Her Name is Waves
May10

Her Name is Waves

Waves shapes her into us. With all we seek to manifest together, we aim for what Ellen McLaughlin describes as “a shore [we] have never visited.” We are excited to see our first Waves Anthology cresting toward a collective of advocates ready to receive her, moving her into the publication process and, eventually, our hands. Her name is Waves and she is 300 hundred women’s voices strong, both established and new, swelling out from a call that began in the desert of Abiquiu to “make room for women’s creative, unguarded responses to each other’s voices and concerns.” Since then, AROHO has evolved and expanded that call to “make room” for any woman, anywhere in the world, who wants to stand shoulder to shoulder and manifest a new paradigm for creative women. In every movement of our Waves together, we make our way to a new shore.     “[At] the sight of breathtaking magnificence created by human minds and hands … I have no fear nor anxiousness … I have an agreement to fulfill. There is much work to be done.” – Jessica Jay Dee, excerpted “Potentially Human,” The Q...

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Virginia Taps on Our Shoulder …
Apr19

Virginia Taps on Our Shoulder …

  Virginia taps on our shoulder, reminding us: The room is yours, with whom are you going to share it, and upon what terms? This is the work of lifetimes, and this circle is a lifeline, especially when what we need is so much. We take heart in this season, holding new seeds in hand. We’re grateful to share this room with you.   View these women’s creative works in fuller excerpt and presentation...

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What Doors Do Ancestors Open?
Apr16

What Doors Do Ancestors Open?

No woman can emanate an archetype continuously. Only the archetype itself can withstand such projections such as ever-able, all giving, eternally energetic. We may try to emulate these, but they are ideals, not achievable by humans, and not meant to be.” – Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype Carolyn Gall begins with Eve in a world anew, while Irma Vazquez finds herself in the belly of Pachamama, the Incan goddess of fertility. Camille Christian’s Maiden falls through Wonderland to become its Queen. Valerie Forde-Galvin’s Crone speaks to passages of life while Rebekah Blake retells a modern mythic tale of a Giving Tree, finding solace in her sisters. And what of the Wild Woman? Estés says, “The doors to the world of the wild Self are few but precious… If you have an old, old story, that is a door.” What doors of memory or creativity do your ancestors open for you? Do they play into or against your personal artistic intention and practice?     Read these women’s works in full or in fuller excerpts here. Interested in our current Gifts of Fellowship? Find out more...

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Do I Identify?
Mar01

Do I Identify?

“Now I am a woman again – as I always am when I write.” – Virginia Woolf, Diary, 31 May 1929   Do you identify as a creative woman? In all the unique ways women express themselves through words and art, universal identities arise: I am a writer. I am a musician. I am an artist. I am a benefactor …. Our claimed identities connect, forming a net, a collective expression of who we are and what we call ourselves. You are invited to share your “I Am” identity when you submit your own creative response to the featured Q, so that we may gather the widest truth possible across the terrain of modern-day creative women. Submit your creative response here. __________________________________________ Patricia Anne Corriz, Jayashree Krishnan, Hélène Cardona, and Beth Surdut shared their claimed identities and submitted creative words and art in response to the featured Q. You are invited to read their full works here. __________________________________________ Born and raised in Santa Fe New Mexico, my greatest desire was to be an artist since the age of 5.  Having sold my paintings at The Santa Fe Fiesta, a workshop with the Santa Fe 400, my confidence was given through AROHO, who first displayed my artwork on their gallery. Who Am I as a Creative Woman? By Patricia Anne Corriz (Panne Winterbird) Who Am I as a creative woman? I ask myself As I look up to the skies and See a gallery of unpainted pictures And stories that are yet to be told. Although I look up and see The Greatest Story ever told Written across a Heavenly canvas. Creation. Who Am I as a creative woman? My painted skies The stories I tell And the many sighs That get me through the process. __________________________________________ I was born and raised in India in a very spiritual family. I learned and studied Sanskrit and philosophy through college. I moved to the US when I was 21 and studied/taught Mathematics. 3 years ago, I quit the job to become a full time artist. “I Am Not My Body” by Jayashree Krishnan   __________________________________________ Greek, Spanish, French and American, the daughter of immigrants and an immigrant myself, I speak six languages. With a masters from the Sorbonne and fellowships from the Goethe-Institut and Universidad international de Andalucía. I taught at LMU and Hamilton College. I’m a poet, actor and translator, author of seven books.   “A Mind Like Lightning” by Hélène Cardona Stars scribble in our eyes the frosty sagas, the glowing cantos of unvanquished space. – Hart Crane   Without gravity I fly into a thousand pieces, add sparkle to...

