Small Starts

Good morning! Look at this: 


Pretty, huh.

Yesterday, I participated (online) in a workshop from the North American Association for Environmental Education, entitled "Nature as Inspiration and Transformation: An Intro to Nature Poetry."

I got to spend an hour with Aimee Nezhukamatathil, author of World of Wonders, to be published by Milkweed (one of my favourite publishers) in August.

Here's more:



Interesting, though possibly less "traditionally pretty."

The workshop, though: it was wonderful! Especially because I'm generally intimidated by poetry, both reading it and writing it. And I have an appreciation of others' scientific expertise, which I emphatically do NOT have.

And yesterday, I was reminded that all writing starts somewhere, and a sense of wonder--both in the sense of "awe" and in the sense of "curiosity"--is a great starting point.



Also: the power of starting small. Of keeping journals where you record (in writing and sketching!) observations of the world and sky. Of leaning into the things that make you mad or you don't like.


Maybe those observations grow into something more and maybe they don't.

It was lovely to participate as Aimee encouraged all of us to relax the pressure we might feel--from others, from ourselves--to "be productive" or "create."

Those who follow me on Instagram (where I'm marionagnew) know that fairly often I go over to the beach in front of our small camp on Lake Superior.

I pick up what our family calls "driftglass" and others call "seaglass." And I take pictures of it before I put it into a glass jar, where I enjoy looking at it.

I also write about these bits of glass, which you might have read if you've read my book, Reverberations: A Daughter's Meditations on Alzheimer's. Spoiler alert: they made me think of my mother! And also sheets.

In any case, that's what's on my mind these days: small starts, wonder (awe and curiosity), and, as always, this beautiful place in which we live (and parents and sheets).