tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51157092132946853122024-03-13T23:19:30.220-07:00The Poetry Garret17 square metres amongst the rooftops of ParisNina Rodinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07762735401279716079noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-27492895186699002702023-05-31T08:00:00.027-07:002023-06-29T08:12:25.070-07:00From Becca Liu and Ethan Plaue<p><b>30 April - 31 May 2023</b></p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Our time in the Poetry Garrett and in Paris was nothing short of phenomenal. We arrived at the end of the pension protests at the end of April 2023 and were immediately astonished by the energy of a contemporary workers’ movement that engulfed the metropolis, a massive worker-led movement that would be hard to find in the United States these days. </p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrAfadsMjrzem4Dxo5T7OevM59KaM2U70UuaxXWYBYvK_FN8Bi7yKSyFs3yHMrXf4otunrCmYO4d6Sdo6sPOJP8Vo_2ta97XQx774iGUoOAGRBFV7gMNxU2fzaFsMoF9NJnO0omjCkj0CYPlpquGHJgHzoDC7TJuUg2YEIHFbJSMquUKH7uo28ONQQ-jDd/s4032/BecEth1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrAfadsMjrzem4Dxo5T7OevM59KaM2U70UuaxXWYBYvK_FN8Bi7yKSyFs3yHMrXf4otunrCmYO4d6Sdo6sPOJP8Vo_2ta97XQx774iGUoOAGRBFV7gMNxU2fzaFsMoF9NJnO0omjCkj0CYPlpquGHJgHzoDC7TJuUg2YEIHFbJSMquUKH7uo28ONQQ-jDd/s320/BecEth1.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">That set the tone for the rest of our time in Paris, as we discovered time and again that Parisians daily fight an encroaching “spiritual death,” as one friend back home in the States called it, that comes with exhortations to endless work, to austerity, to self-abnegation, to the “good enough” life. This, at least, was our impression of Paris, coming from a difficult year in New York. All this inevitably made it into our poetry, as Ethan edited his first collection of poems into a book and Becca wrote new poems inspired by watching the low sky rumble across the Poetry Garret’s window, the easefulness in the quiet corners of the Luxembourg Gardens, the daily pleasures that Parisians take to keep a feeling of equilibrium, to slow down, even to stay put at a cafe for hours into the night, the sense that one knows how to live well rather than merely live — these were the things we gravitated toward and tried to express in our poetry. </p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQaPQE0My5amlJKZ6aj-j0dFSTxTUJWsoh5MUM91hcZE5BLaF9kCD4vFZNiGWTzY6aQq6wBPZCv7C7R96Pt-viv4udRXauWWnlwSQ6UIpMyaO1wnylY9DNv3YwX3MC7CfnWxXPOBK-FREkTxKn6OlyLe7PbduUtP5yKs6PF6KV8HJ-baSvMtkCG9UTuNBa/s4032/BecEth2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQaPQE0My5amlJKZ6aj-j0dFSTxTUJWsoh5MUM91hcZE5BLaF9kCD4vFZNiGWTzY6aQq6wBPZCv7C7R96Pt-viv4udRXauWWnlwSQ6UIpMyaO1wnylY9DNv3YwX3MC7CfnWxXPOBK-FREkTxKn6OlyLe7PbduUtP5yKs6PF6KV8HJ-baSvMtkCG9UTuNBa/s320/BecEth2.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_toM7ex8zwdYwgpGZR7xKQCQBjp2OF12IdoMs_OyWA5obR0QyXHpzmNoaXFr4bXti51g1lrvmiWaO9nI_CuaMNMhT-0ZHixX6ta3_ledt2bT_NUxMTTSuN59OXrJWvou_NpUNapVF2UTMB_hc47Is-NtsHs8awfaSANmmi52_gtmddglesFGpOfvSa5m/s4032/BecEth3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_toM7ex8zwdYwgpGZR7xKQCQBjp2OF12IdoMs_OyWA5obR0QyXHpzmNoaXFr4bXti51g1lrvmiWaO9nI_CuaMNMhT-0ZHixX6ta3_ledt2bT_NUxMTTSuN59OXrJWvou_NpUNapVF2UTMB_hc47Is-NtsHs8awfaSANmmi52_gtmddglesFGpOfvSa5m/s320/BecEth3.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">We took turns writing at the kitchen table and on the couch — Elizabeth was kind enough to allow both of us to stay in the Garret at the same time! When we took breaks from writing, it was to eat dinners by the Seine, to walk the hills of Montmartre, to immerse ourselves in what we were reading at the time (Hegel and Henry James), to wander through architecturally and visually-stunning streets that were already steeped in an atmosphere of poetry, and to enjoy the quiet din of a sunny Paris afternoon in May. To have had the time and space and spirit to return to poetry for both us was an amazing gift. Thank you, Elizabeth Hansen and Rebecca Molloy, for making this residency possible!</p><div><br /></div>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-77396068322031904292022-11-18T07:36:00.014-08:002023-06-29T07:41:07.364-07:00From George Titheridge<p><b>17 Oct - 18 Nov 2022</b></p><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">When I first arrived, I met Phoebe Eccles. She had a great style and was so welcoming. She suggested we go for a beer to help settle me in. Over a drink at a bistro nearby, she told me about her time at the apartment. I was sad she was not around to hang out longer with me because we got along well, and I am excited to read her poems. </p><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">In the apartment, I unpacked and then walked around the neighbourhood to orient myself. I panicked a little at my lack of French and spent the night making the apartment my own, and I pinched myself at the reality of being in Paris for five weeks to write full-time.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbcp2YXel5E4GaCdMQV1dbRkzu3YEWYbiEgBbAvQcbjf1JWrtvpaqeFkAK4YL4Oc0TXk1j6yzr7RbmOkKkBCr8kRPOGvdUb_gdxTIzQijHxCGaNdlpSEYD1vkY3dMl9rZCkPziP08CocsUJTEh8H389vLJ-4jSFbPGp6l7-XFjTs6YzWtM8M2ICgMYxIE/s4160/George2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbcp2YXel5E4GaCdMQV1dbRkzu3YEWYbiEgBbAvQcbjf1JWrtvpaqeFkAK4YL4Oc0TXk1j6yzr7RbmOkKkBCr8kRPOGvdUb_gdxTIzQijHxCGaNdlpSEYD1vkY3dMl9rZCkPziP08CocsUJTEh8H389vLJ-4jSFbPGp6l7-XFjTs6YzWtM8M2ICgMYxIE/s320/George2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">Overcoming my language anxiety, I soon got into a rhythm of a morning coffee and croissant, then a walk around the neighbourhood—the Luxembourg Garden was such a nice, relaxing place to go, no matter the weather. Then I would go back to the apartment and write, read, watch a film, and make dinner. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk0G5qA8mt5y69WPthQCJN84IOu21rnQZQRsKvKqf5atWN3o_FbRl9LqgyBBsBYMpZ7HhHAGE2bXRLle1I1MwLG9yjABxJJwHezAdMjXQ2MoRffsxO8afMy8ssnUo3LUjCjgeDPKGYupfAIZvUm422RZntnStWFPbJPE1gLnmvGTZw4I3nx6ZOnraREE_o/s4160/George3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk0G5qA8mt5y69WPthQCJN84IOu21rnQZQRsKvKqf5atWN3o_FbRl9LqgyBBsBYMpZ7HhHAGE2bXRLle1I1MwLG9yjABxJJwHezAdMjXQ2MoRffsxO8afMy8ssnUo3LUjCjgeDPKGYupfAIZvUm422RZntnStWFPbJPE1gLnmvGTZw4I3nx6ZOnraREE_o/s320/George3.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">Sitting at the little window and looking out at the city's skyline gave me a lot of peace and enjoyment. The apartment is filled with the energy of people who have written here before me, and the city is always humming. </p><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">I made sure to go to lots of theatre, art shows, and different areas of Paris. I was really impressed by the standard of everything I saw, which was incredibly inspiring. I expected to get lonely, but with so much to do, I felt busy and inspired the whole time. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiftvix-kek_rk1t4jRRi-qXuRpqTJ_gKSNZrWEb_14I1PrC8TaRWkXntsCcbORpmN89VtIrm_7aPtdziIznr20R1A9CaXscYrZ6djA2kJN4d3Jj-FSqEYdN0uvWvsTUKSzdf-YNObaRYAFPSg-JxOU75IYdtVu-8FbgYZ-5KyDf5fH9GtdOtbtISek5HUi/s4160/George1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiftvix-kek_rk1t4jRRi-qXuRpqTJ_gKSNZrWEb_14I1PrC8TaRWkXntsCcbORpmN89VtIrm_7aPtdziIznr20R1A9CaXscYrZ6djA2kJN4d3Jj-FSqEYdN0uvWvsTUKSzdf-YNObaRYAFPSg-JxOU75IYdtVu-8FbgYZ-5KyDf5fH9GtdOtbtISek5HUi/s320/George1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">Five weeks seemed to go by so fast, and I was very sad to leave. On my last day, the next resident, Evie Ward, arrived, and we spent the day together having food and, later, some drinks. It felt so nice to pass the keys onto her, and I am excited to have met another really talented poet. </p><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;">I loved my time at the Trelex residency in Paris. I want to send a heartfelt thank you to<a href="http://www.elizabethhansen.com/"> Elizabeth Hansen</a> and Rebecca Molloy for helping organise my stay. I hope to return one day soon as I miss my full-time Paris writer life! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj_AKLZ7W2jt5VMQUTM1FMC8SMznGT0-z7KaqzGc1egFdJIBz5ArG18gTbH-wjxameYMXa30hLPEeCTtnu7P-ENqXFT0VvLGmRgg7Lh894mS0Y3cB3V6pjN5T80E9tloN95fQRTSLsd9Vptg0VuQKoCzA64OH490dwzoHsv4BdoIW7JuZ9mmx24dlvgIQ/s4160/George4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdj_AKLZ7W2jt5VMQUTM1FMC8SMznGT0-z7KaqzGc1egFdJIBz5ArG18gTbH-wjxameYMXa30hLPEeCTtnu7P-ENqXFT0VvLGmRgg7Lh894mS0Y3cB3V6pjN5T80E9tloN95fQRTSLsd9Vptg0VuQKoCzA64OH490dwzoHsv4BdoIW7JuZ9mmx24dlvgIQ/s320/George4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="color: #1c1c1c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 16px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-17893656604744548422022-10-17T07:21:00.014-07:002023-07-10T07:05:39.412-07:00From Phoebe Eccles<p><b>28 Aug - 17 Oct 2022</b></p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">Not having been to Paris prior to the residency (I used to feel like I was the only person in the world who hadn’t been to Paris), I was unprepared for its maximalist beauty. I spent my first few days holed up inside the garret, hiding from the spectacle so that I could finish my master’s thesis, a long poem which will be published this September.</p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcrSyUdoZ5iJiLr-q_3AmPg8bNnBgWC_ia0OQpD50hCGVY3LUziWcKQyIe6hZkNJmhOILovYJ1dinSNbIfVQX65Mva-qxFemy6keNKuYSFZIxxwAndLp5iE4MjnNvIWqUTi6FFA3TOkhvX278HPHBywF6-d4sNbozd-qe10d6bdaHJ6-XaIAAJXKGzG2N/s2016/Phoebe%201%20Paris%20street.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcrSyUdoZ5iJiLr-q_3AmPg8bNnBgWC_ia0OQpD50hCGVY3LUziWcKQyIe6hZkNJmhOILovYJ1dinSNbIfVQX65Mva-qxFemy6keNKuYSFZIxxwAndLp5iE4MjnNvIWqUTi6FFA3TOkhvX278HPHBywF6-d4sNbozd-qe10d6bdaHJ6-XaIAAJXKGzG2N/s320/Phoebe%201%20Paris%20street.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">Usually I am a morning person, but at the residency I got into the habit of staying up late at night writing and then sleeping in until 10 or 11am. I would emerge from the garret, slow and bleary, and purchase a pain au chocolat, usually at café madame, and an espresso, and I would take both to Jardin du luxembourg, and I would put my feet up on a green chair and read.</p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">I read poetry by Diane Seuss, Louise Gluck, Lyn Heijinian, Denise Riley, J. H. Prynne, John James, Anna Mendelssohn, and Ilya Kaminsky. I read <i>Runaway</i> by Alice Munro, <i>One thing I know</i> by Pati Hill, <i>Murphy</i> by Samuel Beckett, <i>The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas</i> by Gertrude Stein, <i>Either/Or</i> by Elif Batuman, and, after finding a copy at my favourite English language bookshop, San Francisco Book Co, I reread <i>Who Will Run The Frog Hospital</i> by Lorrie Moore.</p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">I even read some of <i>The Space of Literature</i> by Maurice Blanchot. This text helped me think about what it means to be writing, or what it means to (try to) be a writer. I wrote a series of poems about Franz Kafka’s loneliness as a way of thinking through why one might choose to be alone, romantically and/or geographically. <br />
