twelve discarded bags of dog poop. Twelve. Thatโs a poop bag about every 300 steps.
Some are tossed high and land on branches, like decorations. Some are tucked into hidey holes โ knots in trees, crevices between rocks. But most of them are just set down along the side of the trail โ as if someone is going to come by later and pick them all up. Abracadabra!
It makes me want to scream!
The thing is, once you start paying attention to them โ once you start being angry about them โ you start to see other things. The coffee cups, the nip bottles, the COVID masks, the dental flossers. The orange peels and apple cores. The Christmas ornaments and painted rocks, and similar garbage and graffiti.
Thereโs No Such Thing as the Poop Fairy: 5 Things to Remember When You Walk in the Woods was inspired by all of that. It’s a response that offers simple solutions: don’t litter, respect nature and wildlife, don’t leave your poop on the side of the trail.
At the end of the day, there is no magical creature โ winged, wand waving, or white bearded โ who is going to take care of the mess we keep leaving. Itโs up to us.
Get your copy of the mini-zine Thereโs No Such Thing as the Poop Fairy: 5 Things to Remember When You Walk in the Woods today! $3.00 includes shipping.
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.
Last night I dreamt of my grandmother. She was sitting next to my dad toasting champagne in a luncheonette on Broad Street. You know, the kind with leather stools spinning around a counter and formica tables? I knew she’d be waiting, but the front door was locked, so I found a back entrance, pushed past the steel workers having lunch and ran to her. My heart was so full it felt like I was drowning, swallowing air and love; racing towards that hug that almost knocked us off our feet, her arms as tight as mine, holding on โtil morning.
Not that long ago, at mile marker 86.5 near East Lymeโs Pattagansett River, you could pull off the highway into a small dirt turnout, grab a container from your trunk, and fill it to the brim with cold, fresh water pouring from a natural spring. The spring was pretty popular. Youโd always see a car or two parked precariously on the side of the road โ traffic slowing more for the incline of the hill ahead than the waterseekers themselves. Itโs gone now, save for the old turnout, replaced by a cement culvert, its condo complex runoff too foul for thirst.
Harry Anderson saved my life. At least thatโs what my wide-eyed younger self remembers. The man had a gun, after all. I saw it as he paid for his coffee, hitched up under his arm. I was working the overnight, back when a girl could do that on her own. And besides, the cops watched out for me. Thatโs why I called them. Harry was there in minutes. Dragged the man to the parking lot. Discharged the gun in a moment of midlife bravado that almost got him fired. I never forgot it โ overfilled his apple fritters every time thereafter.
MANIFEST (zine) Consider a Gift Subscription. Itโs a one-of-a-kind gift idea for the holidays!
Imagine a magazine thatโs like a mini art installation. Each issue is filled with unexpected images and creative rabbit holes, poetry, quotes, a curated Spotify playlist, and so much more!ย
$25.00
Gift subscriptions include a custom holiday greeting/gift acknowledgement and four printed issues of MANIFEST (zine) starting with the Winter 2023 issue,ย Great & Small.
A Gift Subscription to MANIFEST (zine) is a one-of-a-kind gift idea for the holidays!
Itโs like sending a mini art installation that features interesting images and creative rabbit holes, quotes, poetry, a curated Spotify playlist. Layered with colors, textures, meanings (and music), the result is a thought-full, tactile journey with nooks and crannies to discover along the way. Gift subscriptions cost $25.00 include a custom holiday greeting/gift acknowledgement and four printed issues of MANIFEST (zine) starting with our upcoming winter issue, Great & Small.
Visit our Etsy Shop to order individual issues as gifts or stocking stuffers. Each costs $8.00, which includes some cool extras and shipping. (Each Etsy listing includes a sneak preview video.)
Perfect for the book lover in your life, consider giving a book from Three Chairs Publishing. Each comes signed by the author with a few creative extras.
Looking for a festive shopping experience? Then be sure to visit the Holiday Expo at Guilford Art Center (411 Church Street, Guilford). Youโll find many of our Three Chairs Publishing creations on display, along with ceramics, pottery, glass, jewelry, homewares, fiber art, ornaments, accessories, toys, specialty foods, stationery, leather goods and more. More than 200 American artists, makers and designers are featured in this yearโs event. Click here for more information.
Thank you for your support!