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Who Am I?
Feb16

Who Am I?

“Love, the poet said, is woman’s whole existence.” – Virginia Woolf, Orlando   Perhaps each of us would respond differently to Woolf’s claim; but if Maya Angelou asserts “love recognizes no barriers” and Linda Hogan reminds us that we are “the result of the love of thousands,” our paradigm of love expands to our ancestors, to the woman next to us and those to come, to our creative practice, to ourselves. Submit your creative response here.   Susan Florence, Venus Prado, and Sandra Inskeep-Fox submitted creative words and art in response to the featured Q. You are invited to enjoy their full submissions below. __________________________________________ “I, Creatress” by Susan Florence I, a creatress, was born to carry the life force. All of us women, pregnant or not, were built to create, nurture, care about, and relate to others. I was not born to be a muse for the writer, a study for the painter, or an inspiration for the poet. I was born to create. Like the women I see at the markets in Mexico who embroider birds that fly in green threads, weave yarn into purple mountains, string tourquoise beads into jewelery, pound panela for cheese, and stir spices and chocolate for mole, I too, must live my urge to create as I paint, as I write, as I attend my garden. But I won’t be sewing. I have no patience for this. Where is my creative self? It is here. When is it? It is now. What is it? It is me, here, now. How is it? It opens, it receives, it allows.     “My favorite color is yellow and yes, my real name is Venus… I try to love but am imperfect. I am imperfect and trying to believe that it’s okay.” – Venus Prado, “I Am Human,” The Q     “Izle”: a floating spark, an ember by Sandra Inskeep-Fox What starts a poem? A cold night on a long road home Comfort begins and grows As izle flames. Who knows at which point spark becomes fire Or from whence the spark. First there is nothing, The stretch of the grey snaking road winding on ahead Boredome perhaps as well, or discontent, or some Meanness of soul that needs addressed. It could be Even the oxygen of happiness that fuels it all, Me sitting as some full vessel wishing as usual to overflow And you all unaware. Forty or so cows lie shadowed in soft-lighted shelter Which even in the snow seems cozy warm And one alone stands in concert, lowing his hymn To the Understanding One Proof against the calmness of the herd...

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I Begin to Say Something
Feb01

I Begin to Say Something

“There’s no doubt in my mind that I have found out how to begin to say something in my own voice.” – Virginia Woolf, Diary, July 26, 1922 Have you begun to say something in your own voice? Our collaborative narrative offers a place to start, to continue, or to return to what you want to claim. In creative response to January’s featured Q, one woman finds herself interwoven with doubt and strength, another resurrects herself with music, another claims herself a multi-mirrored funhouse. To help another woman say something in her own voice, published poet and clinical therapist, Kristi Crutchfield Cox offers guided consultation and a generous gift basket for “Claiming Self.” This gift is for one woman, woman-identified, or They inclusive. We continue with a question central to the heart, to claiming “the thing itself.” I wander. And I wonder. And I worry About everyone I meet. I wonder. And I worry. And I wander Until I figure it out. The story’s old, but so am I. There goes the day catching on fire. – Melissa Ann Sweat, Lady Lazarus, “Wonder, Inc.,” The Q Watch and listen to the song, “Wonder,” here. _________________________________________________ “In the Funhouse”  by Robin Stone I am two sided, eight sided, one hundred sided, a funhouse mirror. One flat surface reflects me cleaning the cat litter, setting alarms, buying groceries, hurrying to work; thinking a thousand crazy thoughts where anxiety and torpor live. One surface, not visited often enough, is where I count blessings for this lucky lucky life. The other mirrors make me large, small, fat, thin, distorted with joy. Then, I sink and flow with kindred souls. They step through with me to a timeless place of safety for dangerous ideas and laughter. Together we create objects, words, music, scents,and hope from the jumbled pile of life detritus. We make something new and sweet. Like a baby. No one can do it alone. _________________________________________________ “Am I?” by Marta Szabo I am creative and definitely a woman, but it has taken me all of my 61 years to be able to claim those words. Creative. Was I? Enough? I mean, compared to all those whom everyone had heard of, and all those who didn’t work 9-5 so they could write or paint — did I count? Was I an artist? It was the loftiest title to claim, and every time I measured I fell far short. But yes, I am. Not one that looks like what I thought artists looked like, but my god I am one. Though sometimes, hearing about another’s life, I still wonder and have to find my way...