<br />
My friend Teddy, an artist living in the north of Paris, saved me from too much introspection by taking me to galleries. I loved the Pinault Collection at the Bourse de Commerce, but my favourite place was the magical Gustave Moreau museum.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglv-q_GKFY2-n6LzrE2H9XWRI3Q0OoLNR5H6GgXF9eikbBwFYIZGO2xva6f6SDrx_6iUkM_pJKqaNJZSsBFQE7iKyQHowXJnw0Cdr3hZPOSqCXnZmWcZMx2Mhr7NxR1f1sYFehsqlHsShOXGiDriH14ceegCEKD9NzAeyWmoNjLBp-GEUi-uiDPxH6BXmq/s2016/Phoebe%202%20-%20Paris%20Gustave%20Moreau%20detail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglv-q_GKFY2-n6LzrE2H9XWRI3Q0OoLNR5H6GgXF9eikbBwFYIZGO2xva6f6SDrx_6iUkM_pJKqaNJZSsBFQE7iKyQHowXJnw0Cdr3hZPOSqCXnZmWcZMx2Mhr7NxR1f1sYFehsqlHsShOXGiDriH14ceegCEKD9NzAeyWmoNjLBp-GEUi-uiDPxH6BXmq/s320/Phoebe%202%20-%20Paris%20Gustave%20Moreau%20detail.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">Paris taught me to how to see. I learnt that paintings, buildings and films could be all read like how poems are read.</p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">Most days I walked down Rue de Fleurs and gave a respectful nod to Stein’s house. Stein is an important writer to me. She taught me to find aesthetic pleasure in linguistic confusion. Often I walked around the Montparnasse cemetery, locating the resting places of Simone de Beauvoir, Charles Baudelaire, and Beckett. Once I travelled to Père Lachaise, to lay a rose on the grave of my favourite writer, Marcel Proust.</p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">I feel most at home in busy cities, probably because I grew up in London. Like Frank O’Hara, I am moved and inspired by urbanism. The juxtaposition of the peaceful solitude of the garret with the surging life-force of the chattering terraces summoned a useful tension. Not being a French speaker, I could not fully integrate into the happenings of Paris. Positioned at a distance, I admired the city as if it was the greatest, the most dazzling epic poem.</p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">One evening I cycled to the American library to see a Q and A with the poet Eileen Myles. In response to one question, Myles said that women and queer people come of age through two events: the first act of sexual violence committed against them, and the first time they decide to write. I turned 30 during my time at the residency, and I was considering my personal history, and how it came to be that I believed that writing was important. I was writing a lot of diary entries, the kind of writing that isn’t meant to be seen, the purpose of which is a kind of self-knowledge.</p>
<p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;">I am so grateful to Elizabeth for giving me the opportunity to roam around Paris for seven weeks, amongst the homes and graves of writers who have made me who and what I am. I value not just the time I had for writing, but the space I had for thinking, for considering the act of writing, in conjunction with exploring the city, with that feeling of solitude, with that feeling of loss that is actually very giving, the giving-ness I suppose that comes with deliberately not being at home.</p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pGAfpsK2XL3_VllgJ9Z0eeYzMyGi5Lq7uMlMzRbLUf3c7TYFz5J-gAjqxCEQvCHpGJjEygPcqvJJdmuOEuaNCXVELCqtel1CEx2urj7gS4hhmxWpFpjkBDj57PsMtlQZ-6OvDeKoFuAMggVeJV9f23CnvjGuMDvfgRhvmcQERqmtIfqFtmYL1pzf17Ap/s640/Phoebe%203%20-%20Paris%20Baudelaire%20memorial.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9pGAfpsK2XL3_VllgJ9Z0eeYzMyGi5Lq7uMlMzRbLUf3c7TYFz5J-gAjqxCEQvCHpGJjEygPcqvJJdmuOEuaNCXVELCqtel1CEx2urj7gS4hhmxWpFpjkBDj57PsMtlQZ-6OvDeKoFuAMggVeJV9f23CnvjGuMDvfgRhvmcQERqmtIfqFtmYL1pzf17Ap/s320/Phoebe%203%20-%20Paris%20Baudelaire%20memorial.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 10.7px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-64079034285411582142022-07-18T07:20:00.006-07:002023-07-10T07:35:34.880-07:00From Claire Watt<b style="caret-color: rgb(102, 102, 102); color: #666666; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 12.1px;">18 July - 29 August 2022</b><br /><p><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">My time in the poetry garret was one of inspiration and connection. From the start, I decided I wanted to take this opportunity to throw myself into the Parisian literary scene, and the garret, located in the heart of the city, was the perfect place to do this.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Helvetica; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcp7admwKXyn1w5kEZRSttyxItw0eVRbiBmPFLrZFliwLrjLk7WKfBFz2DmnAMzYbGLiCa9tOdY-V46nvrP8ev4hYSpEj5wF4MRQZjrZdOspsvQNfi5v1Pmu0AXDMRDxPgJGhdmeObeu7BTcDu3YcR7O1iUn8hpIgjReeHVCL6nEnkA9tz4v7o5Se0dI8n/s320/IMG_1178-1%20C.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="190" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcp7admwKXyn1w5kEZRSttyxItw0eVRbiBmPFLrZFliwLrjLk7WKfBFz2DmnAMzYbGLiCa9tOdY-V46nvrP8ev4hYSpEj5wF4MRQZjrZdOspsvQNfi5v1Pmu0AXDMRDxPgJGhdmeObeu7BTcDu3YcR7O1iUn8hpIgjReeHVCL6nEnkA9tz4v7o5Se0dI8n/s1600/IMG_1178-1%20C.jpg" width="190" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">As soon as I put down my bags, opening the window to the sight of the beautiful Haussmann architecture around me, I made a beeline for the little plastic folder on the bookshelf of the garret, containing tips from previous residents. My mind reeled–there was an entire page with suggested contacts and events to help you feel more at home. Everything from regular poetry readings to the email addresses of local writers–it was the best welcome I could have asked for. I was privileged enough to go for a walk with the poet Cole Swensen and grab a drink with the visual artist Sabine Macher, both of whom inspired my writing. Whilst Cole showed me around the tranquil Jardin du Luxembourg, Sabine took me to the bustling neighbourhoods around Riquet. We talked poetry and Paris and both helped me explore new directions in my writing. I also met several times with Alice Notley in relation to my PhD research on the New York School, which again fed into my creative practice.</p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZNb5FIdYe0Q4bkwVL8oxD7SUz8xkSPhmoZkcu5i9TSpxoyT34rxyKiIVasfIFm--NcpJdHjMCa0ahxh1DJJx8hMzG1uRPNrh3rFb_47cMIYl23eON-IvIQ3qhzqvrjPPUAKWolQGULd5Opk3Eo5RgzzCM-pHs9kpq6N1ThSXRG31_dpovsh0yl8nUele/s320/IMG_0255.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZNb5FIdYe0Q4bkwVL8oxD7SUz8xkSPhmoZkcu5i9TSpxoyT34rxyKiIVasfIFm--NcpJdHjMCa0ahxh1DJJx8hMzG1uRPNrh3rFb_47cMIYl23eON-IvIQ3qhzqvrjPPUAKWolQGULd5Opk3Eo5RgzzCM-pHs9kpq6N1ThSXRG31_dpovsh0yl8nUele/s1600/IMG_0255.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVXJC1_-VR87PQIfJqMeBZmnqXPZxJfnstGfe7-YqN1zddRAXHV2Hhtd76Qmu9D0hk-xFdVKe_Y1b2VahN5RpUzOa1n3P3UGjcYMaUqMD1411yqE7FVqenxsnBNgvaozVw2b857dey1EANi_Q9O7eBjK5Y_SBrIqHt51IJlJUzmtykXQ9FEVLUgDzqBsvX/s320/IMG_0310.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVXJC1_-VR87PQIfJqMeBZmnqXPZxJfnstGfe7-YqN1zddRAXHV2Hhtd76Qmu9D0hk-xFdVKe_Y1b2VahN5RpUzOa1n3P3UGjcYMaUqMD1411yqE7FVqenxsnBNgvaozVw2b857dey1EANi_Q9O7eBjK5Y_SBrIqHt51IJlJUzmtykXQ9FEVLUgDzqBsvX/s1600/IMG_0310.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">I equally explored the Paris writing scene in a group setting, going along to the open mic nights at Culture Rapide and the Sunday workshops at Au Chat Noir. I found a community of writers at Au Chat Noir who made me feel incredibly welcome, and a tributary group of us began meeting up in a particularly friendly member’s Parisian apartment for extra writing sessions over beer and wine. Meeting people from such different writing backgrounds, including many expats and French speakers, was formative for my writing process. In particular, one of the writers with whom I connected is also a visual artist, and the way in which she mixes images of art and light into her written work precipitated a shift in my own writing–what if I could go beyond the influences of the page alone? I pushed myself to try ekphrastic poetry, comic poetry and to seize the city streets as a flâneur. I am now shaping these eclectic poems into a chapbook, and two of my poems are forthcoming in the August issue of </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">Tears in the Fence</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;">.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-F0gHhWu9pABLcuDRk7mWZVbuIr00zUG8K0lvAHyAvaIC141vsZvvNOoudBGzZUlYyazmod7mqeOGhg6yDVnBybowwrSMuJ6SMdr7PuLMbNSZJ9uYuz62FQt73opHve5dcr0X70wpdwe1wdkNbA-i4W6nN0q2MfxDj-0apmX3m8EzdNIK-WbMvdwL62sL/s320/IMG_0206.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-F0gHhWu9pABLcuDRk7mWZVbuIr00zUG8K0lvAHyAvaIC141vsZvvNOoudBGzZUlYyazmod7mqeOGhg6yDVnBybowwrSMuJ6SMdr7PuLMbNSZJ9uYuz62FQt73opHve5dcr0X70wpdwe1wdkNbA-i4W6nN0q2MfxDj-0apmX3m8EzdNIK-WbMvdwL62sL/s1600/IMG_0206.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGJ8EGWtwVGOLqSco0wSbipiJ1cJ_O8VYVFkc_4mgUMCG01UYRQkrI_VRXnvUcPAHL3h68xS8oyFjgpLIgEFGcH7QT0sr5NfNpYkG39u3GF3EZIy3kSfICYARw1bQBsqhOqRyY4CKj84vD4v4RRG0HOBh_dLLPA1i73n7RtFtm33Ht6awJpDxHhHikrvh/s320/IMG_0394.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQGJ8EGWtwVGOLqSco0wSbipiJ1cJ_O8VYVFkc_4mgUMCG01UYRQkrI_VRXnvUcPAHL3h68xS8oyFjgpLIgEFGcH7QT0sr5NfNpYkG39u3GF3EZIy3kSfICYARw1bQBsqhOqRyY4CKj84vD4v4RRG0HOBh_dLLPA1i73n7RtFtm33Ht6awJpDxHhHikrvh/s1600/IMG_0394.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Helvetica; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">My poetry was fed by the buzz of Paris. Looking out of the window of the garret, you feel as though you’re in the centre of it all, and it’s true–the city is quite literally on your doorstep. Locally, I enjoyed grabbing coffee from Loutsa (the lady there is extremely smiley) and a pain au chocolat from Le Café Pierre Hermé. I spent most of my days walking–down Canal St Martin, around République, through La Marais, or sitting in the oasis of quiet which is tucked away behind Pont Neuf. My poetry was fueled by the streets and by tiny galleries like 59 Rue du Rivoli, a set of artist studios which are ever-changing and open to the public. By night, I immersed myself in the jazz scene, exploring Duc du Lombards and La Gare, amongst others, and often grabbed drinks or a crêpe on Rue Mouffetard. I enjoyed walking at night, catching a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower between the trees or across the Seine, whenever I could. </p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Helvetica; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc8khgkisjKYHJEtoTj6LOxs6r50stcPE6VXQqiBT-tqlCc0UAw3N6VETdyHyDnhvw4807Tyx1L8VhkalTkpov4Pq6Ri_GIGnznftckOANVIvzSe55f78nj9YQQJdDlzfZUj9RozXYX7so1s-MQmbPWGTSefjO2fVC3GIGDBNgQ0E3FhFkYl5t31h9NZFa/s320/IMG_0108.