letters in December

in December
write me a letter
and I’ll be writing letters to you
write a friend
write someone in Warrior Writers
write a letter
write a letter every week
put a piece of paper in the mail


I’ll miss you but we’ll be staying connected through words
building bridges with words

i'm off to the PI, be in touch in 2011. take care of yourselves, and each other
happy hibernating...

poem I wrote today and Veteran's Day assignment

the red bullets
couldn't get the red bullets to go away

No, I'm not talking about the ones he had that were covered in his best friend's blood
which were given to him
they were to be used
they were to be used to kill those two men
Iraqi men
in Najaf
who were sitting next to each other
on the ground
along the side of a building

At least, that's how I remember picturing it in my mind
when he told me about it
I'm trying to remember if he told me in the sun of the day-time
or if this was a night-time story, told in the dark

Yes, I think it was
and now I'm wondering if it happened in the daylight or nightdark

did he aim his sights
on these men
in daylight
or moonlight


See, these are things you get hung up on when you consider giant crazy things like this
because the rest is so overwhelming

I wonder, what it feels like to carry that
how often he remembers it
where does he remember it in his body

his trigger finger
his shoulder

maybe at the smell of
or at the sight of

his triggers I can only imagine

I wonder, if any of ours are the same
Likely not since mine include strange things like bathroom doors, quarters and orange slices

while his may include
loud sounds like fire-crackers or trash on the side of the road

try to imagine fearing that trash on the side of the road could blow up on you and kill you
and your friend

I can’t necessarily feel that in my bones like they do, but one thing I can do is listen


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Writing Exercise

If you could get someone to listen to you, what would you say today, on "Veteran's Day?" That someone can be a certain someone or a kind of someone, the president or your mother, a soul you never met or a liar you wish you hadn't. So, imagine they're ears are ready, to listen...

(of course utilizing video, photography, drawing, music, etc. is exciting and encouraged. post in whatever forms and in as many as you want)


LC

Intrusive Thoughts exhibit in Chicago, Veterans Day - pls send submissions

Hey all,
I was/am gonna submit works from the website but I figured I would put a call out to see if anyone wanted to submit anything and I can add it to the mix. It can be writing or visual arts. Please send it to me directly (and post it on the blog).
So yeah, the title is self explanatory...I think a lot of things could fit into this...

Also, these are the questions we'll need to answer to put with our collection of works. If anyone wants to answer them and post them here or send them to me, feel free. I would love to have this stuff by tomorrow, Wednesday if possible. Sorry such late notice. I'm working on trying to ask for help/assistance/participation more often...but also not sure how/when/what people are able to give.

Artist statement in relation to the theme "Intrusive Thoughts"

"Why does our generation of veteran art need to be shown?"


much love,
LC

fear and loathing

We all live with fear, some more than others, and some times and places more than others. I recently went home to Michigan where I'm from, and where I left. One of the many reasons I don't live there is because the old man that abused me when I was young lives there. I haven't seen him since I moved to Philly, over six years ago. This is what I wrote on the airplane the day that I left town. After you read it, write about something (or someone) that you fear. I think that this honesty about our fears makes them easier to bear, at least then, we're not also hiding. Much Love.


The day I arrived to Cadillac, I got a scare that stuck with me, slithering under my skin till I left town. I was at Meijer with my brother, we had just gotten in the door and for a second, it looked like he saw someone he recognized. But he did not say anything or walk over to anyone, we kept moving. The Meijer in Cadillac is like many small town stores and if you go there, there's no question that you'll see someone you know, if not a few people. The question lingers...who will it be? Oftentimes the conundrum is whether or not you stop and talk, and for how long. Or, do you avoid them altogether?

When I thought my brother saw someone and went the other way, my skin turned to sand and I was filled with fear, anger and grief. It occurred to me that it could happen. That it was possible that I would see him. I might run into the disaster that shattered me. He could be standing in that store and I would have to look at him.

What would I do?

Thank the goddesses he was not there, or at least that I did not see him. But now I'm wondering how I've gotten by these past few years not running into him and it makes me scared about going back. I'm taking a risk every time I go home, every time I go to the store, every time I walk down the street. And I'm also standing up for my life. I am determined to make the choices I want and to spend time with the rest of my family. He will not take any more from me than he already has. I will continue to battle my fears and face them with courage and strength.

LC

Writing Exercise: emotions/sensory poem

We did this at the women's retreat...

1st line: Name a feeling/emotion, finish the line with a color word
2nd: Tell what it sounds like
3rd: Tell what it smells like
4th: Tell what it tastes like
5th: Tell what it looks like
6th: Tell what it feels like


Here is the one I wrote as an example
grief is black
it sounds like tears, hysteria
smells like hospitals
it tastes like the stinging blood on a bitten tongue
it looks like a room full of caskets
and it feels, like suffocation



Much Love,
LC

P.S. I didn't make this one up, and I don't know who did.