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We Are the Words
Jan22

We Are the Words

“We are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself.” ― Virginia Woolf, Moments of Being We “are the words” and we are quickened by the truths women have claimed in the past year, echoing a resolute awareness of our creative selves, our collective wisdom, and our legacy. In 2019, we carry forward our shared purpose by expanding our collaborative narrative with The Q, preparing the Waves Anthology for publication, and continuing the Gifts of Fellowship. Inspired by a woman who creates “the extraordinary from the ordinary,” published poet and clinical therapist, Kristi Crutchfield Cox offers a prismatic invitation this January for her Gift of Fellowship, a deep, joyful work of “Claiming Self.” Inspired by your words in The Q, we harness its potency into a focal point, and invite you to submit a response – your words, your art, your music, your own creative riposte, however you are compelled – to a featured question we will pull each month from The Q, our “room of our own.” Women’s responses will be published in digital Waves, tindering a unique ongoing dialogue by and for women in the world of arts. We begin with a question central to the heart, to claiming “the thing itself.” You are invited to submit a creative response here....

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Gifts of Fellowship
Nov16

Gifts of Fellowship

GIFTS OF FELLOWSHIP In November 2018, we began with the Legacy Fellowship from AROHO founder, Darlene Chandler Bassett. The following December, we rolled out three more Gifts of Fellowship from Esther Cohen, Breena Clarke, and Marsha Pincus. Now, together and building on our shared purpose, we resolve to continue gifts of real help and support for women into 2019. In response to the needs you’ve shared with us in The Q, the richness of these gifts of real help come in pearls of support from phenomenal creative women. All of the Gifts of Fellowship have been shared in detail in our digital Waves and releases. We are excited to share our winning fellows for the December Gifts of Fellowship below.   Congratulations to the Anna Sorocor Fellow, Karen Hildebrandt! In honor of Anna Sorocor, a Rumanian immigrant “who told her life in one long amazing story,” this fellowship gift is named and brought to you by Anna’s granddaughter and legendary author, poet, and executive director of Bread and Roses, New York’s own, Esther Cohen. From concept to book I can help. My gift is for one recipient, to figure out what she needs to make her book. – Esther Cohen   Congratulations to the Edna Payne Fellows, Elizabeth Buckner, Erin Ferdinand, and Kerri Quinn! In honor of Edna Payne Clarke, “a woman of sharp intelligence and indomitable spirit” who nurtured two writers, Cheryl Clarke and Breena Clarke, this fellowship gift is named and brought to you by Edna’s daughter; author of Oprah Book Club selection, River, Cross My Heart; and co-founder of The Hobart Festival of Women Writers, Breena Clarke. Put your best foot forward when you read your own work. Work with me and I’ll share my insights on choosing your materials and the effective use of props. I will work with you via email and in a two-hour video conference to help you choose the best material to read and will share techniques and tips for presenting yourself and your work effectively. – Breena Clarke   Congratulations to the Two Ravens Fellow, Tori Grant-Welhouse! Feeling drawn to the land of Mabel Dodge Luhan and Georgia O’Keefe, she came to Santa Fe to begin writing her one woman show, Chalkdust. As a Jewish woman and revered educator she had lived most of her life doing the work of tikkun olam – to engage in work to heal the world. For her, a casita of her own became time for tikkun hanfesh — to go inward and heal the soul. Not long after successfully completing and performing her play, she returned to Santa Fe to buy that casita, and she...