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc8khgkisjKYHJEtoTj6LOxs6r50stcPE6VXQqiBT-tqlCc0UAw3N6VETdyHyDnhvw4807Tyx1L8VhkalTkpov4Pq6Ri_GIGnznftckOANVIvzSe55f78nj9YQQJdDlzfZUj9RozXYX7so1s-MQmbPWGTSefjO2fVC3GIGDBNgQ0E3FhFkYl5t31h9NZFa/s1600/IMG_0108.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFU5YhEuUL5__qBVlnoxMOgK6xqueKc1ErgFd3n6cnfhdlCWqWxFodCoHnAdyzM80QBepGjwdIE2A0gfVjU0m1bL76m2hODs0Io1ABUbXO-DKjStdNrXacOSzBnabyAer-D5x5O9oxFzrHMgbZXWNV9UAOvd3PC1Yyj4UtuesXe5r80LZMYNPeYiAkPmc/s320/IMG_0102.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFU5YhEuUL5__qBVlnoxMOgK6xqueKc1ErgFd3n6cnfhdlCWqWxFodCoHnAdyzM80QBepGjwdIE2A0gfVjU0m1bL76m2hODs0Io1ABUbXO-DKjStdNrXacOSzBnabyAer-D5x5O9oxFzrHMgbZXWNV9UAOvd3PC1Yyj4UtuesXe5r80LZMYNPeYiAkPmc/s1600/IMG_0102.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">I have always found Paris inspiring, but living in the centre for a snatch of time and just being able to write added a new colour to it–a hue of artistic energy I still carry with me now. There is perhaps no greater pleasure than to sit in Jardin du Luxembourg with a pen and a piece of paper in the summer (especially if you can find one of the reclining chairs), watching the tiny model boats circle round and round on the central pond. I am so grateful to Elizabeth for this residency and the space and time to write which it offers; it truly is a unique experience and I look forward to returning in the future. </p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKggPG_UFyQuDfn_rhFN_L32qpw_gjcP6zXMg1wnZ3CNBTSst6YrjWq0ctR_v-0xL56VFoMO_B5nUvNEwJWrhTHmVpoKcPmR49arppYwvMEEDp97oUh3Yzne4-FYCR91-7YM5VjJKTGkyd2QxY1L6Imeb-Ivc-1qB1IPVXOZxCUmOVCHrnOfDUgIVRIPJ/s320/IMG_9851.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKggPG_UFyQuDfn_rhFN_L32qpw_gjcP6zXMg1wnZ3CNBTSst6YrjWq0ctR_v-0xL56VFoMO_B5nUvNEwJWrhTHmVpoKcPmR49arppYwvMEEDp97oUh3Yzne4-FYCR91-7YM5VjJKTGkyd2QxY1L6Imeb-Ivc-1qB1IPVXOZxCUmOVCHrnOfDUgIVRIPJ/s1600/IMG_9851.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh45GAhE_A7-SVID2EGpLsXhJQrnWxmqPrMEBXKw1aVowNK73TX7zvsLXrCOVkHBqKmcZDuILs6OBYzedQtCqF43OHxS2vl0iJXUXVVXM-0gsP4RYgkptUffKIHjKc1pMV6Dj--efT-yuiD9Xp-8Yo3K-JXDidGC6hbIxUaKxxCpAjKlqvd7E7DOOXFFkJw/s320/IMG_9944.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh45GAhE_A7-SVID2EGpLsXhJQrnWxmqPrMEBXKw1aVowNK73TX7zvsLXrCOVkHBqKmcZDuILs6OBYzedQtCqF43OHxS2vl0iJXUXVVXM-0gsP4RYgkptUffKIHjKc1pMV6Dj--efT-yuiD9Xp-8Yo3K-JXDidGC6hbIxUaKxxCpAjKlqvd7E7DOOXFFkJw/s1600/IMG_9944.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #414141; font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-16400009393942179882022-06-12T06:44:00.009-07:002023-07-10T07:47:06.293-07:00From Donna Glee Williams<p style="text-align: justify;"><b>14 March - 12 June 2022</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF45BFOspoveDmxRPEcmL9bDbigGilAasVxGUNeTatrW8MjyrJavRPpkYIij4TSFlninhgfHWye_iVWhoBUGrRP6iUntpm2ViHzt7RdJ1zD7hstZnKaPH5M40AoTL_Bu94EKrOc-B9ORUPtPkyip9mfMQWCwJJziKxyZl7h2BYBJHxXbiHoPOc6EK1Fl6i/s414/IMG_0601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="414" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF45BFOspoveDmxRPEcmL9bDbigGilAasVxGUNeTatrW8MjyrJavRPpkYIij4TSFlninhgfHWye_iVWhoBUGrRP6iUntpm2ViHzt7RdJ1zD7hstZnKaPH5M40AoTL_Bu94EKrOc-B9ORUPtPkyip9mfMQWCwJJziKxyZl7h2BYBJHxXbiHoPOc6EK1Fl6i/s320/IMG_0601.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;">It’s been a year since my blessed, blissed-out stay at the Trelex Poetry Garret. I’ve had time to let the water still, the bubbles rise, and the sand settle out, and here’s what I think:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;">I came to Paris when my latest novel (</span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;">The Night Field, </i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;">Quercus, 2023 </span><span style="color: #0000e9; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: underline;"><a href="https://www.donnagleewilliams.com/the-night-field-pre-order">https://www.donnagleewilliams.com/the-night-field-pre-order)</a></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px;"> was in the hands of editors, sensitivity readers, proofreaders. Tears had been shed, therapist consulted, as my British publication team did their level best to “Anglicize” my oh-so-American voice. A bit battered, a bit starved, I hungered to settle into my poet-brain again. That’s what Trelex did for me.</span></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">I wrote beside Baudelaire’s grave. (I left him a little note.) Beside de Beauvoir’s. Beside the tomb of Heloise and Abelard. Along the banks of the Seine. In too many cathedrals to name. In a corner niche of Shakespeare and Company. And, good God almighty, in Les Deux Magots.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Something else I did—maybe not as important as the actual <i>writing</i>, but still—was taking the time to <i>submit.</i> It turned out that, when I got down to it, I’d been writing a fair amount of raw poetry through the whole process of bringing my beloved <i>The Night Field </i>to life. But I hadn’t done the work of revisiting, mining, polishing, and submitting my raw scrawls. Paris gave me time to do carry some of those efforts over the goal line, raking in a good bundle of rejections, but some acceptances, too—include one I’m particularly proud of, to come out in the summer of 2023 in <i>SageWoman</i> to a much larger general audience than most of my poetry has reached.</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Here’s why I urge my creative friends to sign up for Trelex:</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">1. Paris. ‘Nuff said</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">2. Novelty. We are the offspring of a zillion generations of creatures who hoarded their energy by relaxing in familiar surroundings and rousing to high-level alertness in novel situations that might pose new survival challenges. We are evolutionarily programmed to have our minds and senses be more awake in new environments. Mind and senses awake—that’s what you need to write poetry</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">3. Escape from responsibilities and routines. When we are not sliding along the deep grooves of our daily habits and jobs, <i>anything </i>can happen. And, in Paris, it does!</p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">4. Escape from the people who know us and know how we will react. When you walk with strangers, you can be anyone you want, try on new identities, new personalities. No one will know. No one will tell on you. You can take a new name, dress differently, write differently. </p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">When my residency began, Paris was in the middle of a covid surge as steep as the Eiffel Tower. I’m an old woman, one of the people that really shouldn’t get covid if they can possibly dodge it. So I didn’t do everything I would have done if I’d gone before our world changed in 2020, and I grieved for that. Restaurants, shows, talking with strangers—not so much. But I decided that if this was the Paris I was offered, this was the Paris I would take. And, when the world goes dark, I will be able to say that I was a poet in Paris. </p>
<p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">I hope you will be, too.</p><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiguiIDwojWeyOd9IbJapY4h-e6tCwF-DMtBcuA-KkuT30DFS-uV8AXLmgfMNXzwHQAWhs3RzzQrcElhs8WHhkudWUIpW9tmfGKZbeAlrLaMTdg_V6ph9Cf2x3JZC2LoPb8r04gAhAYAH_fOUAYJw5yctuGkajrcVKwxrtYEETVm9a86TSQj7X2QwrbuvVu/s2016/20220314_111424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiguiIDwojWeyOd9IbJapY4h-e6tCwF-DMtBcuA-KkuT30DFS-uV8AXLmgfMNXzwHQAWhs3RzzQrcElhs8WHhkudWUIpW9tmfGKZbeAlrLaMTdg_V6ph9Cf2x3JZC2LoPb8r04gAhAYAH_fOUAYJw5yctuGkajrcVKwxrtYEETVm9a86TSQj7X2QwrbuvVu/s320/20220314_111424.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p style="background-color: white; color: #535353; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; font: 12.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p></div>
</h3>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-73555653323728982282022-04-30T08:15:00.010-07:002023-07-17T08:34:32.118-07:00From Mari Amman<p> <b>28 Feb - 30 April 2023</b></p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Two months in Paris was just enough time for me to complete 4 books of poetry and enjoy a few of the abundant, cultural attractions. Of course, one could live an entire life in Paris and not see all it has to offer. The location of the residency made it easy for me to get everywhere I like on my favourite mode of transportation: foot. I prefer to take in my surroundings step-by-step in its entirety. There are metros nearby for anyone who is braver to those systems than I. </p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSXxmZIxYtbLdNffdzCbI3aU53Igj1tYWbwGvUbHZTPTimcx_VlIlzQGk-xioIgXlmKkOramYhC8rAp2gaLPiLHjTCmJSrGtnDRrwgAYhvwHxAIUFP6gWuuKBRjFaOCuU9XkHb-xRuxWzZVj5RBzzKqjiMbJtnsQ-cc-4F09imBHc9d62M__p_e4eYhrU/s1024/Rachel5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSXxmZIxYtbLdNffdzCbI3aU53Igj1tYWbwGvUbHZTPTimcx_VlIlzQGk-xioIgXlmKkOramYhC8rAp2gaLPiLHjTCmJSrGtnDRrwgAYhvwHxAIUFP6gWuuKBRjFaOCuU9XkHb-xRuxWzZVj5RBzzKqjiMbJtnsQ-cc-4F09imBHc9d62M__p_e4eYhrU/s320/Rachel5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #414141; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">I really cannot say enough good about the residency. The sense of liberty is underscored by the shared ethos in my life along with everyone involved the Trélex Residencies. Rebecca always goes out of her way to make sure everything is covered. I was able to have a small envelope delivered to me while in Paris. I used my Norwegian Artist membership to gain access to some of the art museums I had wanted to see. Vérité is my icon in life, and so I was delighted to get to see that at Musée d’Orsay. </p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #414141; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWDwv_ptIi5cBx-uBJveJHi76PnRk8C8-nu7WKMWHKLYwNmvY_bLBqoinHjC4l_S78gk_S58iAdXoMAcERw7v5czlphU5HlwQOjqEATq2Rbf5BM_Ik6QFTDZm2LFMCTXmsPk_05PmGIqJihIgtol8v1NDSSsrLV8wPfUG-sPmrQftSxWXGSfxfvrhZH7-/s1068/Rachel6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="736" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWDwv_ptIi5cBx-uBJveJHi76PnRk8C8-nu7WKMWHKLYwNmvY_bLBqoinHjC4l_S78gk_S58iAdXoMAcERw7v5czlphU5HlwQOjqEATq2Rbf5BM_Ik6QFTDZm2LFMCTXmsPk_05PmGIqJihIgtol8v1NDSSsrLV8wPfUG-sPmrQftSxWXGSfxfvrhZH7-/s320/Rachel6.jpg" width="221" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">The