On Writing at Hedgebrook - Short Version

The path to Owl 
The borders between midnight and dawn, between the natural world and the one that embraces the gigabyte, are more fluid now. The rhythm of my writing, if I can even call it a rhythm, is to write in fragments, in slow musical patterns, in excruciatingly tentative steps. This summer I began to appreciate hiking up the Discovery Trail and learning the names of hemlock, cedar, mountain ash. Somehow the interruptions and distractions began to seed new ideas and my poetry pushed further into unexplored territory. Wild bouquets of yarrow, mint, and rosemary on the bookshelf actually do contribute to my writing life.

                                   Susan Rich –  Owl, Cottage,  August - September, 1995

Comments

  1. Lovely entry, Susan. Deepened the longing for the experience.

    Cindy

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    1. Thanks, Cindy! It was fun to come across this this morning and feel connected to the time there again. My friend Kathleen has just come back from a stay there and she spent her time in "my" cottage, Owl. Perhaps because I was at an extreme crossroads in my life that summer at Hedgebrook it stays illuminated in my mind. I continue to picture you there - and I know it will happen for you.

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  2. Susan - Thank you for this entry! About two weeks ago I applied to Hedgebrook for the late Spring/early Summer of 2014. I am really hoping they accept me. I am worried that they won't because I am old- 65- ... past the point of being a "poet of promise." Keep your fingers crossed for me.

    Anne

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    1. Hi Anne,

      The year I was on the application committee we accepted a woman who was 80 years old and had never left her family before - even for one night. She was not a famous writer, nor do I believe, did she have a book. She did write a fantastic essay for us and we believed "Why Hedgebrook? Why now?" Best of luck to you!

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