Bounty: Southern VT

Bounty: Southern VT


I wanted to share some of the nourishing fall programs & events happening in our area of Southern Vermont (and online.)

First, my longtime friend/artist/mystic Jess Weitz is offering two online programs: Inner Landscapes: exploring our psyche through the landscape and Archetypal Doll Making, the latter also in person at the River Gallery School where Jess leads Art & Meditation classes as well as daylong retreats.

Secondly, in addition to her weekly WORD CAFÉ gatherings in downtown Brattleboro, my gentle, soulful & talented neighbor Robin Marie MacArthur is offering a 6-week Fall Writing Workshop for poets, fiction & non-fiction writers which she describes as (and to which I can attest) “supportive, encouraging and semi-formal.” www.wordhousebrattleboro.com

Lastly, our esteemed teacher & dear family friend Scott Willis is offering his Hits The Spot Yoga Teacher Training/Immersion Program in 2019-20 which was for me (in 2012), a touchstone during a time of radical personal change & opportunity. Scott’s mastery, style, humor & compassion continue to inspire my personal practice & teaching.

We are so fortunate to have the depth & breadth of artistry, creativity & service in our area. When you enroll online or in-person for an ongoing class (or travel for a single-day event), it’s a win-win-win. You support an artist/teacher, they, in turn, support you, while the work that is shaped–on the mat, on the page, on the canvass–nourishes consciousness, connection & community.

Yours in abundance & gratitude,

Kelly

Links:

Jess Weitz, River Gallery Art School
Robin MacArthur, Wordhouse
Scott Willis, Hits the Spot Yoga

and on the coast in Maine, former Vermont neighbor/author/friend:

Jodi Paloni, Maine Coast Writers Retreats
…Sweater-weather writing workshop, (leaning) into moments of nature, exploring the narrative of place, how outer landscape can mirror the inner landscape of our narrators, how setting can be leveraged to evoke an atmospheric tone in our poems and prose. We’ll write about the beauty we see before us and the grief we experience when we remember what’s at stake for our beloved planet. We’ll walk the magical coastal trails for peace of mind, healing ritual, and creative self-care. A hearty harvest menu will shore us for our forays.”

 

 

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And Then There Was Light

And Then There Was Light

Just before Christmas, our small town in Southern Vermont was the center of a magical and destructive ice storm leaving us without power for seven days.

By the sixth day, I hit ROCK bottom and packed up my family up for a hotel–twenty minutes away.  There we reveled in electric lighting, showers–and most of all–flushing toilets.  This poem was written in a moment of delirium when we arrived back at our home the following day.


And Then There Was Light


And on the seventh day we rose

from the comfort of the HOLIDAY Inn

and climbed back to the heights of Marlboro

And there at the mouth of our road

we came upon men of GOOD will,

wearing hard hats beneath BRIGHT trucks.

And our mouths fell silent

of the PRAISE we had intended to spread

upon this long-awaited sight

And they hung there open

as we ascended MacArthur

SEEKING at each crossing

the familiar toppled tree or strewn line

only to discover…

NONE!

And with great ANTICIPATION,

we turned up our drive,

scanning our home

for any SIGN,

And stepping into our mudroom

giddily flipped the switch,

only to find…

NOTHING!

But just as we wearily lifted our bags

up the dark and dirtied stairs,

an unusual sound was heard.

And we looked at each other

concerned

And then turned toward the stove to SEE

great NUMBERS flashing

and exclaimed in bewildered WONDER

THE POWER IS ON!

THE POWER IS ON!”

And without flushing toilets

or filling refrigerators

or washing mounds of dishes,

We flew to the porch

with pots and pans

to send out our JOYFUL wishes.

We whistled and whooped

and rang out GREAT JOY

To the gentlemen of CVPS

and all other electric crews NATIONS.

Who knew that a week before Christmas

could bring such GLEE

as we turned on the carols

and welcomed

each LIGHT

on the tree.

Kelly Salasin, 2008

To read Kelly’s posts about the Ice Storm of 2008, before the glee, click the links below:

Cat Scan 3:00 a.m.

Survivor Sours