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Mirrors, Trail Finders, and Citizens
Oct26

Mirrors, Trail Finders, and Citizens

“As a woman my country is the whole world.” – Virginia Woolf   As we continue to imagine a borderless song-map together, may we mirror one another’s truths and doubts, lose our trail and find it, and claim the light of our dreams.   We invite you to read Molly Howes, Alison Hicks, and Monteque Pope-Le Beau’s pensive poetry submissions to “Where I Am From” in full below.             “Where I Am From” by Molly Howes   I’m from a vagabond trail, a band of small travelers. I’m from the taste and safety of a warm sea. I’m from academic offices and esteem.  I’m from forever opening the next door, diving deeper into what I don’t know. I’m from a circle of loving women’s arms. We hold each other’s broken bones until they knit together. We celebrate breathtaking depth and grace. We mirror one another’s truths and doubts.   “Where I Am From” By Alison Hicks   A place of seasons, mixed forest, evergreens, and hardwoods. Where sugar maples turn orange and red, whose sap, collected in spring, boiled down, is poured hot onto snow.   I grew up in a farmhouse that had once been a tavern, on the road to a town now sunk beneath a reservoir. There was no heat upstairs, only what rose.   I have traveled to warmer places, pitched a tent in the desert, watched the sun set below raised arms of saguaros, sipping from a thermos of mulled wine.   Then back to places of granite and rain, smell of leaf-litter. I live on a warming planet and struggle to know what that means: lesser snows, greater rains, drought, flood, disaster.   I have stretched my body out on the Canadian Shield. I’ve lost the trail many times, then found it, or maybe another one.     “Where I Am From” by Monteque Pope-Le Beau   I am from the spike of the universe created by a mothers love. Born from the passions, Freedoms and creativity of my home in California. I am from a rebellious spirit climbing trees , skateboarding down hills , snowboarding in high snow covered mountains. I am from libraries of wisdom and distant lands. Experiencing cultures of long ago and those of not so long ago. I am from the world and I am a citizen of the world. Living a wondrous creative life Guided by my mother until her passing. I am from the darkness of despair and the light of my dreams. I am from tragedy and of hope. I am an artist, poet, and storyteller. I am from a...

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Movement and Our Song-Map
Oct13

Movement and Our Song-Map

This past Monday, I read new poetry by indigenous women, and they made my migratory bones hum. It spoke to the question: What is my deepest need? My instinctive answer is movement. At the Ghost Ranch Retreat 2015, I shared how the white feather can be a symbol for our journey, inspired by the Cherokee Beloved War Women, whose extraordinary courage and compassion merited a swan wing. Here’s what I’ve learned about our song-map: movement doesn’t just get us farther along, it brings us closer together; and we’ll need all the courage and compassion we can give each other for the journey ahead. As the editor of this bi-monthly Wave, I am one of a few who have the profound, humbling experience of reading your responses and creative submissions in The Q. They could fill an ocean. How do we even begin to harness and release such movement? Wave upon wave. Here’s an update on the Waves Anthology from our mother editor, Diane Gilliam: “I’m getting closer every day to a version that will be ready to submit. Contributors will soon get a request for clean, formatted copies of their pieces, and then the Waves Anthology will start finding its way out into the world.” All submissions for our first print publication, Waves Anthology are closed; but if you submit creative work within The Q, we receive it with open hearts and hands for potential publication in Digital Waves. I’m also happy to share we will be rolling out a new website in the new year, which will better serve the needs of our community and refine the creative spaces we offer and want to create together. Thank you for your patience and your continued presence. Here with you in the journey, To read more about the White Feather Story inspired by the Ghighau, the Cherokee Beloved War Women presentation by Sun Cooper with a response by Maxine Hong Kingston, please visit Follow the Buffalo, The White Feather Story. To read more new poetry by indigenous women curated by Natalie Diaz, read Lit Hub. To see more gorgeous feather fine art photography, visit Erica...

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From Cacophony, I Show Up
Sep28