Just like shopping local during the holidays, shopping at Three Chairs Publishingโs online shop has ripple effects. Your purchases help to support the women-owned printing company that prints our books, the locally-owned print shops that print our marketing materials, and the U.S. Postal Service which reliably delivers our products to your doorstep. You also help the self-employed editors, proofreaders, typesetters, artists, and tech support folks who help turn my ideas into things I can put into your hands to enjoy.
๏ปฟFor all of that, and your continued support of my creative work, thank you. Happy Holidays! โ JEN PAYNE
This past year has been a whirlwind for my little publishing imprint, Three Chairs Publishing. In February, I published my fourth book, Water Under the Bridge: A Sort-of Love Story. It kicked off with a warm welcome at the Guilford Art Center on Valentineโs weekend, and was featured by the Independent Book Review as part of โ45 Books Weโre Excited About from Indie Presses & Indie Authors.โ
Close to my heart has been my zine project, MANIFEST (zine). I created five issues this year โ Water, Endemic, Heroically Found, and The Lola Poems โ each with a different tone and theme. I think thatโs what I love most about the zine format. It allows my creative voice to speak its peace โ maybe loud, maybe sweet, maybe rambling โ hopefully always interesting.
Participation in THE EXCHANGE this past fall introduced my work to a new audience, as did a mention in the 25th anniversary issue of Broken Pencil magazine and reviews by Ken Bausert and Silver Nyx. My writing was included in Sunspot Literary Journalโs Geminga 2022 Contest for Tiny Prose, Poem, or Art, the Connecticut Bards Poetry Review 2022, and the Poetry Instituteโs zine Circumference. Good stuff, right?
This Thanksgiving, I find myself thinking about good stuff like that, and about all of the people who have supported my work in 2022โฆfrom my regular zine subscribers and the folks who bought my books, to the staff at the Guilford Art Center and the Blackstone Library.
I would be remiss if I didnโt mention the ongoing influence of my friend and mentor, author Dale Carlson, who passed away in January. And I am ever grateful for my ongoing creative conversations with Judith Bruder, Tara Buckley, Joy Bush, Laure Noe, and Mary OโConnor.
If youโre reading this, I am grateful for you, too! I could not do what I do without your kind and generous audience. Thank you.
I am always inspired by those life moments that move us most โ love and loss, joy and disappointment, milestones and turning points. When Iโm not exploring our connections with one another, I enjoy writing about our relationships with nature, creativity, and mindfulness, and how these offer the clearest path to finding balance in our frenetic, spinning world.
Very often, my writing is accompanied by photography and artwork. As both a graphic designer and writer, I think partnering visuals and words layers the intentions of my work, and makes the communication more palpable. I hope you will agree!
โI have lived with several Zen masters โ all of them cats,โ writes Eckhart Tolle in his book The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. โWatch any plant or animal and let it teach you acceptance of what is, surrender to the Now. Let it teach you Being. Let it teach you integrity โwhich means to be one, to be yourself, to be real. Let it teach you how to live and how to die, and how not to make living and dying into a problem.โ
THE LOLA POEMS is a limited edition, memorial issue of MANIFEST (zine) that honors the passing of my own little Zen master, Lola, by considering the lessons she taught me in our time together.
16-page, 4.25 x 5.5 booklet, Cost: $8.00or subscribe and get 4 issues for $25.00.
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.
I slept on a cot near my grandmotherโs bed in a room that smelled like eucalyptus. The aluminum frame squeaked when I moved, despite my small size and efforts to keep quiet. My grandfather slept in the adjoining room, his presence as unnerving as the Jesus portrait on the wall. The story goes he woke her once with a pitcher of water, threw it on the bed so she’d make his breakfast. I wonder if the train whistle ever disturbed him, pulled him down the tracks to the steel mill, back to the stacks and hot slag where he belonged.
Of course you were the one to call. It was late, I remember, a rainy night like the last time we met. Cars on the wet, weathered pavement, wipers marking time. Starshine in puddles and you, light years away, saying you knew Iโd want to know, knew heโd been important. You knew despite the distance in our orbits, despite our final kiss that birthed a galaxy between us. My heart. You knew.