groceries were more affordable than I am used to in Norway, and I found myself feeling quite literally elevated up in the heavens writing poems with the sound of birdsongs. Even though I had endured a monumental time for Parisians, Rebecca and Nina remained accommodating if I felt in danger during the riots. I simply stayed inside and got my work done. I not once felt unsafe. I also had the great fortune to meet Elizabeth for brunch at Café Judy which I also recommend from the list of things suggested to residents to explore. </p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: Helvetica Neue;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(76, 76, 76); font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gzXxP9FzZ6XHAHsaUZe28oBR6x-9rK8E6U0-gvBoNj93ObLLKvQDWVjrS1bWXtG4tzRKq8NAfZDVeZ1-4c1GxRD1PP5BG8HkRla2UF6C_rwHlosrHsgPjLJa0wBj3cfVqgB1a0EfJ6knffz9f-q_3NXKHyZ1xRfbrhaG2lS3VCY92Ls7Fgd1Pjn2OLsL/s1024/Rachel2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9gzXxP9FzZ6XHAHsaUZe28oBR6x-9rK8E6U0-gvBoNj93ObLLKvQDWVjrS1bWXtG4tzRKq8NAfZDVeZ1-4c1GxRD1PP5BG8HkRla2UF6C_rwHlosrHsgPjLJa0wBj3cfVqgB1a0EfJ6knffz9f-q_3NXKHyZ1xRfbrhaG2lS3VCY92Ls7Fgd1Pjn2OLsL/s320/Rachel2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #414141; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">The neighbourhood is beautiful and very nice. Because I live a quite sheltered life in the nature, the city was busy but no busier than any other city I lived in before, so I found peace in the churches and accepted an invite to join a ceremony at St. Sulpice which offered communion and beautiful singing. Going for walks always helps me concentrate but in Paris I was inspired at every corner. The light and sights and sounds are unlike any place I’ve been. </p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><span face="-webkit-standard" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PYqYaXzD1hvTZ-dICc41Q839GrdeeDtRXP15pgVFOhnjhzoUGIVZ-Vleh8kPRmQeAS1VJmw3hD2tbwY9KzWtufl93RqzcnaaN7875SC_qPNLj6awt4wmy9knz4DBU9Nfsnzu3OooiP4Tsogv3SgjUL7XAd4r9ssBsSF4_Rjff8OYLXIDnSKrODWH_JtC/s1024/Rachel4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PYqYaXzD1hvTZ-dICc41Q839GrdeeDtRXP15pgVFOhnjhzoUGIVZ-Vleh8kPRmQeAS1VJmw3hD2tbwY9KzWtufl93RqzcnaaN7875SC_qPNLj6awt4wmy9knz4DBU9Nfsnzu3OooiP4Tsogv3SgjUL7XAd4r9ssBsSF4_Rjff8OYLXIDnSKrODWH_JtC/s320/Rachel4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">My biggest regret was not going to The Red Wheelbarrow Bookstore first week I was there. Penelope was a delight and the bookshop is a real treasure alongside the wondrous Jardin du Luxembourg.</p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">I plan to use the rest of the 2 months offered as soon as possible, because I felt inspired to write even more when I was there…even as I threatened to never write again, the life in Paris is happening everywhere. I had brought my camera along, and even though I felt totally uninspired due to tremendous life stresses before this residency; I felt inundated with inspiration while in Paris. I have so much to work with now.</p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;">Overall, The Trélex Residencies, both in Paris and Switzerland, have been profoundly productive for both my internal processes as a poet, artist, researcher and performer, and I am deeply grateful for the great support offered through the residencies to realise the deepening of my work for projects and exhibitions to come. </p><div style="color: #4c4c4c;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdp8as2Q18aaRQ2VRYevqytRAQkOn6XTrYg3_-golcQ38rULQ7KHxZ_tjCkcIcXuHpf0OXpt2ddJRRVLY9oXh6EM19TFWqe_v9iq7IKXELETFulwcXVq-eds3uAkQSX2Ckjw8G_r0xFS_iz_UvYV7g4oFmPrGolGWFlGxHLxeWyKUQbFUs4ISLkEMWCYw/s3566/Rachel3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3566" data-original-width="1630" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQdp8as2Q18aaRQ2VRYevqytRAQkOn6XTrYg3_-golcQ38rULQ7KHxZ_tjCkcIcXuHpf0OXpt2ddJRRVLY9oXh6EM19TFWqe_v9iq7IKXELETFulwcXVq-eds3uAkQSX2Ckjw8G_r0xFS_iz_UvYV7g4oFmPrGolGWFlGxHLxeWyKUQbFUs4ISLkEMWCYw/s320/Rachel3.jpg" width="146" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYU0ekmXpfGesqTPU4CSSJ2QnOaXEkJ8zlnEB7eQKk59d6K1w6LhpXkQIhz4I__iUtL_55UtZB7f0V4A4MjI5jr0_cKLvrfwRXye7iXGZDt6uympuqtnMyy3taEgP4kvWd86yKTqCZpTtyP7qX4sTJk8gK5qZajhbYSkRGkKFf6dVRQQn3gLHISOyHs8hN/s1024/Rahcel1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYU0ekmXpfGesqTPU4CSSJ2QnOaXEkJ8zlnEB7eQKk59d6K1w6LhpXkQIhz4I__iUtL_55UtZB7f0V4A4MjI5jr0_cKLvrfwRXye7iXGZDt6uympuqtnMyy3taEgP4kvWd86yKTqCZpTtyP7qX4sTJk8gK5qZajhbYSkRGkKFf6dVRQQn3gLHISOyHs8hN/s320/Rahcel1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #4c4c4c; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="color: #4c4c4c;"><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The 4 books of poetry with analogue photography, Poetry, Prose &Suche, can be purchased as PDFs via email:<span style="color: #1e00fd;"> </span><span style="color: #0000e9; text-decoration: underline;">mariammanart@icloud.com</span><span style="color: #1e00fd;"> </span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The poems are also posted with audio recordings done in Paris, for the paid subscribers of <span style="color: #0000e9; text-decoration: underline;">https://lelapin.substack.com</span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #0000e3; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">https://mariamman.net/</span></p></div></div></div></div></span></div></div><br /><p style="color: #4c4c4c; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-57002614810823797792022-03-15T07:28:00.025-07:002023-06-29T06:40:08.678-07:00From Maryam Monalisa Gharavi <p><b> 13 Jan - 15 March 2022</b></p><br /><span face="Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">Published work from Maryam's residency period at The Poetry Garret can be seen <a href="https://brooklynrail.org/2022/04/poetry/three-4222">here.</a></span><div><br /></div><div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRPzqAD29S9bRCtzXzFlTqQpwzfkl_f81JZInhiUP333EgRoB1ME5m3R3EZfxQUwQoI3XEyujVgNfUIxTD5Y5gG83E2Axbjz-mYz7gSCaNwznuS477sgAK_b6cwJSlD75tciO4J8prDiNM8c9si7MyPibDmgW5Rh58izINdbfgLBse0f8LMQ-ccPEvX4W/s4032/Monalisa1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRPzqAD29S9bRCtzXzFlTqQpwzfkl_f81JZInhiUP333EgRoB1ME5m3R3EZfxQUwQoI3XEyujVgNfUIxTD5Y5gG83E2Axbjz-mYz7gSCaNwznuS477sgAK_b6cwJSlD75tciO4J8prDiNM8c9si7MyPibDmgW5Rh58izINdbfgLBse0f8LMQ-ccPEvX4W/s320/Monalisa1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKLZhNYVuFfuyc35DAe0_mh4DwFJXfXx7YRAnN-g1tfJtYQuYtWN02feEQRZdYYVRf21syiIjwxY50PZrrgIYQD8upJqvQ3Hv0I7zUV3f-MjL2WPVq9ou6IRqcr9rvaKHRPuz3s5OlARu7ZyU4MJOOEWj1g1T6hAZgmbUpU-AH4NzFqeOkYUH1M8nyJua/s4032/Monalisa2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKLZhNYVuFfuyc35DAe0_mh4DwFJXfXx7YRAnN-g1tfJtYQuYtWN02feEQRZdYYVRf21syiIjwxY50PZrrgIYQD8upJqvQ3Hv0I7zUV3f-MjL2WPVq9ou6IRqcr9rvaKHRPuz3s5OlARu7ZyU4MJOOEWj1g1T6hAZgmbUpU-AH4NzFqeOkYUH1M8nyJua/s320/Monalisa2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p></div>Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-23036626543181451912020-03-30T03:04:00.001-07:002020-03-30T03:05:44.345-07:00From Fahima Ife<h4>
4 Feb - 12 March 2020</h4>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aw, my stay in Paris! It was so easy to write in the 6ême. I came here to revise my first book, a blended work of three long poems and an essay. In the first week, I was so continuously called by the night, that I wrote an entire new stream of poems! In the second week I received the entire form of what will become my second book and feverishly followed its call. At the beginning of my third week I finished manipulating, reworking, listening to, and compiling everything in my first book. I cried for having made my way through. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My daily ritual—I woke to a cool morning gray or blue, had a cup of jasmine green tea (or cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger tea), looked out the window, listened to “Suiren,” from Pauline Oliveros’ album <i>Deep Listening</i>, read an essay by Mary Ruefle from </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Madness, Rack, and Honey </i>(or an essay written by Fred Moten, Susan Sontag, Édouard Glissant, or Jacques Derrida), read poems from Layli Long Soldier’s <i>Whereas </i>or Dionne Brand’s <i>Ossuaries</i>, wrote in my journal, wrote poems (and non-poems), made meals for myself, talked with people I love in the States. </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the time in between writing and sleeping, I went on many walks: back-and-forth to Les Nouveaux Robinson on Cherche-Midi for groceries, to Marché Raspail on Sundays for organic produce (and to talk with new friends), to The Red Wheelbarrow bookstore, to Jardin du Luxembourg (to hear the trees), and on and on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though I had to leave two weeks early due to the coronavirus pandemic, I am more grateful than gratitude for this experience.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-54429148486932450542020-02-26T04:03:00.002-08:002020-02-26T04:05:05.794-08:00From Montse Gallego<h4>