From Cacophony, I Show Up

“But you exist somewhere. Something of you remains.” – Virginia Woolf, The Waves   When Ramona Reeves asked what she could do for herself and others because she didn’t have to wait, she flung open a red tent in Austin. Making space for others often begins with making space for ourselves. How often do we, as women, bring fragments of our own lives together in order to liberate our deepest need like Lauren White, find ourselves in the cacophony like Anna Dixon, and show up like Katherine Rocheleau? In opening spaces for ourselves and each other, we find our existence and share what remains. We invite you to read Lauren White’s invoking “Boxes” in full below. .   “Boxes” by Lauren White Tucked away in my closet There are boxes, inconspicuous The first is labeled “Things” My old graphing calculator Other dusty, miscellaneous nothings Shall I call it my metaphorical attic? Safe are the items I thought I’d need again The things I thought I might want later But have forgotten I possess Next is the one with “Stuff” “Feel better, buddy,” on an old ziplock bag The scent of Snickerdoodles long gone Remember that time I was in the paper? Old laughs, randomness, and stupidity The stuff that I was gifted long ago That the givers do not remember Then, there’s the “Ideas” box It contains all the cut out recipes For things I forgot I wanted to make Oh, you thought it held my eurekas? No, nothing so special as that Only the ideas I did not acknowledge The magic I have suppressed Lastly is my box of “Secrets” Journals and notes I’ve written to myself About Versailles, lost loves, people I once knew How many poems have I not finished? Scribbles, fantasies, and incomplete stories Secrets bled from my veins into words That no one will ever read They have one commonality, those boxes Stifled by lids, reserved for silence In the empty spaces unfilled by trinkets Listen! Can you hear the whispers of the past? There are ghosts fighting to be free Intermixed with the future I fear The intangible me I cannot let anyone see Under years-bred layers of lint Born of trepidation and negligence The things and stuff I cannot let go of The ideas and secrets I cannot tell A glimmer of my hidden heart I beg you! Unearth me! Open me! Let loose my passion, my authentic soul Tucked away in my closet There are boxes, inconspicuous Tucked away in my closet is...

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The Outrageous Guarantee
Sep14

The Outrageous Guarantee

  In The Q, the question was posed, “What am I free to do for myself and others because I don’t have to wait?” I thought a lot this summer about this question and what I don’t need permission to do, what I don’t need to wait for, as a creative woman. After returning from a summer writing conference, I decided to host a gathering of women in Austin, a small gathering. The idea started with this question from The Q and with another AROHO woman sharing an interest in attending the Texas Book Festival the last weekend of October. Then one or two other women mentioned interest in the same event, and I thought, “Why not make it a thing?” So, it’s a thing. I have, give or take, 14 women – some local and some from out of town – showing up in Austin the last weekend in October to read work, attend the festival, and, hopefully, build more community for each other. Kristi Crutchfield Cox will lead women through an art project, and ire’ne lara silva will be reading for us one morning. I’m excited to be hosting this gathering, and I must give a shout out to my next door neighbor. Among many things, she’s a painter and designer with an incredible yard that houses a large gazebo cloaked in red fabric, yes a red tent. I asked if she would be willing to let us meet there and if she might be willing to host a few writers. It was a big ask, but she generously said yes! It’s a small step, this gathering. The women who attend will make it what it is, as always happens when we come together, whether virtually or face-to-face. I’ll leave you with a photo from photographer Katrina Simpson that reminds me of the richness of possibility in not only where we come from but who we connect with in our creative communities. I also hope ire’ne lara silva’s words, from a keynote address on writing and community she recently gave in Dallas, will inspire and give you permission to do that thing you want to do, that thing you don’t need to wait for. Stay tuned the last weekend in October. We’ll be tweeting using #womenmakewaves! From me to...

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Something Rising Beneath Me
Aug24

Something Rising Beneath Me

“And in me too the wave rises. It swells; it arches its back. I am aware once more of a new desire, something rising beneath me.” – Virginia Woolf, The Waves   In response to Breena Clarke’s recent Waves on making space for ourselves and others and our ongoing invitation for shared dialogue, creative women around the world are submitting their words through The Q and participating in #womenmakewaves. While Nora Jane Child posed a poignant question on Twitter, Samantha Schinder and Sacha Rosel responded to questions in The Q about our deepest needs, creative selves, and our space within the world with powerful poems. We welcome you to read them in full below. We are aware once more, something is rising.       “My Deepest Need” Samantha Schinder   An immersion of words Trickling flow of conjugations stampeding down my limbs Onto paper like steam From the sauna of inner release. I cannot unstick myself Until the words are sweated out. Do they make a merry mess? Sometimes more so than others. But the process is still the same. The ritual of relieving The pent-up letters Dribbling down the pen Until a break, A breath of refreshment, of outside, As the words melt into place Or else evaporate into otherness. “Flowerseeker” Sacha Rosel   Writing is first waiting: here comes the qi emerging from the sky condensing into words blooming beyond my eye. Then it’s green sea of possibilities unchained, singing from my hands and bones, flooding the page. Flower neverending. “Women against the World” Samantha Schinder   Hammering constantly from all sides. Help                      You are not good enough.                 Help Us                            You are not pretty enough.                        us Fight.                                   You are not enough.                            Conquer Enough. How Do we Combat an onslaught Ragin’ at us from all sides? The defense           against a     Hammer                 is a shield  But is not                  a shield      Such                   a blunt       Ignorant               unwieldy      Object?                    Not  ...

