I consider my writing to be a companion, accompanying me into the new year. I recently started writing another memoir, this one about growing up as the eldest of 11 children. Writing through 2025 will be an up and down affair and I’m anxious to bring my young self to life on the page. Thank you for your poem, Stephanie. Beautiful.
Marianne, wonderful that you're writing a new memoir -- and yes, a roller coaster of feeling and grace I'm sure. I have a sense that your younger self is chomping at the bit to have her voice be added to the page!
You have that exactly right. Feels so good to let it all out now that my parents are gone. Just not sure some of my siblings will be happy about it. Just have to remind myself that it's my story to tell.
What an achingly glorious reflection, Stephanie! And the poem... You and Lady Day--I can feel that connection, hear her voice, smell that smoke-filled room. I am grateful that you are writing, thinking, feeling, reflecting. Your window on this life is enriching and nurturing. What a treat to get to know you through your words! (And thanks for the shout-out. I'm happy to contribute my mite of encouragement to your journey.)
I am so happy with your mite of encouragement on the journey, Sus. What an epic journey, this life. And to be blessed with the desire and impetus to capture in words -- just sublime. Happy New Year, friend.
This is a beautiful piece, Stephanie. What a surprise to find your treasured writings near garage.
I like you right through it all. I heard somewhere yesterday that we write long enough we always find the hidden treasure, no matter how hard or messy or painful. Eventually, the treasure is found.
Thank you for the mention
So wonderful to have you in the circle the other day.
Loved being in circle with you yesterday. True that if we write long enough, we find the hidden treasure. Isn't that why we write? I hadn't realized that I'd been saving my writing for some thirty-five years, but there it was, an artifact of days gone by. Absolutely delicious. Happy New Year to you and your girls. You touch my life, deeply. Thank you.
Strange to see this today. My post going out later today – I write once a fortnight – is about letting go of all our old records. I am 82 and I started collecting age 12.
Ann, true confessions -- I only got rid of my old records a few years back. In my youth, that turntable was constantly spinning! In my musical heart, there is still nothing a wonderful as that vinyl!
Ann, my record collection was truly eclectic. When I was a kid, my grandfather was given all of the records that were in a jukebox when the owner of the diner decided to upgrade. So I had a copy of the soundtrack of the musical Manhattan along with Ricky Nelson singing Wake up little Susie!
There was also a weird song about a rambler that had “beep beep. How do you get this rambler out of second gear?” as its final line. honestly, you can’t make this stuff up.
Happy New Year, Stephanie! And you started this New Year with a fabulous post. You are a true artist, honing your writing craft and stretching your writing muscles. People like Billie Holiday had such a profound influence, and even though that era has passed, artists of that time continue to affect us today. I LOVE your poem, especially the metaphor in these lines:
"you love ‘em because they gargle with razor blades
their throats bleed
and we all relate to the pain
Lady Day was the best
singing the Duke like nobody
smokey soul
smooth black
her throat just bled natural"
It's so true that art helps us access and express our pain to the world. And your poem does that, as does the rest of your essay.
Have you thought about publishing a book of poetry? If your other poems are this great, you could certainly do so.
I'm starting off the year painting my pain onto a nude draft I've been working on and will be revealed Friday. By channeling my pain onto breast cancer art, I feel I am bearing witness to the agony that is breast cancer.
Thank you so much for the shout-out. I so appreciate it. You inspire me so much, too.
Dearest Beth, I have thought of publishing a book of poetry. I have yet to give myself a time to create poems daily. Poetry comes and goes within the writing of my prose. But maybe this year, I'll find the rhythm of focus and concentration on just that. . . so many possibilities. . .
I'm excited to see the next draft of your work. The Breast Cancer Art that you share moves me deeply, as I'm certain it does others.
Cheers to new beginnings and all of its awaiting creations. Big hugs. . .
One of the beauties of writing poetry is the ability to read out loud at open mics. I have found this so enlivening to touch others literally in the same space with my words. so hold it gently, Stephanie, this may be your year for a collection or maybe you just decide to show up at a Poetry open mic from time to time.
Hi Beth. I too am channeling the experience of breast cancer into art, in my case poetry. “Given Time,” a mother - daughter cancer memoir, will be released by finishing line press in March. I feel that those of us who have been touched by breast cancer are called to explore the unique happiness that knowing we have limited years to share can offer.