16 Dec 2019 - 4 Feb 2020</h4>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I arrived in Paris on the 16th of December 2019, in the middle of the longest transport strike of its revolutionary history. I had the pleasure of having my first fraternal experience right there in the Gare du Nord, when after waiting among dozens of people for a never coming bus and dragging my huge suitcase, I stepped on the road and stopped a taxi. A young parisienne woman immediately came along greeting the driver and asking him if she could</span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> also</span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"> jump into the vehicle with me. I don’t speak french but it wasn’t difficult to understand what she meant. The driver was telling her that it was up to me, and of course, I was very happy with helping and supporting in my modest way the french resistance cause, after all it is still a remarkable example in the global struggle of our societies. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was really excited at having ahead seven weeks of freedom in, for me, an unknown but mythical city, sheltered in a cozy sixth floor garret from where I could fly along its lighter sky and legendary roofs with the magic carpet of my writing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I couldn’t offer a generous enough feedback about my experience there, but perhaps I should start by saying that for a fifty seven years old woman, mother of three, grandmother of two, who for the first time in her life has seven weeks just to focus in her writing, gratitude is too small a word for what I feel. I came with a long year's project that has been slowly developed among many other tasks, always lacking enough solitude to be able to finish it, so my time in Paris has been so precious that I am pretty sure I made the best of it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was welcomed by John Pluecker, a sweet friendly poet from Texas who had been cooking me lunch while waiting for my arrival and handing me the keys of the castle. He showed me the secrets of the lodge and the main sites of the surroundings before he parted back home.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am not a very good friend of maps and plans for touring, and I don’t posses a smartphone as a modern compass to guide the directions of my endeavours, so, apart from a few looks at the google map overview of the city to visualize the positions of some of those places where I really wanted to go, I spent most of my daily walks wandering the back streets where the traffic was less brutal, looking up and down the magnificent very well preserved architecture of Paris. By way of the synchronicity in which I believe, I was encountered by a series of treasures left by the rubbish skips, obviously awaiting me to collect them: Books. This happened to me five times, and the most remarkable was that one that contained also three notebooks and a collection of loose sheets of paper, dating 1968, filled with the enigmatic formulas of a mathematician teaching then in La Sorbonne. Until then I had been working on a series of endlessly corrected poems that seemed to be stuck all over the desktop, but that night, fascinated by the mystery of the treasure and the old quality of the paper, I decided to watercolor them over the labyrinth of the formulas to which calligraphic riddles I added those of my words. And that broke the spell of my paralisis.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once the Christmas madness was gone (also very happy of being completely out of its compromises), my intention had been to reach some of the poets and artists proposed by the residency and get more or less engaged in their network. But I was by then so fully immersed in the good rhythm of my writing that all of the sudden I chose to preserve this retreat and keep going rather than getting involved in more arrangements. I have been at the front of Hundred Years Gallery in London since 2011, a place where the weekly program of events, parallel to the exhibitions, keeps us extremely busy socializing with artists from all disciplines, including poetry. So this time, for a change, I needed solitude more than anything in order to make the best of my time there.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Contrary to the idea of writing in the very bohemian cafes (and due to my own humble budget), I spent most of my writing hours sitting in front of the garret’s window. I took many breaks for lunch in Les Jardins de Luxembourg, mostly when it was sunny, and many of those days wrapping myself in a blanket, holding my flask of tea, and writing my notes and new poems in my notebook while contemplating the people playing petanque, children riding ponies, the white statues, the elders doing TaiChi, the joggers, the tree tops getting their early spring aura.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The street market in Boulevard Edgar Quinet and the Montparnasse Cemetery were my regular visit each Saturday, where I did my weekly shopping (and eventually a bit of gleaning as in Agnes Varda’s film </span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Gleaners and I</span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">). Then I ate my moroccan wrap lunch among the stones and graves of the many great writers, artists and bohemians of Paris, Baudelaire, Simone de Beauvoir, Sartre, Man Ray, Brancussi, Julio Cortazar, Tristan Tzara...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Dubuffet Foundation, which is at ten minutes walk, was also one of those little gems I very much enjoyed visiting. I spent three hours there, contemplating his works and the corners of its beautiful run down patio and roofs, writing in complete silence (just one visitor apart from me came along) by the huge window of the main galleries.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Le Jardin des Plantes</span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was another place really worth visiting. Remembering that Julio Cortazar was inspired by one of the creatures living in a tank of its reptile house, a gecko, to create one of his unforgettable short stories, I went there twice. I walked into the greenhouses, I sat on its benches and recorded the interesting sounds coming from the zoo, something like a faked symphony of the jungle behind the green walls that I used later for one of my sound & voice poems.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another recommended place for peace and silence is the little romanesque chapel within the Saint- Germain-des-Prés Church. The main church is an astonishing recently renovated Gothic treasure, but the stone chapel (go through a very old door on the right side of the hall, before the glass door of the main church) was my favourite. Very warm and isolated from the noise and echoes of the busy street, in this almost bare space I sat several times to reflect on those ideas hovering my mind and eventually compose a few lines of verses.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I had many more discoverings just by way of chance during my long walks but the two that took me to the actual of the contemporary parisiennes were the regular protests that marched all over Paris. Twice I was caught by this fantastic river of people demanding to keep their rights in a very celebratory manner, singing, dancing, shouting, whistling, arms in arms one with another, not just in a pacific way, but in a truly egalitarian one. Worker unions and many other groups with different social claims of gender, race, queerness, culture, immigration, ecology, climate change...all raising the voice of the people to defend the people. The great barricades of the police, robocop type, making sure that the </span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">liberte</span><span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> wasn’t taken for granted.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Very sadly I left Paris the 4th of February 2020, after welcoming Fahima Ife, the poet arriving from Lousianna. We had a very nice chat and a quick exchange of common ideas and places, and again, that strong and clear sense of experiencing yet another synchronicity. Very much the same I felt the day before when I met Elizabeth Hansen, our generous host, with whom during also a brief conversation, very soon I discovered that we were talking about the same life purpose, swimming the same overwhelming current. Both passed me a little torch, and perhaps and hopefully I did the same, with which to keep lighting the shadowy path of my own journey and the words I am intending to leave behind.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #434343; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thank you Elizabeth, Johnn, Fahima and all the amazing Trelex Team.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-74408877318758007222020-01-07T09:37:00.001-08:002020-01-07T09:37:55.666-08:00From John Pluecker<h4>
28 Nov - 17 Dec 2019</h4>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-71615794577959209482019-07-09T03:55:00.000-07:002019-09-10T13:22:49.971-07:00From Eléna Rivera<h4>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">1 March - 31 May 2019</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14.666666984558105px;">At the exact half-way point in my residency (I had just been looking at the Caravaggio’s in a very crowded Louvre—irritated by all the people rushing to see the Mona Lisa) I heard that Notre Dame was on fire. Notre Dame?! I walked and walked and walked, trying to wear out anxious emotions which this terrible event had arisen in me. It became a way to think of my residency, before the fire and after the fire; it became a marker. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14.666666984558105px; text-align: center;">Before the fire there was watching spring flowers and new leaves arrive first slowly then in profusion; there was a pink tree in the Jardin du Luxembourg (an acajou de Chine ‘Flamingo’); there were days spent at the American Library writing and reading; there was swimming at the foot of the Tour Montparnasse and Qi Gong in the park; there was Agnès Varda’s death; and there was a deep sense of solitude that I hadn’t experienced in years that stimulated my imagination as I faced the blank page. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14.666666984558105px;">After the fire, I became more focused in my writing; I started missing Russell; the Gilets Jaunes kept marching on Saturdays. There were solitary days and days of meetings with poet and artist friends; Wim Wenders on the ceiling and walls of the Grand Palais at midnight; more readings (including one of my own for the Ivy Series at Berkeley books); Franz Marc and Auguste Macke at the Orangerie; Hammershøi at the Musée Jacquemart; the stained glass at the Sainte-Chapelle; and always there was writing at the Jardin du Luxembourg, at a café, on my couch, and at the kitchen table. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14.666666984558105px;">The Trelex Poetry Residency made it possible for me to focus on poetry and the imaginative, without concern to the results of my endeavors. It also provided solitude such as I hadn’t experience in a long time in a way that made understanding certain things about myself possible. Kindness and generosity were shown to me time and time again. Walking home after a reading, the sheer joy of being in those Parisian streets at dusk. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 14.666666984558105px;">Friendships, solitude, the importance of the arts, the balance between community and solitude; what gifts! Many thanks to Nina Rodin and Elizabeth Hansen and to everyone at Trelex who made my residency possible, the reverberations of which I will be experiencing for a long time to come.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-70599291930625847782018-02-17T08:26:00.000-08:002018-09-04T08:27:44.173-07:00From Kristin Sanders<h4>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">17 Feb - 1 May 2018</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">“One must love during an instant… as one loves the crimson hues of the sun at the moment when it disappears below the horizon.” -Valtesse de la Bigne </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">I arrived on February 17th, in the year of our godforsaken ‘Tit-Rump, from sunny and warm San Luis Obispo, California, to catch the tail end of a Paris winter. It was cold and snowy, and an even colder front was coming soon from Russia. And then the internet went out. I spent time in the neighboring cafes, using what wifi I could find for WhatsApp plans, feeling a little lost and disconnected. