Where is my mind?
it's lost in a lake somewhere thirty minutes east of here.
poetic musings
woke to a silly sunshower / or at least they make me feel silly / and a note come through the post from Reba Elliott saying it perfectly: “Summer has been slow and fast and mostly too hot and I did mean to write you sooner, but things take the time that they take…” / the sun later was consumed by rain clouds, and this afternoon I went out barefoot to stand in the slow, gentle drops and hug the trees.
I’ve been swimming instead of writing and drawing instead of reading / and feeling bad about that / but then found an email I wrote Reba ten years ago in which I understood that July is a slow, heavy time in my body / and noted as such generally about the hot summers last year here / everyone else rushes off to the lakes and scrambles to mow lawns / tend daily to gardens and attend street fairs / people rummage sale weekly and throw down at family reunions, birthdays, weddings, graduation parties, backyard bbqs / while the atoms that make up my body too easily expand and contract with the weather / too susceptible to the environment / my cells empaths to atmospheric emotion / I spread out / get slumpy / thoughts thicken / everything around me moves too fast / there’s nothing for it, really, except to allow / and on a whim early in July, I found myself in a nearby watering hole / the perfect place, I’ve come to understand, for atoms to expand.
if you’re not on Reba’s email or snail mail list and haven’t heard, they’ve started a new project: nota press currenly eager for your submissions, have a look at guidelines / Reba has been making ephemera, hand-printed and bound books, and other fun paper shapes and art for the last forever, everything I have ever received from them has brought me such delight.
and from here I leave you with a swimming poem by my friend
/ I hope a loon some day allows me to be their swimming companion / the poem can be found in his recent collection The Strange Misgivings of the Sadly Gifted, which I recommend / it first appeared in the journal Sparks of Calliope / he’s reading Saturday, 26 July, noon ET, from his book (and possibly others) at The Purple Couch, N. Andover, Mass. It will also be streamed live over at his publication Operation Risk You/on the Substack app, recommend subscribing / we’ll hear more from Jason on his practice in this space in a few weeks’ time.are the lakes cold where you are?
with love and gratitude,
Cold Lake
by Jason O’Toole
Hold your bones against the wash All your currents open Chest deep, northern waters Cold lake waves numb Sunburned shoulders & Black fly bites Pebbles under toes Painlessly smooth Sparkle when wet Gloomy once dried Disappointingly so The silent appearance of a loon Come to claim the bream Darting past your knees Impossibly long she submerges Reappearing beyond the dock To the Iroquois she was a witch Off limits to hunt & besides, They never had much of a taste For gamey loon meat Fearless of you She shares her lake Not that you gave her a choice After sundown She’ll share her voice Beckoning her mate Now is the silence Before that long, forlorn note That transforms sounds into music Cold lake waves receive your bones All your channels open
in the shop
I’ve posted to the shop three works on paper. And am progressing near daily on the circles drawing. Soon, my friends, soon. I find sitting to draw, or as it is, fill in around the circles, is the July way to regulate my nervous system. I can feel myself step back into myself; my body relaxes and my thoughts clear. I’d love to see one of these drawings framed in your home. <3
in the post
Last week I was eager to head to the post office and put some poetry postcards in the mail as well as a couple of hand bound books. I’m not sure what’s next exactly, but I’m excited to make some envelopes from paintings gone wrong. To be on the mailing list upgrade to paid.
in the world
Oh gosh, I’m pleased to share this with you.
invited me for a chat earlier this month over at The Sober Creative. And it was such a soothing experience. We chatted about art making, generational trauma (TW: domestic abuse), and practice. So, so grateful to Josh and those who tuned in. You can watch the replay here. He has such great chats with artists and poets.invitation to guest post
unraveling, unmoored has some exciting guest posts coming from
on learning to read again after disability diminished cognitive processing and on his poetry writing processes. I’ve got drafts in my inbox waiting for me. We seek guest posts like these and more. Guidelines can be found on the About Page. Please message or email with questions.poems
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I'm really starting to realize that I feel the same way about July. The heat expands my empath cells as well, and we just want to float.
That loon! Oh my heart that witch. ❤️
Way out in the water see it swimming!
Loved the poem shared. Summers are definitely a draining time on the body. Glad you’re having a splash and have so much cool stuff going on 🤘