Thanks for the shoutout Stephanie! We just saw the new movie about Bob Dylan's life, and we went to see it with a good friend who is 81, so she was coming of age in that era too. Your post above makes me think of this kind of longing or yearning and music too.
Happy New Year!!! May 2025 be a year of radical acceptance, love, and appreciation for the dear ones in your life. 🥰✨🌟💖🙏🕊️
Camilla, I have to see that movie. I hear only good things about it. There's a lot of longing in the music of our generation. Happy New Year and thank you for being a part of my world.
Thank you for reading and for taking the time and thoughtfulness to comment. Past and present, are they the opposite end of things, or are they a cycle?
I've been using a timeline and noting what I was listening to and how that connected my life at those moments. Your beautiful poem about Billie Holliday took me to my introduction to and immersion into jazz. I felt things I'd never felt before, felt myself slow my racing mind, and dropping into a new kind of bliss. I add my vote to the next book being poetry. This is one of my favorite posts of yours and I have loved many!
I feel similarly about jazz, Jude. Jazz made me feel things I'd never felt before and I especially love jazz and blues from the 1930's and 40's.
As for poetry -- one of these days, I'll keep the focus long enough to write what's needed for a book of -- Until then, I'll continue to call in the moon to light the way. Biggest of hugs.
I so loved your poem. And I loved that you were transported to another time and place, a Stephanie who is different yet the same. Happy New Year and many blessings…
Past, present and past again -- I cherish the find of old poetry, buried within cardboard boxes in my garage. Such long, full, rich lives we continue to live. Sending you love and much appreciation, Rosemary. You are in my heart.
For me, Eric, I think poetry is what I was then, but could not yet own, and poetry is what I am now and still becoming. Slammed? Used to do readings at a place called Penny Lane off of the Pearl Street mall in Boulder. Good times.
Happy New Year Stephanie! I am thankful I found your writing page, it has become so meaningful to me and often a jumping off place to some thoughtful journal writing. My art form isn't writing and I'm new (three years) into it, but I realize that my best art quilts reflect a piece of my life's narrative. My husband pointed out to me recently that I view life through narrative and that was thought provoking....he's right! This past year, I needed to unburden some old wounds from my childhood and made several collaged pictorial journals. WOW! One of them I will probably never show anyone it was so powerful, but the process of putting visuals from my head/heart onto the page......brilliant!! The best to you in 2025; I look forward to your posts. Jan
Happy New Year, Jan and thank you for your comment. Storytelling takes many different forms: a quilt tells a story in time and place, shapes and designs. My grandmother saved grocery bags filled with fabric scraps. When I was a little girl, those scraps were treasures. I made blankets for dolls, bags for my Jacks (do kids even play Jacks anymore), and those little pieces of fabric had their own story -- they were once a part of bigger things: curtains, dresses, pot holders. My grandmother made so much from fabric.
What you're husband said to you is profound -- viewing life through narrative is viewing life through the arc of story, and we are all connected by our stories. The journaling process is near and dear to my heart, for all the reasons you state -- I'm able to work through sorrows and darkness by writing. And sometimes, a picture from a magazine of something catches my eye and I cut it out and paste it onto the pages. I love that you collage pictorial journals. That speaks to my imagination and I appreciate your sharing that.
May 2025 be a time of continuation. . . put your head and heart onto the page. May you cherish your creative self and allow it room to breathe and grow. All good wishes and goodwill.
I consider my writing to be a companion, accompanying me into the new year. I recently started writing another memoir, this one about growing up as the eldest of 11 children. Writing through 2025 will be an up and down affair and I’m anxious to bring my young self to life on the page. Thank you for your poem, Stephanie. Beautiful.
Wow, the oldest loving children. That sounds like quite a Memoir.
Marianne, wonderful that you're writing a new memoir -- and yes, a roller coaster of feeling and grace I'm sure. I have a sense that your younger self is chomping at the bit to have her voice be added to the page!
You have that exactly right. Feels so good to let it all out now that my parents are gone. Just not sure some of my siblings will be happy about it. Just have to remind myself that it's my story to tell.
