Counting and What’s Counted On by Robyn Hunt
“Counting and What’s Counted On” by Robyn Hunt “Nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy.” (Virginia Woolf, Orlando) I know for sure: 1 I am married. 2 I own a home. 3 I write poetry – creating metaphor where others claim they cannot. 4 I have a daughter; she lives elsewhere now. 5 My grandmothers, both storytellers, lived well into their nineties, and in one...
Erotics of Making by Barbara Rockman
“Erotics of Making” by Barbara Rockman The woman brings her body to the page the way a climber clamps her thighs to the rock face the way a lover drops the last garment the way a girl crawls into a copse and, singing, arranges acorns and logs the way a mother skips away from the departing school bus. What is arousal? Words at the pen tip, ink rich as...
The Task by Alison Hicks
“The Task” by Alison Hicks Late at night into the time before dawn is best. Too easy to put off in the afternoon— how long until cocktails, a swim, dinner? Salvage enough to approach sideways, crab-like. Lighted by what you wanted, present what you’ve lifted proudly, though it might be refused. You could be drinking, pouring a mug to really twist you up. Instead you’re here. When it is dark it seems...
Against My Own Current; Out in Plain Air by Lisa Lutwyche
“Against My Own Current; Out in Plain Air” by Lisa Lutwyche I haven’t worn a swimsuit in over fourteen years. I’ve walked on a beach or two, sat by swimming pools watching other people swim, but always wearing shorts and a tank top myself. The only people to see my torso uncovered, or barely covered, have been medical personnel, my husband, and my brave, then fifteen year old daughter, right after my...
Make a Body by Nancy Meyer and Janet Trenchard
“Make a Body” by Nancy Meyer and Janet Trenchard First chip away at a block of granite, pour water over it, rub with oil. In her hands, the heft of chisel, hammer, pitcher. Dust whitens the floor, leavens her hair. Studio walls close in, tools slip, she wheezes with each breath. Should she leave it out in a rain storm, hope for lightening’s magic crack? Climb above tree line, spine against the boulders’ heat,...
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August 8-9 | immersion | noon to noon EST
WAVES ALIVE is an immersive experience, held tenderly by the ebb and flow of ritual, sisterhood, creative expansion, then surfacing to share what we have uncovered about ourselves and our art. Creative sisters are invited to join us at any point and remain for any length of time during our full-circle offering.
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The Deepest Place Jul 26, 2025
