Category Archives: Love

Everything in its Right Place

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

Earlier this week I went on a solo, self-directed, three-day writing retreat at a guest cottage, Casita Azul, in Grand Coteau, LA.  I rarely have alone time much less extended alone time and I was ready for intensive solitude.

I married at 20 and went straight from my parent’s home to my own with my husband—with no real attempt at setting up my own pad.  In the 22 years of being married I might have spent a combined three or four weeks apart (over one day) from my husband in all those years—two weeklong trips to NYC, one extended weekend in Austin, and maybe a weekend or two in New Orleans when Miriam was alive.  The longest time I was “on my own” was a six-week university-sponsored group trip to Europe in 1986—25 years ago this summer.  I was 17.

There have been some upheavals in my family and a fair bit of chaos since the beginning of the year—major life changes, illness, flared tempers and tears.  It was time to break the negative cycle, just for a bit.  My family fully supported my going on this retreat.  My mom surprised me the day I left with a check to cover the costs. She was really happy for me to have this opportunity and wanted to ease the burden.

I am having “MULTIPLE EPIPHANIES”

RE:

the writing life/my path
womanhood
selfhood
motherhood
wifehood
LIFE

I am celebrating all. 

I packed supplies for two nights/almost three days (food, music, books, laptop, paper, pen, and camera) and “checked out” from my life obligations. I had one rule. It was cool if I called you (like to say goodnight) or text you once or twice but it was not cool for anyone in my family or close circle of friends (who knew what I was doing) to initiate contact with me unless there was an emergency. A text would be less intrusive than a phone call (or an unexpected visit!) and just about everyone was cool about it. I thought that by letting people know I was going on a retreat that rule needn’t have been posted.

“Retreat” kind of seems self-explanatory.

When I first arrived I was able to transport my stuff in the Casita quickly and the first thing I did was to “move in.”  I was ritualistic about it. I put all of the food in the fridge or neatly on the table. I plugged in the computer (there was Internet available but I did not use it) set up my books, popped a CD in the stereo (so cool—great acoustics in the Casita!) unpacked my clothing.  Then I made a plate of cheese and fruit and sat back to slowly take in the place (which is very cute and comfy—I highly recommend a stay there.)  I “acclimated” to the Casita and let my SELF expand into its space.  I might have had one flashing thought that I would be at a loss with all the alone time I would have, but I intended to “do exactly what I felt like doing” without misgivings. Of course I am safe and not a delinquent so nothing bad was going to happen!  I certainly did not trash the place!!  I did dance, write, sing, sleep, eat, drink and write and sleep some more.

I left the laptop in standby mode, that way anytime I felt like writing I could just sit down and write.  I also kept journals handy and pens. I set a timer for 5-10 minutes for each “sit down session” and over the whole time I was on the retreat I produced 21 different burst of free-writing—which I plan to mine for poetry.  I did not set a strict agenda other than to read, write, and be alone, sleep if I needed to, take a country drive, write with pen on paper, eat well and take over the whole bed.  I stuck to that plan.  I thought I might have a good cry but that didn’t happen so I guess I didn’t need to—but if I had that would have been OK!

I listened to music—Radiohead, PJ Harvey, Alison Krauss and Robert Plant, Kate Bush, Keane, Portishead, Joni Mitchell, some mix CDs that flowed into this groove and the particular playlist was really great for my mood.  I also brought a relaxation CD which is hypnosis/guided meditation.

It rained so much—perfect for my mood. I wanted to be as secluded as possible.  Some people go to tops of mountains to have a peak experience.  I went to Grand Coteau, LA, thirty minutes from my home.   A great time was had celebrating my growth as an artist, new realizations of myself as woman-human at mid-life, the surge of confidence I am experiencing, and the many new relationship connections I’ve made which feel very promising.  I took pleasure in all of these things. Most importantly, I was joyful in the spiritual communion with what is Essential with a capital E through which we can all be replenished.

Year 7 of The Writing Life (and a Rededication)

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

Tomorrow is the 7th anniversary of Adam’s death. 

He was born premature and had health challenges all of his life. It’s a long, long story. I don’t mind talking about it, and I have, but what I want to share is that when he passed I was grief-stricken–but very aware–that I was blessed to have been his mother. 

After Adam died, I turned to writing to assuage my grief. I turned to writing to recover.  Seven years on a dedicated path into the writing life, I can say there are many amazing writing-related happenings happening that would never have happened if not for Adam. Today I feel like I am living up to my promise to Adam, made seven years ago, to honor the gifts I was given and to write in his memory.  

I would like to tell you some of the great news that I am bursting to share.

