Fill Your Paper

I've got no poetry today.  I'm working on a few little things but they are still seedlings and as far as prose is concerned, I'm at a standstill with 'Large-Hearted' as well as brainstorming other new pieces.  It's ok for now though, I was thinking since I'm feeling strained, it was time to crack the books.  By that I mean read a bit.  I was mulling over choices for my next purchase when suddenly I receive a large envelope in the mail, Ruthie's latest short story!  Perfect timing me thinks.  It's fantastic and so I rushed home today to put pen to paper and wrote all of my thoughts and gushy feelings to her.  I was so excited that it's already in the mailbox waiting to be picked up!  

What else this week, oh, Alice Munro is retiring.  Bummer.

Also, if you could, keep my best friend's mom in your prayers.  She started her first round of chemo this week.  Sweet June deserves all the love and positive energy you can muster.  

Oh, I keep threatening myself to a Haiku challenge.  I can't write them for beans.  Maybe while I'm brainstorming, jotting and praying I'll work on the little beasts.

Short and sweet today, like me.

And before I forget, Sheree Fitch released a non-fiction piece on Fierce Ink Press today.  She is worth reading and supporting.  Check it out.  There is a Kindle Edition and an EPUB.  It's an important piece and some of the proceeds are going to a good cause.  

In propinquity,

Nic

PS - Isn't the above Wordsworth quote marvelous?

Propinquity

My favorite word in the English language is 'propinquity'. Derived from the Latin word prope which means near. Propinquity means nearness in space, proximity; close kinship and/or similarity. I was introduced to the word by Sheree Fitch during one of our many conversations we shared during the run of her adult play 'Light A Little Candle' – culled from her book of poetry called, In This House Are Many Women. This was the play I spent so many days working on in so many respects with a group of talented and dedicated females. Heralded (as mentioned in a previous blog) as one of the best times of my life. Sheree and I were talking about the book of poems, writings that explore a very personal and intimate time in her life. She titled one fraction of poems 'Propinquity'. I asked her about the word and as with me, it was passed down to her from someone she both loved and looked up to and solidified the power of kinship and friendship. The rest of our conversation was about the women we admire; mothers, writers, friends, sisters and every women who stood for something. That's what that whole run was about for me, representing femininity, strength, obstacles and rising above adversity. I adopted propinquity. I used it, continue to feel it and share whenever possible.

In my house there are many women. Metaphorically speaking of course. Women who have endured abuse and injustices, women who have loved and lost and stand tall in spite of their trials, women who birth children and raise them as tall trees, women who write, women who sing, women who create, women who fight, women who shape and mold this big beautiful world we live in; nurturing, guiding and building with the tools provided. These women live in my house, they roam my halls, sip my tea, share my meals and their heart. Some of these women share my city, some of these women live thousands of miles away but they are all close in proximity, kindred spirits and my accumulated family, both by blood and breath. Having love in your life is essential to survival but having women in your life who will stand shoulder to shoulder with you, to walk with you and in your shoes when need be and speak for you when you cannot is a special kind of love, it's a unique brand of union and one that has transcended time. Women are doing it for themselves, girls do want to have fun, we are family; in propinquitious unison.

Sheree's word resonated with me. It burrowed deeply into my psyche. It became part of my being and part of the way I forge friendships, relationships and impressions. At least, that's my hope. I personally strive to be a good human, to be kind and loving, to foster goodness in my interpersonal interactions. The people who pass through my life and the ones who choose to stay are important to me. I work terribly hard to convey that. I believe in it, in propinquity. In love and its power. Being human, I have failed more than I'd like to mention but I lead my life with good intentions, I regard those who cross my path with respect and unconditional, non-judgmental care. Before meeting Sheree, I may have partially been that kind of person but because of one word, the stories and the time spent, I re-evaluated my attitude and decided to alter my whole person. Seems drastic to some I'm sure but it's all very true. I turned away from the unsureness of others and opened myself to a whole new way of thinking and behaving. Some life lessons are bigger than others and my epiphany was life-changing. All because of one word.