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">Within a short time, I’d managed to get a French SIM card and phone number, and the apartment had new fiber optic cable wifi installed, with the help of the fabulously generous and patient Elizabeth Hansen over the phone and friendly wifi technicians in person. I met some neighbors in the elevator, a lovely couple who invited me in to see the architecture of their apartment (a number of garrets combined into one) and offered their assistance, should I ever need it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">And then it was spring, and I was reading at the Luxembourg Gardens or picnicking in Parc des Buttes-Chaumont with friends. And— these friends! What began as a few American poet acquaintances in the city ended as a community of supportive, engaged friends, always going to readings, inviting me along, hosting literary events, inviting me to their art studios or out for wine or dinner. I felt instantly welcomed into a remarkable group of women poets: Jennifer Dick, who invited me to read at the Ivy Writers Series; Lisa Pasold, a friend I knew from New Orleans; Carrie Chapelle, another New Orleans connection who became a close friend; and Christine Herzer, artist-poet who I met at the Ivy reading and former Trelex resident. And everyone knows Laura Mullen, of course, and everyone knows Cole Swenson, too, and I'm sure I'm forgetting others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">What a brilliant, loving community I was lucky enough to be welcomed into, with the help of the Trelex residency! And in the meantime, between the readings and literary events; the hours spent at the desk in front of that dazzling view; the books bought and read from Berkeley Books and The Abbey and Shakespeare and Company; the nights wandering the streets, feeling alone and safe— in the meantime, I lived and wrote in Paris. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">Never again will I have the chance to live in a beautiful apartment on the Left Bank with such a generous, luxurious stretch of time and no responsibilities to get in the way of writing, reading, and thinking. I thought about what it means to be an expat, what it means to migrate, what it means to be privileged in this particular way. I read Sylvia Beach’s memoir and took note of the addresses for the original and second locations of her bookstore, Hemingway and Joyce’s hangouts, Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas’ apartment— all within walking distance of the Trelex residency. I realized that every time I walked down Rue de Fleurus to the Jardin du Luxembourg, I had passed the Stein and Toklas home, and the plaque on the wall commemorating it. And another American expat, Natalie Clifford Barney, who, for sixty years, held weekly literary salons at her "Temple of Friendship" on Rue Jacob, also just down Rue de Rennes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">I worked on a chapbook of poems I like to call “Je déteste mon président,” because I do, and I tried to say this to everyone I met, in my stilted French: “Je m'appelle Kristin, je suis Californien, je suis un écrivain féministe, je déteste mon président.” The response was either, “Yes, how could this be?!” or “Ours is just as bad.” Or, as one American poet reminded me, “Honey, a country is not its president.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">And in the darkness of this political moment, I loved. I loved in an instant. I loved because it was easy to love what I could hardly comprehend. I loved because of the female statues throughout the city, the very feminine quality of it, a city imbued with intellect and art. That I couldn’t comprehend the conversations around me, that I didn’t always know exactly where I was, that a map on my phone told me which Metro line to take to arrive at the exact right spot and on time, that I found and lost a French lover, that I found others still, that I fell in friendship-love with my girlfriends, that I wrote in the midst of it all— only served to remind me of what it means to be a poet: someone in love with the world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">A reminder I needed, we all need, and for which I am eternally grateful— especially to Elizabeth Hansen, Nina Rodin, and Abi Box</span><br />
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Rebecca Molloyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16933032958387055932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-75203302461916689392017-11-14T04:49:00.001-08:002017-11-14T04:49:10.631-08:00From Keri Smith<h4>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">08 Nov - 13 Dec 2017</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">“Parisian itineraries. Leisurely strolls quite obviously (and fortunately) unknown to the tourist trade, for there is nothing to see on these routes except for poetry in the rough, which paying travelers would never appreciate: the poetry of masonry, cobbles, boundary stones, carriage entrances, dormer windows, tiled roofs, patches of grass, odd trees, dead ends, byways, blind alleys, inner courtyards, storage sheds for coal or building materials, wreckers’ yards; the poetry of workshops, still vacant lots, bowling alleys, bistros-cum-refreshment stands; the poetry of colors but also of smells, a different smell for every doorway. Serpentine itineraries winding on endlessly, interminable itineraries open to anyone who knows how to wander and how to look.” - Jean-Paul Clébert, Paris Vagabond</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The last time I took a long trip out of the country I was in Buenos Aires by myself in 2013. Since then I’ve mostly traveled with friends, or alone to places where there would certainly be a lot of my friends, and for that I’m very thankful. But these were the same friends who when I got back from Argentina asked me, what did you do? And then they didn’t believe me when I told them, well I really just walked around. I wrote. I read five or six books. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I understand why they don’t believe me because these are the same friends that see me at three A.M. ready to go on to the next spot, or back to my house. When I’m around people I’m lively. I like chatting. I like drinking. I like being upright for as long as possible. But when I’m alone I revert back to my early childhood years of solitary observance. I always have a book with me, and I can walk for hours on just one cup of coffee. I pass up long dinners for a loaf of bread at home or in the park maybe. I take my book to bed with me shortly after 10P.M. and I’m up with the sunrise at 7. No one ever believes me. But because I love people I love travelling to places where I can be alone, sitting in a cafe surrounded by couples having their intimate conversations. To walk past doorways where someone is cooking dinner. To smile graciously at strangers. It’s one of the reasons I love New York, it’s easy to feel alone, but comfortable. Alone but like you belong in the busy world around you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The apartment in Paris is perfect. Things seldom look just like their pictures but this place does. As soon as I got here I flung open the double glass panes of the window. Light lit up the hardwood floors. I did something I haven’t done in a very long time- I unpacked. Every single piece of clothing. I lined my books up. I plugged everything in. Then I went out to my favorite tea store (Kusmi teas are in my cupboard at home too) and the market where I filled the kitchen with the things I needed (bread, good olive oil, goat cheese, yellow tomatoes, Bordeaux) and I went to sleep. I woke up at 3A.M, jetlagged and happy. I opened my computer, and I started writing. My friend sent me a roll of film he took when he was in Paris with his band over the summer. I studied his pictures and I wrote accompanying poems. In the real, after breakfast, morning I set off to find those places. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> It’s hard not to think of oneself as being monk-like, with all the Catholic imagery carved into almost every stone on almost every corner. But for someone that doesn’t usually have a routine, it seems appropriate. Normally in my week I work late hours at a bar, usually have a drink or two with my coworkers after and if I’m lucky make the smart decision to go home and answer emails or read. Sometimes there’s just too much to do. In New York there’s always a show, or a friend in town. Then in the mornings I either have to run straight to work, either to the bar job or to edit poetry submissions for Hanging Loose Press, or I want to go to a museum or get lunch with a friend or just sleep in and order Chinese food with my boyfriend...sometimes it’s hard to find the time to do laundry, let alone write, or answer emails from friends, or send letters, etc. When you’re working and also in love suddenly there’s just less hours in the day. Here it’s the whole opposite. I wake up 7, I stretch out on the floor like an overweight, old cat (I will turn 32 here alone next week). I attempt to do some kind of derelict yoga. Then I make my Russian black Kusmi tea, answer emails and listen to NPR, and then drink more tea. I try to study French for the next hour either listening, writing, or talking to myself. Then the next two hours I write. I write two poems for myself, then three or four for Andy’s photos (I suspect we will have a zine put together by the end of the month!) then I try to work on an essay (like this one). After that the sun should be OUT, so I go out with it. I walk around buildings, sometimes going into museums, but nothing serious yet. I only sit down in restaurants for coffee, I haven’t given into a full meal yet since I’m still in love with the markets and my kitchen. Then when the sun is going down around 5, I come back and clean up. I do the dishes. I sweep. I wipe the counters. It feels good to have the time to be responsible for a space, and to my body and my inner self. Then in the late evening I read, drink more tea, and finally write until I think it’s at least a decent hour to go to bed. I don’t think anyone will believe me, but I will have the poems to prove it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://inquisitiveeater.com/2017/10/18/">Keri Smith</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12693859390487367718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-39958078340320374992017-11-01T11:13:00.000-07:002017-12-17T11:13:38.326-08:00From Laura Mullen<h4>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">01 Oct - 01 Nov 2017</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">This photo, taken from my worktable in Paris (during my residency at Trelex Foundation) makes vivid the solitude and peace (as well as the easy access to nurturing stimulation!) which are so vitally necessary. The notebook I was asked contribute to an archive at the University of Auckland is seen here, open to the blank page--that terrible and wonderful invitation, that great challenge. The opportunity to confront that space of possibility unites writers and scholars at every level, and I will keep this image in my heart as I return to my teaching and mentoring. We all start from and return to this (alone): nothing. This image reminds me to honor that space—and I post it here as a souvenir, to say that I am grateful to have had this tremendously productive and nourishing sabbatical.