Wasn’t Ted Hughes known as “the wild poet”? Certainly his hair is just what our mind might conjure at the term…
But we’re gearing up for a different kind of wildness in January. It’s the Poetry & the Wilderness/Wildness 6-week workshop, and we’re welcoming people with ALL KINDS OF HAIR. AND NO HAIR.
We prefer to think of Thoreau’s internal howling wilderness, which “does not howl: it is the imagination of the traveler that does the howling.”
Come join us for six weeks of writing guided by the wonderful teacher Anna Catone and her pantheon of wild and wilderly poets:
Wednesdays, 6:30 – 9pm from Jan. 23 to Feb. 27 (6 weeks)
Location: Ada Books
We’ve had poet, teacher, and editor Anna Catone lead a few Frequency studios in the past–
and we always leave with armfuls of poem-drafts and great readings.
We asked Anna, “So why do you want to lead a poetry-writing workshop built around the idea of wilderness/wildness?”
She replied with a quote from John Hay:
“What is it that we’re missing? I think we have an essential wildness in us that is too often stifled. That wildness builds up in us and becomes dark because we ignore it–when we go into nature, we are looking for a release, a dialogue….We are searching for a match for that wildness inside us in the wild land… And in the wild sea, of course.”
-From David Gessner’s book about Hay, The Prophet of Dry Hill: Lessons From a Life in Nature
All are welcome in this workshop—the greenhorn and the weathered woodsmen, the outdoorsy and the city dweller alike!
In our last post we mentioned that poet Robert Creeley, who will be making an appearance in the fall poetry course, Less is More, once wrote on Arnold Street. In the same spirit, here’s an excerpt from Providence-based writer Rosmarie Waldrop’s Lawn of Excluded Middle. Writers in the Hybrid Writing course will be reading more of Waldrop’s work.
In Providence, you can encounter extinct species, an equestrian statue, say, left hoof raised in progress toward the memory of tourists. Caught in its career of immobility, but with surface intact, waiting to prove that it can resist the attack of eyes even though dampened by real weather, even though historical atmosphere is mixed with exhaust like etymology with the use of a word or bone with sentence structure. No wonder we find it difficult to know our way about and tend to stay indoors.
Robert Hass’ book Time and Materials is, according to Slate, “a book about hitting the cold water of late middle age, but the story it tells is not so much of decline as of reinvention.” Want to spend four weeks delving into Hass’ book and writing poems with a supportive, responsive and challenging community? Sign up for Mary Wilson’s poetry workshop today!