Some days, I feel like the girl in the tub with the fish in the comedy show hitting so close to home but so far out in left field that eating popcorn while I watch doesn’t seem nearly as awful as eating chicken wings during an episode of Criminal Minds. Me and my dying cat curled up on the floor, my hand stroking her tail โ and only her tail because otherwise she thinks I’m about to stick another pill down her throat and sheโll run to hide from me. Itโs a terrible thing when a part of your heart runs and hides from you, but I donโt blame her. She likes me best now in the mornings, too tired and stiff for any chase. Instead we curl up, like the girl and the fish in the tub, floating there in the early morning hours as if nothing will ever change.
ยฉ2022, Jen Payne. Scene from Huluโs Life & Beth.
When I come back in my next life I want to be an artist AND I want to work at Quimbyโs in Chicago. Quimbyโs is an independently owned bookstore that sells independently-published and small press books, comics, zines and ephemera. They favor the unusual, the aberrant, the saucy and the lowbrow โ and they are super enthusiastic about what they do!
Since Iโm not dead yet, then I just have to enjoy Quimbyโs vicariously through their website and weekly โNew Stuff Saturday Livestream.โ Check it out!
BONUS: If you watch the recent New Stuff Saturday and stay tuned to timestamp 20:20, youโll notice a couple of familiar things in the pile: Manifest (zine) and Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind.
Thatโs right, as of now, several of Three Chairs Publishingโs creations are for sale at Quimbyโs. Get your butt to Chicago nowโฆ
Now that youโve been learning about zines all month, are you thinking of making your own? On her website on โHooked to Books,โ Grace Plant suggests How to Make a Zine in 10 Easy Steps: Decide on your theme Choose a name Plan your features Choose a format Use a template Print a master copy [โฆ]
I have a confession to make. For the past six months, I have been disappearing down a rabbit hole, crawling to the backside of the wardrobe, hitching a ride on a tornadoโฆand making my way to the empire of Une Belle Ville.
It started innocently enough โ my nephew on his tablet in the backseat on our way home from an adventure.
โWhatโs that?โ I asked, hearing huzzahs and sing-song chimes.
โForge of Empires,โ he said.
โA video game?โ
โYea, itโs cool. You build a city by collecting resources and building an army. Iโm in the Stone Age still.โ
When we got home, we sat on the couch together and he showed me his city. Just a few random huts, some dirt trails, an obelisk โ but it had me at sing-song. So I loaded it on my iphone and away we went, my nephew and me sharing our cities and achievements.
โIโm in the Iron Age!โ he announced.
โMe, too!โ
โYou caught up with me. I have three archers!โ
โI built a fruit farm!โ
We went on like this for a few weeks, comparing notes as we played dueling technologies. And then one day, I started hearing zap-zap-zap and kaboom instead of huzzah and sing-song, sing-song.
โWhat age are you in now?โ I asked, curiously.
โIโm playing Minecraft.โ
โNot Forge of Empire?โ
โNo. It was too boring. This is better, seeโฆโ
And so our paths diverged. He and his kabooms went one way, and I skipped along with my huzzahs from the Bronze age straight on through to the Industrial.
Ok, maybe it seems a little silly. Itโs also one of those nefarious escape mechanisms that gets you strung out on dopamine. ย But given the state of the world (and the state of my family of late)? Iโm all in for an extra hit of dopamine thank you very much.
The funny thing is, my city โ Une Belle Ville โ is exactly the kind of place Iโd like to spend my time if the rabbit hole jumping, wardrobe crawling, tornado clinging thing actually worked. My fellow villagers and I rank high in enthusiasm and participate happily as members of the local Guild. We trade instead of battle, we polish instead of plunder, we explore the world and give aid when we can. We have lots of trees and gardens, a rosarium and a butterfly house. Thereโs a mountain preserve, a Celtic farmstead, and a vineyard. We can see the Oracle of Delphi, the Arc de Triomphe, the Lighthouse of Alexandria, Notre Dame, and a Statue of Zeus all in an afternoonโs walk. We can visit the zoo, laugh on the ferris wheel, take a hot air balloon ride, or climb the steps of the Observatory to see the stars.
So far, Iโve built a paper mill, am working towards a print shop, and look forward to the day I can build a library for my city, because we all need books, donโt we? Those other things that give us a beautiful out, an โIโll be right backโ excuse to leave the 21st century messes and remember whatโs possible with a little bit of imagination and some escapism-flavored dopamine. Huzzah!