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.lauramullen.biz/">lauramullen.biz</a></span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12693859390487367718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-59257040567513874812017-04-19T06:12:00.000-07:002018-02-10T06:52:03.878-08:00From Christine Herzer<h4>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">18 Jan - 18 Apr 2017</span></h4>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 13.3px;">I WROTE THE FOLLOWING DRAWINGS:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"><i></i></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;"><i>feeling</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">unanxious </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">unabandoned</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">angels</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">resistance</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">disappointment</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">loss</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">absence</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">separation</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">the heart does not want to participate</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">REPETITION</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">the voice of the woman poet being extinguished</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">Christine Herzer 'the voice of the woman poet being extinguished', (2017); Marker, Pencil on Paper, 26 x 80 cm</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;"><br /></span> <span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">le rêve n'est pas mort </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">happy </span><span style="font-size: 13.3px;">[View from the Trelex Studio]</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">Christine Herzer 'happy' (2017); Marker on Paper, 65 x 50cm</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">I read my poetry for <a href="http://ivywritersparis.blogspot.fr/2017/01/mardi-14-fevrier-2017-christine-herzer.html"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #0069d9;">Ivy Writers Paris</span></a> , a monthly bilingual experimental poetry reading series curated by Jennifer K Dick. </span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 13.3px;">I led a </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BS6lsDtlCDN/?hl=en&taken-by=houdojnik" style="font-size: 13.3px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">writing [language/art]-workshop</span></a><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 13.3px;"> inside of Sarah Knill Jones Painting Studio. (Sarah kindly/generously let me transform her studio...).</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">My 'Coup de Coeur':</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.3px;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; color: #0069d9;"> <a href="http://www.villavassilieff.net/" style="color: #666666;">Villa Vassilieff</a></span></span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 13.3px;">, a new cultural establishment owned by the City of Paris. Within walking distance. The library is fantastic.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;">Many thanks to Elizabeth Hansen, Heather Hartley, Sarah Knills-Jones, Astrid Dick & Anne Marsella for studio visits & enriching conversations.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-kerning: none;"><a href="http://christineherzer.tumblr.com/">Christine Herzer</a></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12693859390487367718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-41257511935175433522017-03-16T12:19:00.000-07:002017-03-16T12:22:14.599-07:00Jerwood Compton Poetry Fellowships<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELQaUuK-kCAEUykUTwggMw1RJxR9uamXHdAySOym5pHbHTqVkdPavbZEVvBYaJPjoiRD6s7Igzk5qMaGc5Wo-3qeuNW_fUYEdkg8s6s1uV2r2w7V2TXTzupReiSqhBJi5uy5HDxk9tK0b/s1600/HD_121130_1213-1024x675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELQaUuK-kCAEUykUTwggMw1RJxR9uamXHdAySOym5pHbHTqVkdPavbZEVvBYaJPjoiRD6s7Igzk5qMaGc5Wo-3qeuNW_fUYEdkg8s6s1uV2r2w7V2TXTzupReiSqhBJi5uy5HDxk9tK0b/s320/HD_121130_1213-1024x675.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A significant new development opportunity for poetsThe Fellowships support individuals whose practice encompasses poetry in the broadest artistic sense, investing in the process and practice of making poetry.<br />
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There will be three biennial editions between 2017 and 2022 supporting a total of nine artists. Successful artists will each receive £15,000 to support a year of Fellowship alongside mentoring and a network of critical friends. Nominations have been made by a list of specialists working across arts disciplines and the first three Fellows will be announced in June. <a href="http://www.jerwoodcharitablefoundation.org/projects/jerwood-compton-poetry-fellowships/?ct=t(March_E_newsletter_2016)">More...</a><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12693859390487367718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-7923347816821162662017-01-15T05:51:00.000-08:002017-07-17T06:31:56.266-07:00From Mary Reilly<h4>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;">30 Oct - 2016 - 15 Jan 2017</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> In August 2016, I received an email from Cole Swensen. A friend of hers was starting a poetry residence in Paris and had asked her to recommend an inaugural poet for the program: a stay (free) of up to three months in an artist’s garret in the Montparnasse district of Paris. There would be nothing asked of the resident, no proposal required, except that she use the time to further her practice. Was I interested?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Bedazzled, ecstatic, I couldn’t believe the offer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Having just returned from a summer in the city, I was eager for the chance to go back. I spent June and July of 2016 working on the preliminary aspects of a translation project - funded by the Beesen fellowship - investigating the work of female French poets yet to have their poems rendered in English. I passed the time attending readings, engaging with Paris’s international poetry community, and studying the work emerging from the many brilliant, accomplished poets that form that crowd. This brilliance is not limited to poems produced, but rather permeates the very nature of the poets and makers I encountered (including Cole Swensen, Eleni Sikelianos, Sarah Riggs, Lily-Robert Foley, Kevin Holden and many more) and the warmth of the welcome they extended.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> So, I put my New York life back on hold, packed up my things and booked a flight.I arrived November 1st a bit dazed from the flight, but full of hope and eager to begin work. Elizabeth’s husband met me at the courtyard entry, inviting me in and graciously carrying my luggage inside.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The apartment is just lovely. Like a jeweled nest, it sits at the top of a grand, ornate Haussmann-style building on the Rue des Rennes. Each aspect of the studio is carefully curated with everything a person could need to live happily and a poet could need to write happily: from spatulas to extra sponges to paper clips and pens.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I remember feeling overwhelmed by the generosity and care of the offering. What faith must Nina and Elizabeth have in art and artists to make such a gift. Humbled by this faith, this generosity, I was determined to honor it with work.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I woke up each day and sat, drinking tea, at the kitchen table, looking out the garret's large window and watching the early morning activity along the set of small alleys that wind behind the Rue des Rennes. Inspired, for once having enough time to myself and no external pressure, I set out to render a small collection of poems, my first chapbook. Again, I don’t remember a more hopeful or happy week of my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The U.S. election was, of course, on my mind. I had been watching, with horror and deep pain, as each week a new Trump scandal unfolded. But I was sure that sanity would prevail and, backed up by the information provided by every major media outlet, that Hillary Clinton would be my president. My horror turned to fear as Comey made his infamous statement about re-opening the investigation into Hillary Clinton’s emails. But still the polls predicted a clear win for the Clinton-Kaine ticket.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I went to sleep early on Monday the seventh, wearing a Hillary Clinton t-shirt and my dad’s old donkey pin for good luck.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I woke up on the eighth to a text from a close friend. He was so very sorry I had to wake up to this all alone in Paris. He didn’t write either candidate’s name or announce a winner. He didn’t have to. The whole world caved in on me, darkness and weight everywhere. I began to cry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The neighbor from next door, also an American, heard me and came over. We sat in one another’s arms in the small attic hallway and cried.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The next few weeks are a blur. I cried everywhere, on the street, in the Monoprix, out for drinks with friends. Dazed and desperate, I could barely eat or hold a pen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I spoke with friends in New York. How could we let this happen? What can we do now?