Whether I've loved you and lost you or I love you and you are present in my life right now, you can be certain that you are regarded in the highest esteem. My circle is sacred and for those of you in it, soulful sisters especially, you are valued and appreciated more than you could ever know and are celebrated for your troubles and your triumphs.

And I leave you with a tiny poem written for a fabulous writer friend, someone I consider to be one of my many soul-mates. She's a intelligent, thoughtful, she's my Helen of Troy and my snail mail buddy.

This one is for you, Ru:

Tea

(for Ru)

your words pour in

steeped in propinquity

over peaceful terrain

sipped with joy

savored with love

a pot of tea with you

is a blessing

Blessings. Count yours. Make propinquity yours. Pay it forward.

In propinquity,

Nic

Curly Grapes

I was out enjoying myself with friends yesterday, soaking up the sun and culture of the Halifax waterfront lined with tall ships.  It was fun weaving through the waves of people, inhaling all of the aromas of food cooking (especially the sweet deliciousness of the Cow's Icecream waffle cones warming) and finally setting at the Lower Deck with my people for shenanigans, libations, laughs and great music.  In the middle of Shaydid's rendition of Adele's 'Rolling In The Deep' I spotted a face in the crowd I hadn't seen for many years.  Upon seeing him, I immediately remembered a poem a scribbled down on the back of a box office envelope I had tucked under my arm waiting around for instruction from the Artist Director.  I was working for a theatre company at the time and I always thought he was easily one of the loveliest faces God had ever awarded a man.  It appears he still has it.  After spotting him, I quietly recalled those years working alongside so many talented and tempermental people.  The theatre world is fascinating.  It was incredible to be part of so many amazing shows, from the germ stages of the first reading to the lights going down on opening night.  It was such a rush, such a challenge to watch and help mount an idea into a full production.  It takes a village and I lived for every second of it.

I was terribly fortunate to work as an assistant stage manager on Sheree Fitch's 'Light A Little Candle'.  Still one the most empowering and awe-inspiring/girl power times I have ever had.  The story was set in a transiton house and packed a powerful wallop.  I was there, stage-side for every single show, waiting for costume changes and the like.  I cried everynight.  Still weeping when the actor playing the eldest abuse character breaks down to reveal her reason for being there.  I knew every line of the show off by heart after a few days and I knew it was coming, yet every single time she'd wail, 'He raped me!' the hairs would raise on the back of my neck and my eyes filled with tears.  Used to make my stomach knot because she delivered that one line with outstanding emotion.  I'd be there helping her change, sobbing.  She would just smile and shake her head kindly and squeeze my arm gently.  So many great stories from that run, perhaps I'll share more on that show/experience at a later date.

This morning after whole wheat french toast and a steamy cup of joe, I dug through all of my writing books and found the poem I scribbled down that day.  Obviously, that envelope is long gone but I transfered it into my writing book once I was home.  You have to write things down where you have to until you can secure them to the pages of your writing book or commit them to a blank Word document.  What a flashback.  Pleasant.  I love to be reminded of good times.  His face and this poem did just that.

Curly Grapes

my eyes found you

leaning (casually)

on the Theatre Post

w/ a palm full of grapes

a pocket full of lightening

& a mess of wild tangles

in your curly blonde hair

you couldn't have been

any more beautiful

when the moon-clock ticked

& I paused to love you



I plan to fill my Sunday with things I love.  A few pages of my book, some writing, a killer playlist, exercise and a few hours with people I love.  And maybe, think a little more about all of the places I've been in my life that allowed me to arrive right here, right where I'm meant to be.  Punches, bumps in the road and all.  What a journey it's been so far.  Can't wait to see where else I'll go and who I'll meet.

In propinquity,

Nic