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Sitting on the bank of the creek in Warialda on a stunning spring morning just last week; I was with a group of creative women who had come together to ‘Write the Wild‘. We were under the supervision of Stephanie Dale, an acclaimed Australian author, guide, tutor and professional wanderer. We are in good hands.
We spend two magical hours writing about a small New England creek sitting in a tiny town. We write as feet, as skin, as ears, as eyes and as sky. We sit in the dirt and write as the soil of the earth connects us to our subject, though some of us don’t quite enjoy this close connection with ants 🙂
The morning’s most lovely part was when two new friends Joy Bowles, and (pictured above on the right, her name will present itself here soon) came up to the main street of Warialda and became a part of my busking performance as, in between songs, we recited poetry and shared our writing of the morning.
I share below a short poem from the workshop: writing the creek as a foot.
PS: I have just found Joy’s website and about to email her to, hopefully share her writing as well as find out the name of the talented New England poet pictured on the right.
feet feel pulsating the life of our earth
draw to rocks and cool water
feet refuse shoes and all humanness
slowing moving feeling each
blade
of
grass
dirt earth ant insect foot prickle
fade to formless to
nothing, pulsate
life of a whole earth connected
to feet
my feet
(c) Mel Irvine 2014