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Make Space for Ourselves
Aug14

Make Space for Ourselves

Serendipity is the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. I’ve always liked this idea and I think some of the best things in my life have unfolded in just this way. In response to the dialogue in The Q, I’ve pondered the question of how my creative identity gives me confidence to branch out and build space for others in my life and how serendipity and confidence have led me to co-found The Hobart Festival of Women Writers. The creation of what has come to be known as The Hobart Festival of Women Writers, a three-day event held annually in the small Western Catskills town of Hobart, New York since 2013 on the first weekend following Labor Day, unfolded from ideas that took root at the AROHO Retreats at Ghost Ranch. Namely, that it is vital to make a space for the celebration of women authors and that we’d have to make that space for ourselves. The opportunity to support the work of women writers in a meaningful i.e. useful way is one of the things I enjoy most about working on The Hobart Festival of Women Writers with my sister, Cheryl Clarke and her spouse Barbara Balliet and the others in our core group of volunteers in Hobart. And I’ve come to realize that, in addition to providing an opportunity to read and teach, archiving the writers’ work with slideshows, videos and blogs is an important part of supporting a platform dedicated to promoting women writers. We’re pleased to know that we’ve influenced others as well. Take a moment to browse through the books offered by our participating writers. As the Hobart Festival of Women Writers continues its growth and development, we imagine ways to make space for ourselves and move beyond boundaries. Won’t you come and join us? Yours in Sisterly Serendipity,...

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We Assemble and Rise
Aug10

We Assemble and Rise

“The wave has tumbled me over, head over heels, scattering my possessions, leaving me to collect, to assemble, to head together, to summon my forces, rise and confront ….”   – Virginia Woolf, The Waves In response to our invitation for shared dialogue, creative women around the world are participating in #womenmakewaves. We are aware that Twitter is one venue of engagement among many, so we are grateful for your presence on this particular thread to comment, respond, and share women’s voices. This invitation will remain ongoing and inclusive. We are honor to share some recent posts here with you. Wave upon wave, we assemble and rise....

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A Part of You and You and You
Jul13

A Part of You and You and You

We all draw different words from each other and are a part of each other. We are honored to share an excerpt of “Mother” by Carolyn Gall. We invite you to read her full work below. In the spirit of Carolyn’s call, we want to take a special opportunity to invite you to become a part of a shared dialogue. Comment, forward, or creatively respond to women’s words and art shared here in digital Waves on AROHO’s public dialogue thread via Twitter. Be sure to tag @aroomofherown and to make yourself seen by us and the community by using the hashtag campaign: #womenmakewaves Aligned with our shared purpose, we ask that responses “encourage and celebrate dialogue and art which springs from a source of resolute awareness.” Wave upon wave, we lift each other. Your presence is everything. “Mother” by Carolyn Gall   I’m from Eden, Adam and Eve Do not be deceived I’m from Mesopotamia I’m from Academia The deep forests decay From the ocean and cay When the planet was new And creatures were few. I came to partake of the splendor To become part of life as it grew I’ve been here forever Some call me mother, some Earth, I’m a part of you and you and...

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We Beat Our Breasts and Hum
Jun29

