Gifts for the Coming Year
a free photo calendar, a creative gathering, and poem a day opportunity
Season’s greetings Dear Ones,
Here we are hovering around the darkest days of the year in a world whose mood can seem equally dark and depressing while at the same time celebrating – or mustering up the energy to celebrate – the holidays that pepper these last days of our yearly calendar.
Speaking of calendars, I have a gift for you. A 2024 calendar of my photographs that you can download and print. The PDF is designed to be printed on 4 x 6 photo paper in landscape mode and can be displayed on the fridge with a magnet, or on your desk with a small stand (an extra cell phone holder works). When printing please make sure to select photo paper & best quality. Each month will print out on a single sheet. If you don’t have a printer, please enjoy the images on your screen.
And now that we’re talking about 2024, I’m delighted to offer “Journal for Joy” an affordable in-person workshop on January 27th. I’ll be offering a variety of practices to get your creative juices flowing, including journaling with images and poetry. If you’re local I’d love to have you join me. Limited to 12 participants. Email me to sign for more info and to register.
You’re invited to join the Stafford Challenge. Join me, along with an ever-growing community of poets (400 at last count) from around the globe, in the creative practice of writing a poem every day for a year beginning January 17th, which is the birthday of poet William Stafford who wrote a daily poem for years.
Portland based organizer and poet Brian Rohr has lined up monthly Zoom events with amazing guest poets including Kim Stafford (William’s son) and Naomi Shihab Nye, as well as providing space on social media for interaction and bi-monthly emails of encouragement.
There are no prompts, no “enforcement,” and no cost to join, though you’re welcome to make a contribution to help fund the website and Zoom room expenses. You can find out more and signup here:
Thanks for sharing a few of your precious minutes with me. I’m signing off with this blessing from my latest weekly photo & poem (email if you’d like to join the recipient list).
Sometimes the cloud of unknowing
ruffles the veil that cloaks us—
opaque gray glows translucent
and for just an instant
our mortality evaporates
like mist as we glimpse the glory
of the promised coming
not in some future
far off and fantastical
but here, now, in this
holy and ordinary moment.