How to care for yourself when the nights get longer

on the dark as a comfort-cave

Hibernation: A Winter Poem

Let me bury my grief

in a 6 foot long snow cave.

Darken the orange bulbs

of my bedroom.

I will sleep the dreamless blue sleep

of a night sky. A frosted window-pane.

Indigo blue. Turquoise blue.

When I wake up, no one will know me.

It will be my first day on Earth.

All Night

My loneliness stays up with me—

a ghost in a silk blue kimono.

A cap veils her round grey eyes.

When I touch her, I become smoke.

Invisible. Sshh. I love every form of invisibility

that's also a tenderness.

I see a tear dangling down my eyes. I pluck it.

I press it hard enough against my wrist

for it to become skin.

My loneliness, my ink—

let me write with your black quill.

Dance with your night song in me:

nearly burning my throat.

New Writing Workshop: The Things We Carry

What is it to carry something a grieving body, a tired body? A suitcase full of dreams?Some realised, some unfinished, & some that haven't even been born yet? Letters sent & unsent?

This end of year period can be complex for many reasons. It's the one time you get to sit with your whole year's joys, griefs, mistakes, victories...In this workshop: we will see how through writing, to put down what we've been carrying. Breathe easy.

How beauty isn't about having arrived at a final destination. But this constant state of becoming & butterflying. Join us now.

Don’t just take it from me. Hear what my workshop writers have to say.