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> The French were only kind. I had been here during the Iraq War a dozen years ago and did not meet any such sympathy. At that time, every American was an emblem of illegal war, a representative of George W. Bush himself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> After Brexit and now Trump, with the Austrian elections looming and LePen rising in the polls, there was a sense in the city that we were in this together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I don’t know what happened. Nothing got better. I didn’t get used to it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> But I began writing again. What else was there to do?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I wrote a poem about the election, about my willful ignorance and my complicity in Trump’s election,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> That everyone should seem at ease, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> take comfort in, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">might feel the least </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;">discomfited by these precious </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> lyric-things:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> poets being clever, being cute,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> hip in hats, living elsewhere: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Vermont, Paris- places to be pure in </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> when the world is just too much</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> and all there is: poetry, a neatening.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> In England’s Middle Ages, when everyone was an idiot and a slob </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> and dying, to reconcile life with God</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> the poetry was really weird (brushing broadly) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> darkness, frailty in grendels and green men, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> monsters mourning, babies dead</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> demons adroit outside as in</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> at tricking fair hero and audience to sin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Meantime, nowadays,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> an article in the paper of record </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> written in the style of Sam Shepherd </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> told of poor whites in some raw place, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> colorful people but full of hate,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> who spend welfare checks on flags and guns </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> and blame their lives on Blacks and Clintons- </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> the “downwardly mobile” among us, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> unskilled (useless), hopeless, toothless</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Boogeymen of my liberal white dreams, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> of course, they fuck us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Thank God for writing and for the time and space to process this disaster.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> And thank God for community.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> I began exchanging emails with Jennifer K. Dick, a friend of the residency and something of a legend in the poetry community. Founder of the Ivy Writers reading series, the second longest-running bilingual poetry reading series in Paris, Dick offered me the opportunity to translate the work of Manual Duall for the series anthology. Dick also invited me to contribute to a brief talk on poetry-translation with two other poet-translators at Berkely Books.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> At around the same time, author, performance artist and friend of Trelex Anne Marsella invited me to take part in a feminist salon at her home. A wonderful night, six women, of different disciplines and philosophies, joined together to create a night of poetry, music and performance art. Anne’s living room was packed with people, an enthusiastic audience of Parisian intellectuals, journalists, makers and critics. The party after was a blast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Later that night, I returned to the garret to take part in, via skype, a reading in New York. Hosted by artist Katrina del Mar to celebrate the opening of her show Feral Women: Filmed Portraits at the Leslie+Lohman Prince Street Project, I joined an all-star line up that included poets Eileen Myles, Pamela Sneed, Ml Elberg, and del Mar herself, followed by musical performances by Karyn Kuhl, Genny Slag, Kaki King and Fiona Silver.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> January 15th arrived too soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Living in New York, survival is a scramble. One must work so hard just to live. Writing poems can feel like an indulgence. The further I move from a consistent practice, the more hopeless, foolish even, the entire enterprise comes to seem. What even is a poet? And who, especially now, needs poems? In my time at Trelex, Paris, I remembered. Me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Once, in my twenties, I didn’t leave the five boroughs of New York City for three years- the stretch only broken by a friend’s invitation to housesit for her upstate. Arriving at the Woodstock bus stop, I felt gutted, emptied out, as though, in breathing fresh air and seeing uninterrupted sky, my soul could finally acknowledge the experiential poverty of the years prior. That week, swimming in fresh water, walking barefoot in soil, I remembered how deeply I am bound with nature, how it fills me, how there I live.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> An image that comes to mind is that of the English Bulldog, who, inbred through generations in conformity to an unnatural standard , can not breathe adequately. This accounts for breed members’ characteristic wheeze and sluggishness. Hooked up to oxygen, a slobbery, lethargic bulldog will become energetic, lively, itself, as it breathes fully for perhaps the first time in its life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> My time at Trelex was not unlike this. In the time and space the garret provided, I could write; writing, I could breath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Showing up to my desk everyday, for hours at a stretch, I was able to push past, through continuous attention, problems that have blocked me for years, problems that I was unable to solve in the hours here-and-there on evenings and weekends that normally form my writing schedule.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> After days of sitting - writing, erasing, getting nothing done - the poem would appear out of nowhere, in a kind of ghost-form, a shapely brain vapor. And so, I would come to know, suddenly, what needed to be. However, without that initial time and attention, often a tendious, desperate affair, this all-of-the-sudden-ness would never have occurred, would not have been allowed to occur. In the days, weeks, months, (often frustrating, even painful) that follow this initial intuition, I would then try to find out just how to manifest it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> And so I made poems. And when I did it right, they were true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Six months after my stay at Elizabeth’s, I remain homesick for that alcove in the rooftops of Montparnasse where I became a writer again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Speaking last night with Kevin Holden, the garrett's current resident, at a poetry reading at Reid Hall, I acknowledged my awe of Elizabeth and Nina. I remain humbled by these women, the force of their commitment and their generosity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"> Thank you, Trelex team. You are a gift and a wonder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 11px; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; white-space: pre-wrap;">maryreillypoet.tumblr.com</span></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12693859390487367718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-30838655773447363142016-09-12T05:56:00.001-07:002016-09-12T05:57:19.803-07:00Building on a history of welcoming 100+ artists<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal;">
As Hugo Yoshikawa arrived in Switzerland in august 2016, the Trelex Residencies welcomed their 100th Artist. To celebrate we mapped out all 100 artists, showing roughly where everyone had arrived from. <br />
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Hover or click on the dots for information on each artist. And by all means use the map to find Trelex Alumni near you and either continue the work of exchange of discussion which you will have started on your residency if you are an alumni yourself or find out about their experiences if you are considering hosting or attending a Trelex residency yourself. <a href="https://trelexresidency.carto.com/viz/c39123a8-62d0-11e6-a2bd-0e3ff518bd15/embed_map">[full screen]</a><br />
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Nina Rodinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07762735401279716079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5115709213294685312.post-17767505548526438792016-06-07T10:22:00.000-07:002016-08-24T03:55:45.098-07:00Opening soon...This residency is not quite open yet. The studio is ready, but we are still working on the website to be as complete as possible so potential artists know exactly what to expect. We are also gathering a network of artists and people interested in poetry who will be available to meet with the residents and help them find their bearings in Paris.<br />
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So until we are ready to take the first bookings, all we can suggest is that you follow us on twitter and Facebook (see links to the left) and start to think about spreading the word to poets who you believe would be ready to make the most of this opportunity.<br />
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Hoping to welcome you soon,<br />
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Nina Rodin, Elizabeth Hansen and Abi Box.Nina Rodinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07762735401279716079noreply@blogger.com0