Write on, sister! It is your story to tell. Big hugs.
What an achingly glorious reflection, Stephanie! And the poem... You and Lady Day--I can feel that connection, hear her voice, smell that smoke-filled room. I am grateful that you are writing, thinking, feeling, reflecting. Your window on this life is enriching and nurturing. What a treat to get to know you through your words! (And thanks for the shout-out. I'm happy to contribute my mite of encouragement to your journey.)
I am so happy with your mite of encouragement on the journey, Sus. What an epic journey, this life. And to be blessed with the desire and impetus to capture in words -- just sublime. Happy New Year, friend.
Happy New Year to you!
This is a beautiful piece, Stephanie. What a surprise to find your treasured writings near garage.
I like you right through it all. I heard somewhere yesterday that we write long enough we always find the hidden treasure, no matter how hard or messy or painful. Eventually, the treasure is found.
Thank you for the mention
So wonderful to have you in the circle the other day.
💚🌹💜 sending a hug for the full year
Loved being in circle with you yesterday. True that if we write long enough, we find the hidden treasure. Isn't that why we write? I hadn't realized that I'd been saving my writing for some thirty-five years, but there it was, an artifact of days gone by. Absolutely delicious. Happy New Year to you and your girls. You touch my life, deeply. Thank you.
Sweetness sister
Strange to see this today. My post going out later today – I write once a fortnight – is about letting go of all our old records. I am 82 and I started collecting age 12.
Ann, true confessions -- I only got rid of my old records a few years back. In my youth, that turntable was constantly spinning! In my musical heart, there is still nothing a wonderful as that vinyl!
well look out for my post about memories of music past.
Give me a link to your post Ann. I’d love to read it.
https://arichardson.substack.com/p/the-sweet-sadness-of-music-remembered
Enjoy.
Ann, my record collection was truly eclectic. When I was a kid, my grandfather was given all of the records that were in a jukebox when the owner of the diner decided to upgrade. So I had a copy of the soundtrack of the musical Manhattan along with Ricky Nelson singing Wake up little Susie!
Gosh, Wake Up Little Susie brings back memories! Dancing age 15! I can still sing it!
There was also a weird song about a rambler that had “beep beep. How do you get this rambler out of second gear?” as its final line. honestly, you can’t make this stuff up.
Christine, what a boon to get all the records out of a jukebox. Wake Up Little Susie? I too am a fan!
Happy New Year, Stephanie! And you started this New Year with a fabulous post. You are a true artist, honing your writing craft and stretching your writing muscles. People like Billie Holiday had such a profound influence, and even though that era has passed, artists of that time continue to affect us today. I LOVE your poem, especially the metaphor in these lines:
"you love ‘em because they gargle with razor blades
their throats bleed
and we all relate to the pain
Lady Day was the best
singing the Duke like nobody
smokey soul
smooth black
her throat just bled natural"
It's so true that art helps us access and express our pain to the world. And your poem does that, as does the rest of your essay.
Have you thought about publishing a book of poetry? If your other poems are this great, you could certainly do so.
I'm starting off the year painting my pain onto a nude draft I've been working on and will be revealed Friday. By channeling my pain onto breast cancer art, I feel I am bearing witness to the agony that is breast cancer.
Thank you so much for the shout-out. I so appreciate it. You inspire me so much, too.
Dearest Beth, I have thought of publishing a book of poetry. I have yet to give myself a time to create poems daily. Poetry comes and goes within the writing of my prose. But maybe this year, I'll find the rhythm of focus and concentration on just that. . . so many possibilities. . .
I'm excited to see the next draft of your work. The Breast Cancer Art that you share moves me deeply, as I'm certain it does others.
Cheers to new beginnings and all of its awaiting creations. Big hugs. . .
One of the beauties of writing poetry is the ability to read out loud at open mics. I have found this so enlivening to touch others literally in the same space with my words. so hold it gently, Stephanie, this may be your year for a collection or maybe you just decide to show up at a Poetry open mic from time to time.
Hi Beth. I too am channeling the experience of breast cancer into art, in my case poetry. “Given Time,” a mother - daughter cancer memoir, will be released by finishing line press in March. I feel that those of us who have been touched by breast cancer are called to explore the unique happiness that knowing we have limited years to share can offer.