We Beat Our Breasts and Hum

“We must pull ourselves up out of the chairs. We must find our coats. We must go.”  – Virginia Woolf, The Waves In the purl of news, we bring our hearts and minds to bear witness upon the events in our world, past and present, our own and others. Whether at home or on the borders, we recognize distinct experiences and our voices respond in letters and art, going in the direction we are pulled, whether by grief, love, or other human impetus. Women have submitted resonant work in The Q, and we are honored to share these compelling excerpts of “Beating Their Breasts” by Eva Lipton-Ormand and “The Humming” by Noel Canin. We invite you to read their full works below.       “Beating Their Breasts” by Eva Lipton-Ormand   Closer to the sternal notch but in proximity of the xiphoid process, sits the thymus. They say it is only active through childhood and then shrinks in puberty. It is where T-cells are produced; it is an endocrine gland; it aids immunity. It does not aid the immunity to mental/emotional pain, but since time immemorial, women have wailed and beaten their breasts, unconsciously bolstering themselves from despair and disease by expressing their grief and activating their immune systems. Ginny, stop, goddamnit, I can’t watch this another minute. My mother grabs my fist, tries to pry open the fingers. She starts with the index finger but by the time she has reached the pinkie, all the fingers are clenched once more. Like a mallet, the hand rhythmically descends on my sternum. Pain is physical. Pain is emotional. Pain is mental. Pain hurts. It sears, burns, grinds, punctures, stings, penetrates, wrenches; its jagged pieces of glass rhythmically stab deeper into the heart. Ginny, let me get you a cold washcloth for your eyes. They’re all puffy. Do you want something to drink? When’s the last time you ate? Ginny, Ginny look at me. I know this is hard but you have to take care of yourself now. My girlfriend Doro means well. She’s replaced my mother on the chair next to mine and is touching my arm, my shoulder, leaning in to me, trying to catch my gaze. I don’t know exactly when she showed up here. I don’t know who told her to come. Actually, I called her. I don’t know what time it is. I only feel this gaping hole inside. Earlier, at 11 a.m. my cell phone rang. Mrs. Virginia DeAngelo? Ms. Ms. DeAngelo? You’re Darien’s motha? God, I hate that nasal drawl. Yes. Ms. DeAngelo, this is officer Pete Graziano. We need you to come here...

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Mend the Part of the World Within Our Reach
Jun15

Mend the Part of the World Within Our Reach

“Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.” – Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés Para la traducción al español desplácese hacia abajo. In The Q, a question was posed for me, What am I free to do for myself and others because I don’t have to wait? I understand reciprocity is sometimes misconstrued as scorekeeping, but instead it is better understood as energetic resonance. What most resonates with energy you can meet? What lifts your energy? What clears a path two or more can walk together? I met Tiffany Papageorge in Colorado in 2014 at a retreat with Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Four years later, she reached out and shared her obstacle: bringing her book to a language she did not speak and connecting with a community that often asked if her book was available in Spanish. Her obstacle resonated with my desire to do Spanish work with my husband and bring a bilingual book launch to The Bronx Book Fair. My husband and I helped her translate and launch her book on children and loss, My Yellow Balloon, in Spanish as Mi Globo Amarillo. This collaboration unleashed countless events, book sales, and TV interviews. Her act of sharing obstacles with me and my act of clearing a new path took on an energy and life of its own. At The Bronx Book Fair, I offered what I had learned as a creative woman as both a writer and teacher to the writers in my workshop. I asked them to plan their projects in full sight of obstacles because they are invitations to new possibilities. Share your obstacles in The Q. Join an artist or two and invite your obstacles for tea and biscuits or cafe con leche y pan tostado. Slowly we accept the invitation to see a new path for ourselves and for others where once there was only a wall. From me to you, de mi para ti, Melissa Coss Aquino   “Arregla la Parte de Nuestro Mundo a Nuestro Alcance” En The Q, se planteó una pregunta para mí: ¿Qué puedo hacer libremente por mí y por los demás, sin tener que esperar? Entiendo que la reciprocidad a veces se malinterpreta como intercambio de resultados, pero en realidad se entendería mejor como resonancia energética. ¿Qué más resuena con la energía que puedes palpar? ¿Qué levanta tu energía? ¿Cuándo se despeja un camino, dos o más pueden caminar juntos? Conocí a Tiffany Papageorge en Colorado en 2014 en un retiro con la Dra. Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Nos...

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Through Our Mothers
May31

Through Our Mothers

“We think back through our mothers if we are women.” Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own (1929) On the heels of Mother’s Day, we want to honor all creative women, recognizing our stories are born from women before us, nurtured among us, and inherited by those who come after us. Amidst what we can do and hope to do for each other, we remember our collective need for validation remains largely nominal. Together, to that end, we seek first and foremost to end the isolation of women and embody what we can achieve together as mothers to ourselves and to each other, receiving and widely sharing each other, till no woman remains...

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And in me too the wave rises
May07

And in me too the wave rises

“And in me too the wave rises.”—Virginia Woolf, The Waves Excerpts from our earliest digital Waves. To receive our bi-monthly Waves publication, share your email address with us.  

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