First I would like to say thank you to Press 53’s publisher, Kevin Morgan Watson, and Press 53’s poetry editor, Tom Lombardo, for selecting my work for inclusion in the 2011 Spotlight Anthology. The 2011 Spotlight anthology will showcase a select group of emerging writers in a print anthology published by Press 53 that will be released June 1, 2011. Ten of my poems will appear with selections from two other poets and five short story writers.  It’s a wonderful thing and I couldn’t be happier.

I have work forthcoming in The Centrifugal Eye. My poem “Note to Self” is selected to appear in the next issue which will be released in April.  

I will be reading with poet/novelist/teacher/funky-hip-mama Lana Wiggins at Casa Azul on April 21st.  Lana will likely read from her novel and I will be reading new poems.  I love having this annual reading to look forward to.  It gets me writing in anticipation so that I can share new work. I thank Patrice Melnick of Festival of Words Cultural Arts Collective, Inc. for allowing us the opportunity again! This will be the third year Lana and I will read together in April—National Poetry Month, at Casa Azul Gifts in Grand Coteau.

I am a participant in a new writing group in Grand Coteau. The group is directed by the very creative and adept writer and entrepreneur Patrice Melnick, and is sponsored by the Festival of Words Cultural Arts Collective, Inc.    ~It feels like home. ~

I am again contributing writing to the Acting Up (in Acadiana) theatre company for a new project called CARAVAN.  I submitted two short, strange bits and may have more in me.  We shall see.  

And last but not least, I have kept this “hush-hush” so as not to jinx anything but I will give you a little peek into my closely held secret—I am expanding my role as a “working poet” into that of a “teaching poet.” There is a wonderful opportunity which may come though for me this fall. I promise I will give you notice when I hear the official word. I am so ready. I am up with energy and full of ideas—so I sure hope I will be allowed to expand my role through this (possible) new opportunity.

I am ebullient. Great energy is arising within and without. The momentum is with me, it seems.  I dedicated my writing life seven years ago to Adam because he gave to me, and I rededicate my efforts in Adam’s memory and to my girl, Madelynne. They will always be miracles in my life.

New Publication

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

My poem “Premature” is up at Literary Mama as part of their “Desiring Motherhood” series.  I am so grateful this poem has a home at Literary Mama. It is an older poem and one that is close to my heart.

Thanks to the editors for selecting my work.

The White Crane

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

My creative non-fiction piece, “The White Crane” has been published today at Referential Magazine. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think.

Thanks to editors Jessie Carty and Eleanor Bryan for selecting my work and sharing their audience with me.

It is never enough, is it?

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

Why do I carry some nebulous shame for things I have or have not done in my life? I wish I could have a ‘no apologies’ attitude and continue brushing off the backhanded compliments or outright snubs. I am glad in who I am and enjoy the life I have created with my family. I am growing as an artist and believe in my work. I am moving forward in the process of discovery that writing offers—that life offers.  But recently something was said to me that made me waver oh so slightly in those beliefs. I am writing this entry to clarify my perspective for myself and to make a statement to those others who judge me.

I am in recovery. I am recovering from abuse, breakdowns and raw grief. I have been open about my history. I have engaged in this recovery with all of my being for the sake of my children and loved ones. I know I am cherished. I cherish myself. I cherish this time I have which almost slipped from me due to illness, misdiagnosis of that illness, and the devastation of self that was the result of both.

I wondered for years about the life I could have lived if I did not have bipolar disease–if I had not fallen apart those so many times.  I do not allow myself to wonder what my life would have been like without Adam. I do remind myself that at the time others were pressuring me to not have a child at such a young age. His life was a grace in mine.  I learned more about love, compassion and humility through Adam’s life than I ever could have if he had not been.

I embrace the life I am living.  I realize I am where I need to be to do what I desire—which is to raise my daughter to the best of my ability, do meaningful work in the world and honor the loving relationships in my life.

Since I have lived in relative stability for several years, I have come to be able to pursue the writing which brings me great joy. I took the first steps on this path in 2004 after Adam died.  In dealing with my grief, writing offered a path out.  Through the writing process, the creative process, I am accessing life and myself in deeper ways. I am looking within and without and creating art through myself. That activity is essential to my recovery and my peace. That I have achieved some success is uplifting beyond words, but I will try:

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

I believed what was believed about me for too long rather than believing myself.  But I won’t hold those negative beliefs any longer, not even a shred. My ambition is true and I am on fire with it. I set myself on the path and I do not allow much to divert me from it—even gross insults and arrogant snubs.

No, I don’t have a chip on my shoulder but I do recognize when I am being belittled and it will not go unanswered.

