8 years and a lifetime

It is rare to ever feel that you have triumphed in life. That is how I feel—triumphant and profoundly grateful.  I made something real.  It was just a wisp of an idea which came on a wind, a small spark that became a fire in me. The work of 8 years and a lifetime went into Eating the Heart First.

I had a baby when I was 15. He was born premature.   Adam’s life is a long story that I cannot tell here. What I can relate is that after a life lived beyond the doctors’ predictions, a life of joy and pain, Adam passed away in 2004. When Adam died, I made a conscious decision to honor his memory by committing myself to The Writing Life. Because the focus we had given to Adam’s care was suddenly not necessary any more I thought, “Beyond what I need to give to and be for my family what can I do for myself?” I needed to write to feel as though I was not giving up on a long held dream. I also made the promise to my daughter, who needs me to succeed; she needs me to set an example for her so that when she dreams she will believe that she can make her dreams real too.

I choose to live without regret. To live without regret we must follow our better instincts which lead us to the Good. The first task was to read, read, read and write, write, write with the focus that I would get better and better and better. I got out of bed to write. I wrote while driving the car. I wrote my dreams and memories. I wrote what I believed was in the heads of strangers. I sought out other writers to be a part of a community and began submitting my work.

I took on my Writing Life as though it was a business. Being a poet was my job. I had a professional background in public relations, marketing and sales. I decided these skills would be necessary to have any success at writing. 

In the 8 years since Adam’s death, sixty poems of mine have been published.  I have read publicly about twenty times. I am a Teaching Artist with the Acadiana Center for the Arts. I just founded the “Voices” reading series and I have a forthcoming book.

Writing has saved my life many times. Creating this book gave me not only the satisfaction of making something beautiful and lasting but marks a true high point in my way of living.  I will spare you the clinical details, but I have struggled for decades to be well, to recover from bad breakdowns that left years in ruins.

Being able to claw myself back to a real and rewarding life is thankfully possible because I have good caregivers, a strong family and wonderful friends.  I have not beaten the disease but I have beaten it back–

The making of the book (the writing of it) has come to completion and is outside of me now.  So much energy is freed. I will get behind the book when it is published in the fall in every way I can. I am looking forward to the new challenges that selling a book will present.

Eating the Heart First, my debut poetry collection, is slated for a fall 2012 release as a Tom Lombardo Selection from Press 53. You will be hearing much more about it. I must self-promote because I want to move you with my poetry. 

I invite you to read me here. And do keep your eye on this site for news of new adventures in my Writing Life, readings and new publications and such.  Thank you.  

“Come, come, be transformed. “

COMING SOON: My First Book!

I have been BURSTING to tell you this:
 
It’s OFFICIAL!
 
My debut poetry collection, Eating the Heart First, will be published by Press 53 this fall as a Tom Lombardo Poetry Selection.
 
I am profoundly grateful to Kevin Morgan Watson and Tom Lombardo for this incredible opportunity to share my words with the world. I poured myself out for this book–
 
Thank you thank you thank you…♥
 
More soon.
 
Now it is time for DANCING.

Year Eight of The Writing Life Begins

SUN RISES IN A NEW YEAR

March 15th, 2004, our family suffered a loss–the death of my son, Adam.  In my grieving, I reflected on my life and his life and thought: “What can I do with my life to honor him?” I had always believed myself a writer but struggled with discipline, leaving many things unlearned and unwritten. I thought back then: “If I can do “this one thing” to the best of my ability and honor (not neglect) my God-given gifts, then such a choice would be the best way I could honor Adam.” 

Adam’s death, although hard to bear, was the catalyst for choosing to follow this life-path with dedication and passion.  I have grown personally and have had numerous wonderful opportunities via The Writing Life.  Dear Adam gave so much and continues to bless…gone from us almost 8 years. He would be 28 this year. Wow.

And although much of my posting on the Internet is self-promotion, I think it is important to share this story and the bountiful blessings I have had in these remarkable eight years. Self-promotion is necessary because I want you to read my creative works.

I want to move you with my poetry.

I have had many struggles—some from which many people could not recover. I have recounted many here in previous postings, if you want to look back.  Right now I am looking forward which I believe is necessary for true healing.

I am grateful to God-Creator-Universal Force for Good-Power of Love or whatever it is that I do believe in for pulling me through, shoring up my confidence and for putting people in my path who have aided me with loving care, support and friendship.

