I've just returned from 3 glorious weeks at the Atlantic Center for the Arts where I spent my days with lizards, carpenter bees, giant spiders, armadillos, and, oh, yeah, over 20 of the coolest visual artists, poets, and musicians I have ever met. Once my website is up and running again (having been down for over a month now), I'll post photos and some poems as well. Let me just say that the experience was heart-bursting, mind-widening and all around amazing for me, both as a poet and as a human being. Whew! I'm still having a bit of depression around all those fantastic poets, visual artists, and musicians not living down the street from me. I can't walk 5 minutes and have a cup of tea with each of them whenever I want? Justice? I think not.
The residency was thick with Southern air, a bit of heat (in the form of early morning chili pasta, the usual weather variety, and smokin' music, poetry, and art) and the sound of creatures greeting spring. I've been writing non-stop since I returned home. Everyone was so incredibly inspiring, both in how they live their lives with such artistic intention and how they create. So many of them have choosen a life where their central focus is their art. My writer and musician friends here in Colorado almost all have full-time jobs and "fit" their art in, but the ACA crew were, by and large, composed of people who do the opposite. Completely fantastic. I'm even thinking of cutting back on my cooking clients a bit, so I can begin to make my own artistic switch.
I'm still a bit raw with the buzz of those 3 magical weeks, but mostly what I feel is hope--for art, for truly seeing other people for the beautiful ones they are, for the ability to create meaning out of the chaotic stew we are all thrown into. I'm hoping I will continue to feed this fire in my chest, to make and make and make and never tire of it.