Six Months In

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

So far in 2010–six months in–I have had nine poems published and three have been accepted and will soon appear in magazines. I am thrilled to bits about this. I was updating my C.V. with the new acceptances and noted that 49 pieces of my creative writing have been (or will be) published. Most of them have been published since 2004. 

In 2004, my son died.

When Adam died, I promised myself that I would live my life as a writer; that I would write purposefully and professionally for the rest of my life, God-willing. I have lived the writing life each day since.  I embrace my role as writer, along with my roles as wife and mother, proudly and with serious intent.  I always start out my “bio” with the phrase:

Clare is a poet/mother/wife…whatever.

I am these things at my very center. I move outwardly from ‘that place’ in my heart—

I can also share that I have bipolar disease. I have struggled for most of my adult life with its symptoms. I have had serious breakdowns and lost so much but I have been very blessed to have a doctor who saved me with careful attention and astute clinical sense which he used in my treatment.

I have been in recovery since 2000.  That means I am moving forward but the disease never leaves.  It is always at my back.  It is deadly–but thankfully I have been able to care for myself and my family somewhat steadily for a long period. I learned the hard way how to sense the oncoming symptoms. I have the strong support of family, friends and a treatment team of doctors.

I am in recovery.

I am recovering.

I am.

If you would like to read the poems that have been published on the Internet so far in 2010 please click the links below.

“White Bull, Black Road” Scythe, Vol. II, 2010

“The Woman You Married” Scythe, Vol. II, 2010

“Little Poem at Pink Moon” Scythe, Vol. II, 2010

“Memento Mori” THE RED ROOM: Writings from Press 1, anthology, 2010

“Mute” Blue Fifth Review, blue collection 1, anthology series, 2010

“Winter Brought Out All the Knives” Melusine, 2.2 Spring/Summer 2010

“Birthing” Avatar Review, Issue 12, Summer 2010

“Make a New Garden” Avatar Review, Issue 12, Summer 2010

“The Never That Was” Avatar Review, Issue 12, Summer 2010

“Father Almost Drowning” Poets & Artists, forthcoming 2010

“Open Me with a Fire of Words” Wild Goose Poetry Review forthcoming 2010

“Premature” Literary Mama, forthcoming  2010

a little bit of festival & facing truth (again)

Posted on by Clare L. Martin

During my brief time at Festival International de Louisiane 2010 I saw in the crowd people who were familiar to me but I could not remember under what circumstances I had encountered them before. Perhaps I dreamed them. It was uncanny. There were at least five who were in very close proximity to me who stood out as people that I should know. And then I saw the orthopedic surgeon who operated on my fractured toes. He was with his family moving away from me further into the sea of people. I wanted to fly over the fast-moving, swinging bodies to reach him to shout: “Thank you for saving my poor mangled foot!” I wanted to catch his gaze and just say “Hello, miracle-worker!” with my eyes.

I sat on the steps of the Federal Courthouse which was very near where the TV5Monde Stage was set up. The two women sitting next to me were wearing matching rings on their left hands.  I also saw two men kiss on the lips. It made me happy to see love in the open. There was something symbolic too I think in that we were surrounded by same-sex couples on the Federal Courthouse steps. I hope that is a good omen for future strides in the movement for equal rights.

The rising moon was three quarters full. The sky was blue glass-bright and cloudless.  Earlier, rain had been predicted. In fact in other southern states there were terrible tornadoes!  The weather couldn’t have been better for Festival—it was not too hot, breezy, and cool in shady spots.

The music sent me deeper into myself.  I tried to connect with my friends through texts but we were scattered about the downtown area at different performance stages.  My fear of crowds abated for a time. No one raged around me. I had my husband with me which always makes me feel secure.

I did not want to leave our spot. I could have sat on the courthouse steps until the music ended and the people streamed back to their ordinary lives beyond this wonderful creative celebration of Francophone and world cultures that are mixed so wonderfully in Louisiana. A world explodes into being in this microcosm made of music, art, food (and drink) film, visual arts, performance arts, spoken word, etc. Such is Festival International de Louisiane. 

Arriving at the festival I was energized but leaving I had to stop walking after short distances to take a break and catch my breath. I am terribly out of shape. My husband noted this when we got home. He said it kindly but it still hurt to hear this truth.  What have I done to myself?  What grief am I holding in my body? Plainly, why do I overeat and live a sedentary life?  I gained a great deal of weight and lost muscle when I broke my foot in January of 2009. And after I was rehabilitated I made several half-starts and full-on attempts at changing my behaviors to lose weight. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure a few months ago and while that is under control I know I am stressing my body— my heart and my knees especially by carrying this excess weight. My family is concerned about me and about their own health  issues. I want all of us to get healthier.

I cannot continue in this unworkable way of life any longer.