I am excited about 2012. I am a mother of a 16-year-old who is smart and beautiful. She inspires me everyday.  I am married to a loving, strong and honest man.  I couldn’t ask for more, but for me there will be more in 2012—more writing, more reading, more learning and more teaching.  The momentum is with me as I continue my lifework.

I am on a path and I do not allow much to divert me from it.   

 

Thanks for reading. 

~Clare

A Gift

THE ROAD BEFORE US

Let us travel the road before us

and enter into the mystery of trees.

Let us find the sleeping doe

attentive and aware

of the ever-wolf.  I will go

and find kindling. I will set

the fire that will engage us

and carry our heaviest thoughts

upward.  Clouds dwindle.  

Smoke trails us like a wraith.

I am caught in it. I rise

to the web of bleak branches,

to the very tops of trees.

Tonight leafless trees

are smothered with blackbirds.  

This night-smoke

becomes the blackbird

rising to its highest—

Drifting embers smite the moon.

©2011 Clare L. Martin

A Blessing

A Good Fire

 ”A Good Fire

Blessings for all who are in need, and gratitude for the comforts we have and the life given to us.

~Clare

Coming Soon: News in the New Year

Happy holidays to you, your family and loved ones.  Best wishes for a great new year!

In January, I will have exciting news to share.  I can hardly keep it to myself now but I must. You will cheer with me, I hope, when you hear it.

 

I predict 2012 will be a momentous and thrilling year!  Please stay tuned!

~Clare

 

What has my life taken out of your pocket?

I have made something.

(Although it is small and nearly imperceptible.)

It signifies my existence. It signifies

love I have given and received.

It signifies the things I have accepted

and that which I reject.

This lifework took years

and it has worn me.

I rise from bed dark mornings

because the desire to become

more real hunts me and haunts me—

even in sleep—that dark dance.

The desire to create is the desire

to become more real.  It is the desire

to deepen understanding

of Self and Other.

I am ready again, again, again 

to succumb; to give myself

over to the art engendered

within and without.

30 years from age 13

I was a bit anxious before we set out–I had not been to New Orleans since August 2005–a couple of weeks before The Storm. It was so good to be in the city again and to experience needed psychic healing by seeing a vibrant, energized city. Maybe it was the great weather but the peeps seemed joyful all around.  We didn’t have any negative experiences. Everything was cool.

My first visit to New Orleans was when I was 13 years old. I went with my parents and we stayed on St. Charles. I fell in love with the city–it wasn’t just a teenage crush–I rode the streetcars up and down the line over and over again and longed to live there when I grew up. Something caught my eye in a small NOLA newspaper I picked up on that trip back in 1981. A notice for a poetry reading at The Maple Leaf Bar. Wow. Poetry. Cool! I was just beginning to write pimpled and hormone-soaked lines.  I BEGGED my parents to take me or let me go on my own. I had never ever been to a poetry reading before. I had never ever been to a bar either but that didn’t factor into my comprehension of the potentially incredible, once in a lifetime possibility. A poetry reading sounded chic and exotic compared to my just up from the country-boudin and cracklin upbringing. I was really messed up when my parents wouldn’t let me go and I considered sneaking to Oak St. because I wanted to be there so badly.  (Same thing happened when the Stones played the Superdome in 1981. It killed me that I couldn’t go.)

My old, fuddy-duddy folks were so lame! So I didn’t go and wouldn’t go for another 30 years.

Today was my first time ever at The Maple Leaf. Today I was actually a featured artist there thanks to Jonathan Penton of www.unlikelystories.org   The Everette C. Maddox Memorial Prose & Poetry Reading held every Sunday at 3 PM in the courtyard of the Maple Leaf Bar is the longest running reading series in North America.  It was a great high for me to read there and be a part of the Louisiana tradition.

We arrived during the third quarter of a home Saints game and the bar crowd was wild to put it mildly. The Saints won and the Unlikely Saints did too. Our readings were sublime in my humble opinion. I hated leaving at the start of the open mic but tonight’s a school night and we had a long drive home.

This weekend in New Orleans, among many things, I experienced the Good that poetry is and the Good it can do. There was “good” poetry (and prose) for certain but I think our group the Unlikely Saints (Jonathan Penton, Michael Harold, Frankie Metro, Wendy Taylor Carlisle, and Kristina Marshall) and our audiences experienced the Good Vibrations that can occur in optimum circumstances when lovers and makers of art gather to expeience creative work.  Thanks to everyone who came out to listen, read, laugh with us. Most especially thanks to Jonathan for the invitation and all of his hard work.

