Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 29th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem How to Be a Poet by Wendell Berry, posted below. 

Our prompt was: What comes from the silence…

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday August 5th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions


How to Be a Poet by Wendell Berry

(to remind myself)
i   

Make a place to sit down.   
Sit down. Be quiet.   
You must depend upon   
affection, reading, knowledge,   
skill—more of each   
than you have—inspiration,   
work, growing older, patience,   
for patience joins time   
to eternity. Any readers   
who like your poems,   
doubt their judgment.   

ii   

Breathe with unconditional breath   
the unconditioned air.   
Shun electric wire.   
Communicate slowly. Live   
a three-dimensioned life;   
stay away from screens.   
Stay away from anything   
that obscures the place it is in.   
There are no unsacred places;   
there are only sacred places   
and desecrated places.   

iii   

Accept what comes from silence.   
Make the best you can of it.   
Of the little words that come   
out of the silence, like prayers   
prayed back to the one who prays,   
make a poem that does not disturb   
the silence from which it came.

Source: Poetry (Poetry)
-Rita Basuray, visual response to today’s prompt!

Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EDT July 25th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

Twenty-five participants gathered from various locations to read and discuss “The First Fish” from Ada Limón’s 2022 collection The Hurting KindWe discussed how the word “[f]irst” (appearing in the title) indicates an important event. The poem’s speaker, calling herself “a barbarous girl”, recounts catching a fish with a gold circled black eye and “terrible mouth” in order to be called brave. Participants saw the situation as one in which the girl lacks power; the narrator now as a woman reflecting on the experience with regret.   

Later, four participants read aloud their responses to the prompt “Write about a first catch” and captured the group’s attention with accounts of: refusing to accept the doctor who her father saw as a “catch” and catching a theoretical physicist instead; catching a cold, which was feared to be COVID and being “voted off the island”; witnessing one’s self as being “the first catch”; and fishing as a child and wishing to ride away on the back of the fish that got away.   

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday July 29th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


The First Fish from The Hurting Kind by Ada Limón

When I pulled that great fish up out of Lake Skinner’s
		mirrored-double surface, I wanted to release 
	the tugging beast immediately. Disaster on the rod,
		it seemed he might yank the whole aluminum skiff
	down toward the bottom of his breathless world.
		The old tree of a man yelled to hang on and would
	not help me as I reeled and reeled, finally seeing 
		the black carp come up to meet me, black eye 
	to black eye. In the white cooler it looked so impossible.
		Is this where I am supposed to apologize? Not 
	only to the fish, but to the whole lake, land, not only for me
		but for the generations of plunder and vanish.
	I remember his terrible mouth opening as if to swallow
		the barbarous girl he’d lose his life to. The gold-ringed
	eye did not pardon me, no absolution, no reprieve.
		I wanted to catch something; it wanted to live.
	We never are the bottom-feeder, buried by the rosebush
		where my ancestors swore the roses bloomed
	twice as big that year, the year I killed a thing because
		I was told to, the year I met my twin and buried
	him without weeping so I could be called brave.   

Credit: Limón, Ada. “The First Fish.” The Hurting Kind. (2022) Minneapolis, MN: Milkweed Editions.

Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 22nd 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem Stars by Marjorie Pickthall, and took a close look at a James Webb image Cosmic Cliffs, posted below. 

Our prompt was: “Write about looking up.

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Monday July 25th at 6pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


 Stars by Marjorie Pickthall

Now in the West the slender moon lies low, 
And now Orion glimmers through the trees, 
Clearing the earth with even pace and slow, 
And now the stately-moving Pleiades, 
In that soft infinite darkness overhead 
Hang jewel-wise upon a silver thread. 

And all the lonelier stars that have their place, 
Calm lamps within the distant southern sky, 
And planet-dust upon the edge of space, 
Look down upon the fretful world, and I 
Look up to outer vastness unafraid 
And see the stars which sang when earth was made. 

James Webb image Cosmic Cliffs

Credit: NASA.gov


Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 20th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we look a close look at the art piece When Fire is Applied to a Stone, It Cracks by Jeffrey Gibson, posted below. 

Our prompt was: When fire is applied…

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday July 22nd at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


When Fire is Applied to a Stone, It Cracks by Jeffrey Gibson

Credit: http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/jeffrey_gibson


Encuentros virtuales en vivo: Sábado 16 de Julio, 13:00 EDT

Nos reunimos 9 personas, desde Nueva York, California, Argentina, España e Italia. Trabajamos el relato corto “El Drama del Desencantado,” de Gabriel García Márquez. 

El microcuento relata el desarrollo de un suicidio. No sabemos por qué lo hizo, no lo cuenta. Llama la atención el uso de la metáfora “la puerta falsa”. Ha elegido morir de un modo que lo acerca a la vida de los demás. No sabemos cuántas cosas vio de la vida de los otros, pero aprendió que la vida vale la pena de ser vivida justo antes de morir. 

El cuento tiene un mensaje: el autor juzga/critica el suicidio de esta persona. Pero detrás de los suicidios hay tanto sufrimiento que da la impresión de que lo trivializa. Llama la atención como el narrador habla como si conociera todo lo que piensa el protagonista, pero a la vez sabemos que es imposible, el protagonista está muerto.

El texto es breve, solo una frase. Pero el texto está lleno de palabras fuertes. Contrastan las experiencias finitas (tragedia y comedia son fugaces) con lo definitivo de la muerte. Se mencionó el concepto de intrahistoria de Unamuno: las historias pequeñas que existen escondidas a los ojos de los demás. El protagonista tiene una revelación. Hay todo un periplo vital en una peripecia dramática.

