Kiss the Ground: Wonderfully inspiring and empowering movie about climate change. Free to watch on Netflix

I saw this last weekend at a watch party in Taos and was pleased to learn about carbon sequestering and find hope about saving our planet. Josh and Rebecca Tickell did an amazing job directing and bringing in excellent authorities to explain and educate. Beautiful documentary. Click here to stream free on Netflix. Click here to visit the site and find out how to take action.

Geraniums

Now, years later,

it’s the small things

that devastate

defiant red

geranium petals shivering

frail and stubborn

in summer wind

that shakes their pithy stalks

others balance above,

already black or wilting pink

but holding on

the way my six-year-old niece

I haven’t seen since Christmas

hefts plastic bags sagging with weight

of milk and nectarines,

strips of handles biting into

her determined fingers

as she looks up at me

and says with utmost gravity

“I lost two teeth”

frowns down her lip to reveal

the gap between

where adult tooth’s jagged line

white enamel peaks

emerge from red ridge of

tissue-cushioned bone

the way today as I swam

in water that never refuses

my body with its heart’s pain

both niece and nephew crowded

toward me sputtering laughter  

attacking with their water guns

so that

I remembered what a

good mother I once was

and how I loved it

then

when three sons

were all still mine.

So today sadness

swims inside me

so that I look on,

its depth

and weight still surprising.

But now I know there is nothing

to do

but let it

flood and swirl

unchecked

unstoppered

rising

until everything is saturated

and the levels

drop and

it drains away again.

— Catharine H. Murray, 2013

On Halloween, a time when creativity and self-expression are at play, consider joining the next round of LITTLE FRANKENSTEINS.

This time of year marks the beginning of turning toward the fertile ground of winter darkness to delve into the richness of our own creativity. Celebrate your own process by joining LITTLE FRANKENSTEINS , the prose and poetry online workshop Sarah Carson and I are teaching together Fridays from 1 – 3 PM EST. There are still a few spots left in this 5-week series beginning this week on November 3rd.

This small group workshop class focusses on the short form, with one form assigned each week to help you create a piece of prose or poetry to bring to class the following week for revision and improvement. During the first five weeks, I have been impressed by the way this format allows for surprisingly creative and compelling pieces of writing to come into the light.

I hope you will join this lovely group of writers. For more information and to register, click HERE.

Feel free to contact me with questions about the class.

AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Featured Writer: Beth Ayotte

Beth writes:

My first experience with creative writing happened during my participation in the annual USM
Stonecoast Writers’ Conference in 2004. I submitted a journal entry at the time, not knowing
what literary genre my composition fell into. I knew it wasn’t fiction, a novel, or a play, so I
dubbed it creative nonfiction. Since then, my work has appeared in the LLI Review, a journal of
the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute, and Down East Magazine. For the last three years, the
support and encouragement from Catharine and my colleagues in a Zoom memoir class has been
amazing. So much so that I’m currently writing a memoir about my late son Sam, an accomplished ski racer, who died in an accident during a Make A Wish fundraising competition at Wildcat Mountain..

Click the link below to read “A Whiff of You”, Beth’s essay about motherhood, memory and grief.

September Dawn

I could not sleep.

I lay still and wondered why

I ate too much last night. I read too much.

Tried to stop my mind

sink into sensation of heavy limbs and body’s warmth

no use against these currents sweeping me upstream

whirling pools of worry to devastate my rest.

Perhaps it is not too early to get up.

I shake off heavy blankets of late summer

stand up and walk to the door to push

to feel the familiar click that gives way to opening,

and step into September dawn.

Treasures of light spread wide

before me like sudden gifts

Rosy pinks fall into soothing blues as

the sun prepares to anoint me with her light.

Dark spines of needled pines pierce gauzy mist .

And I walk down to water’s edge to

receive

this sacrament of sunrise.

—Catharine H. Murray