Month: March 2016

bloomThis is so cool.  From the article:

In 2003, a building housing the Massachusetts Mental Health Center (MMHC) was slated for demolition to make way for updated facilities. The closure was a time for reflection and remembrance as the MMHC had been in operation for over nine decades and had touched thousands of patients and employees alike, and the pending demolition presented a unique problem. How does one memorialize a building impossibly rich with a history of both hope and sadness, and do it in a way that reflects not only the past but also the future? And could this memorial be open to the public, not as a speech, or series of informational plaques, but as an experience worthy of they building’s unique story?

To answer these questions artist Anna Schuleit was commissioned to do the impossible. After an initial tour of the facility she was struck not with what she saw but with what she didn’t see: the presence of life and color. While historically a place of healing, the drab interior, worn hallways, and dull paint needed a respectful infusion of hope. With a limited budget and only three months of planning, Schuleit and an enormous team of volunteers executed a massive public art installation called Bloom. The concept was simple but absolutely immense in scale. Nearly 28,000 potted flowers would fill almost every square foot of the MMHC including corridors, stairwells, offices, and even a swimming pool, all of it brought to life with a sea of blooms. The public was then invited for a limited 4-day viewing as a time for needed reflection and rebirth.

More photos at the link. 😉

As someone considering an MFA, this article was an interesting read.  In particular, this:

There was a time that I thought books were written by going off alone to a cabin in the woods. I pictured myself at a desk with a view of the Bitterroot valley and some coffee in a jar, and I think, in this fantasy of me the novelist, I was also a man. It took interacting with a ton of other writers to realize one does not learn to do a thing alone in one’s head. Why did I think that I should be able to, without any training or fellowship or mentorship, write fiction? Oh right: self-reliance.

chantwood-magazineI’ve written all kinds of scraps or writing for years. Plays, poems (very bad poems), short stories, unfinished novels. Along the way, I found it difficult to take myself seriously. I still find it difficult. Was I really a writer?

Many would argue that being a writer is a state of mind.  That particular moniker shouldn’t be tied to status, or milestones, or other turning points in the path writers follow.  I’ve heard from many established writers, both famous and less so, who claim that they still wake up some days feeling like an imposter.  I can relate.

Nonetheless, it’s inevitable that we should mark out some occasions of worthy of celebration, of indicators of forward progress.  Getting published is no doubt one of those places to take note.  So, I’m very proud to report that I’ve been published.  Yay! 😀

It’s a little short story I wrote entitled “Our Number Dimished.”  It was included along with a lot of other worthy work in Chantwood Magazine‘s March Issue.  You can check it out HERE.