Hi Christine, I'm glad you are also channeling your breast cancer experience into poems. In March, I will look out for and purchase your book.
Thanks for the shoutout Stephanie! We just saw the new movie about Bob Dylan's life, and we went to see it with a good friend who is 81, so she was coming of age in that era too. Your post above makes me think of this kind of longing or yearning and music too.
Happy New Year!!! May 2025 be a year of radical acceptance, love, and appreciation for the dear ones in your life. 🥰✨🌟💖🙏🕊️
Camilla, I have to see that movie. I hear only good things about it. There's a lot of longing in the music of our generation. Happy New Year and thank you for being a part of my world.
My pleasure Stephanie, and thank you for being a part of my world too✨🧚♀️🤸♀️🌼🌷🌈🌺🪷💕
Beautiful and poignant. Thank you for sharing your thoughts about connecting past and present, and also the poem that inspired it.
Thank you for reading and for taking the time and thoughtfulness to comment. Past and present, are they the opposite end of things, or are they a cycle?
I've been using a timeline and noting what I was listening to and how that connected my life at those moments. Your beautiful poem about Billie Holliday took me to my introduction to and immersion into jazz. I felt things I'd never felt before, felt myself slow my racing mind, and dropping into a new kind of bliss. I add my vote to the next book being poetry. This is one of my favorite posts of yours and I have loved many!
I feel similarly about jazz, Jude. Jazz made me feel things I'd never felt before and I especially love jazz and blues from the 1930's and 40's.
As for poetry -- one of these days, I'll keep the focus long enough to write what's needed for a book of -- Until then, I'll continue to call in the moon to light the way. Biggest of hugs.
I so loved your poem. And I loved that you were transported to another time and place, a Stephanie who is different yet the same. Happy New Year and many blessings…
Past, present and past again -- I cherish the find of old poetry, buried within cardboard boxes in my garage. Such long, full, rich lives we continue to live. Sending you love and much appreciation, Rosemary. You are in my heart.
Yes, a different world, another trip around the sun. I'm glad we're in this together, Stephanie.
Me too, Susan. Thank you for you shining the light of mentoring into my world.
For me, Eric, I think poetry is what I was then, but could not yet own, and poetry is what I am now and still becoming. Slammed? Used to do readings at a place called Penny Lane off of the Pearl Street mall in Boulder. Good times.
Happy New Year Stephanie! I am thankful I found your writing page, it has become so meaningful to me and often a jumping off place to some thoughtful journal writing. My art form isn't writing and I'm new (three years) into it, but I realize that my best art quilts reflect a piece of my life's narrative. My husband pointed out to me recently that I view life through narrative and that was thought provoking....he's right! This past year, I needed to unburden some old wounds from my childhood and made several collaged pictorial journals. WOW! One of them I will probably never show anyone it was so powerful, but the process of putting visuals from my head/heart onto the page......brilliant!! The best to you in 2025; I look forward to your posts. Jan
Happy New Year, Jan and thank you for your comment. Storytelling takes many different forms: a quilt tells a story in time and place, shapes and designs. My grandmother saved grocery bags filled with fabric scraps. When I was a little girl, those scraps were treasures. I made blankets for dolls, bags for my Jacks (do kids even play Jacks anymore), and those little pieces of fabric had their own story -- they were once a part of bigger things: curtains, dresses, pot holders. My grandmother made so much from fabric.
What you're husband said to you is profound -- viewing life through narrative is viewing life through the arc of story, and we are all connected by our stories. The journaling process is near and dear to my heart, for all the reasons you state -- I'm able to work through sorrows and darkness by writing. And sometimes, a picture from a magazine of something catches my eye and I cut it out and paste it onto the pages. I love that you collage pictorial journals. That speaks to my imagination and I appreciate your sharing that.
May 2025 be a time of continuation. . . put your head and heart onto the page. May you cherish your creative self and allow it room to breathe and grow. All good wishes and goodwill.
Gosh. The entire concept of poetry relates to the past, for me. Poetry is what I was, not what I am now.
That was a rocking poem, Stephanie! It would make a fine, scoring slam piece if you went that way. Do you slam?
Have you ever slammed? I’m pretty slammy.
Thank you for that poem, it was great!