Tuesday will be my birthday.  30 years from age 13, I have two completed manuscripts with good prospects, poems published in the double digits, a strong writing practice and lots of love and good energy surrounding me. This weekend was a circle completing and I hope to widen an (unbroken) circle in the future.

And I leave you with these humble words as a gift: 

Bless you, you who create art. Believe in your craft; give to it as much as you can.  Let it awaken you and be the matter of your dreams—

Your voice is both vulnerable and strong. Care for it. Bring the words which fly madly through you into the world through the discipline to which you adhere.  Share it. Give it another life in someone’s mind and heart.

And follow this creed—

“Each success, no matter how small, in the practice of what I love is a lightning strike against the dark.”

Clare

 

 

Quickie before bed, well…

I was asked to participate in the Acadiana Center for the Arts DAF FY2012 AWARDS CELEBRATION for grant recipients held Monday—I was asked to read for this as one part of a showcase of local artists who are in partnership with the AcA.

As part of the entertainment segment of the “Celebration” there was an excerpt performed of an original contemporary dance piece “I’VE STOPPED HAVING THAT DREAM I’VE BEEN HAVING” choreographed by Paige Krause (which will be performed in its entirety November at the AcA.) Rose Hoffman Cormier and Jessica Jouclard, from a locally produced musical, sang a rousing bit about road kill! There were two of us poets—Kelly Clayton and myself.

It was such a thrill to be invited to this celebration. The state grants awarded in this ceremony, the people who implement the arts programs throughout the parishes the AcA serves, cultivate our creativity-rich Louisiana culture, making economic gains for the Acadiana area and beyond, and enhancing value for our state. These arts programs enrich, inspire, educate, and transform people.

It was a joy to hear Kelly read. I love Kelly’s work—it is clear, often tender and truthful, always strong and lyrical—hers is well-imagined art.  She is a passionate woman and writes with that great passion needed to process an experience into art.

The James Devon Moncus Theatre is a great space and this was only the second time I’ve read there. I read recently for the 100,000 Poets for Change event on September 24th and Monday.

On Monday I read three poems: “Remembering,” “Winters at the Lake” and “I Have Learned to Hold My Tongue.”  I was a little nervous but I think my voice was strong, although I was breathy.  I joked a bit with the audience and spoke plainly about my turn to The Writing Life seven years ago after a family member (my son) died, as a way to process grief.

I think I recall too that I said that I embraced my gift and honored it so that I could do what I was born to do—be a poet.  That’s not arrogant. It’s the most humble thing I’ve ever spoken.

The reading felt good.  I wanted to share poems that were specifically Louisiana-themed, although “I Have Learned…” is not. So many people who are arts-connected were there and gave both Kelly and me  heartfelt compliments and comments about the readings.

I was in a swoon and may have said silly things! I am still in a swoon–it’s Thursday and Monday is still on my mind!

A few months ago I bought blank business cards from Office Depot and found a template in Word that helped me make a personalized card for myself. It simply reads: Clare L. Martin POET and has my contact info. I was able to mingle with the recipients and guests after the program, and was asked for contact info so I handed several out.

Seven years ago, when I made my commitment to The Writing Life, I asked myself, “What is the smartest way to become successful at anything?”  I decided to treat it like a job. Give myself respect. Put in long hours. Always push myself to be greater than myself. Don’t compete with others but with myself—I can be better than me!  Learn as much as I can and let experience deepen me–say yes when the Boss asks you to do something.

I have said yes to almost every opportunity that has come my way in these past seven years.  I have accumulated a ton of raw material and finished works that I am actively and successfully marketing. Yes, I made silly “poet” cards to hand out to people I meet. It‘s quirky and I get weird looks sometimes but it is a true fact that I am a poet, and as a professional poet I need to be prepared and ready when opportunities to connect and share arise. 

Congrats to the Acadiana area DAF 2012 grants recipients and thank you for giving so much to the communities you serve through arts programming.

So much more could be said…time for bed.

Hello. My Name is Clare.

Hello. My name is Clare.  Welcome (again) to my website.

I purchased the domain http://clarelmartin.com/ today and will be writing here with more frequency. I hope I can count you as a reader.

I will muse upon the writing life, real-life happenings, sleep revelations, waking prophecies, earth, wind, fire—things I am passionate about and the few things I hate with passion.  

Certainly, I will try to keep it interesting and valuable.

Stay tuned…

Peace.  

Clare