La palabra drama recuerda al teatro. Pero en este texto no está la primera parte, no sabemos de dónde viene el desencanto, tenemos que suponerlo. El texto recuerda que solo son necesarios breves instantes de felicidad. 

Un participante considera que en el propio texto se explica el motivo del suicidio: las pequeñas tragedias. El protagonista descubre que sus pequeñas tragedias, las que le llevan al suicidio, son las mismas que tienen los demás. El texto tan corto nos cuenta todo: la introducción y el nudo están en el texto. Por eso puede arrepentirse, su causa es igual a las de las demás.

El texto está escrito en una sola frase, pero expresa que la forma y el contenido son lo mismo. La caída es un proceso sin puntos, sin paradas. La forma refuerza el contenido. Cuenta un error que no puede arreglar, no puede arrepentirse. El drama es conocer cuando ya no puede cambiar. Gabriel García Márquez critica el acto del suicidio e impresiona que puede estar frivolizando. Es un texto lleno de capas y matices. ¿El texto cuestiona la libertad de matarse o es que nadie es libre?

¿Pone el narrador sus palabras en el personaje? ¿Emite un juicio? Si no quisiera hacerlo, podría haberlo escrito en primera persona.  Es importante quién es el narrador, quien cuenta la historia.

La propuesta de escritura fue “Escribe sobre un momento en que cambió tu concepción del mundo”.Se ha escrito de como desconocemos la realidad del otro y asumimos que la realidad de los demás es nuestra realidad. Y la realidad cambia en cada momento. Se escribe sobre los descubrimientos de otras realidades y nuestros propios descubrimientos. Sobre la imposibilidad de dejar de cambiar y como el único cambio es el que ocurre al final de la vida. La importancia de las múltiples perspectivas. Escribimos a la sombra del texto y de las reflexiones que hicimos sobre él.

Aquí, ahora alentamos a los participantes que si así lo desean, compartan lo que escribieron a continuación. Deja tu respuesta aquí, si deseas continuar la conversación sobre el poema de León Felipe. Pero antes, les recomendamos tener en cuenta que el blog es un espacio público donde, por supuesto, no se garantiza la confidencialidad.

Por favor, únase a nosotros en nuestra próxima sesión en español: El sábado 6 agosto a las 13 hrs. o a la 1 pm EDT. También, ofrecemos sesiones en inglés. Ve a nuestra página de sesiones grupales virtuales en vivo.

¡Esperamos verte pronto!


El drama del desencantado por Gabriel García Márquez

 …El drama del desencantado que se 
arrojó a la calle desde el décimo piso, y 
a medida que caía iba viendo a través 
de las ventanas la intimidad de sus 
vecinos, las pequeñas tragedias 
domésticas, los amores furtivos, los 
breves instantes de felicidad, cuyas 
noticias no habían llegado nunca hasta 
la escalera común, de modo que en el 
instante de reventarse contra el
 pavimento de la calle había cambiado 
por completo su concepción del mundo, 
y había llegado a la conclusión de que 
aquella vida que abandonaba para
siempre por la puerta falsa valía la pena 
de ser vivida.

Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 15th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem The Dog Star by Tom Billsborough, posted below. 

Our prompt was: Write about a ceremony of renewal.

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Wednesday July 20th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


The Dog Star by Tom Billsborough

Sirius rising, seed of power..

Wind rode or tide rode
A reed boat sways the whole night,
Straining at anchor.

The papyrus dawn stretches.
The pale East trembles.
The priest too. Who knows.

Red sails tether

The dawn breeze.
The Nile renews her annual surrender.

Sirius rising, seed of power..
In this man's soul
What joy to compose its shell,
The hollow ritual! 

Credit: www.poemhunter.com

Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EDT July 11th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

Thirty-two participants engaged with The Artist by William Carlos Williams, posted below. We noticed first the form of the poem, which evokes Mr. T’s sudden movement—an entrechat—a performance on the page. In the discussion that followed we wondered not only “[w]hat goes on here?” (a line in the poem) but also: who does the title name? Is it Mr. T, the woman in the wheelchair who sees and applauds his scissored leap, the poet who performs the movement with words, or we readers, who bring our puzzle pieces from close reading and see all these possibilities?

Our prompt was:  Write about a moment of unexpected beauty. or Write about a leap. The prompted writing brought moments of beauty: traveling and asking where we are going; arrivals and departures, dogs and hummingbirds, the leap of a trout, a series of movements in ballet before a move to hospital corridors, a last kiss, and the generation of more than one unanswered question.

Thank you everyone for your participation in this evening’s narrative choreography!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday July 15th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


 The Artist by William Carlos Williams

Mr. T.
          bareheaded
                    in a soiled undershirt
his hair standing out
          on all sides
                    stood on his toes
heels together
           arms gracefully
                    for the moment
curled above his head.
            Then he whirled about
                     bounded
into the air
             and with an entrechat
                     perfectly achieved
completed the figure.
             My mother
                     taken by surprise
where she sat
             in her invalid’s chair
                      was left speechless.
Bravo! she cried at last
             and clapped her hands.
                       The man’s wife
came from the kitchen:
            What goes on here? she said.
                        But the show was over.

Credit: allpoetry.com 
© by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 8th 2022

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we look a close look at the painting The Janitor Who Paints by Palmer Hayden, posted below. 

Our prompt was: Write about two sides of yourself. ”

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Monday July 11th at 6pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


The Janitor Who Paints by Palmer Hayden

Copyright 2022 The Westmoreland Museum of American Art, Inc.