BHPC residency begins

Later today, I’ll be travelling to North Adams, Massachusetts to begin the 2024 Boiler House Poets Collective workshop-in-residence at The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts).

It’s been lovely seeing the enthusiasm among my fellow poets as we’ve been doing our final preparations. Unfortunately, due to my current health complications, I’ve mostly been feeling apprehensive.

I’m used to spending long days and evenings during residency writing, editing, visiting the museum, workshopping, and eating/socializing with my poet-friends, but this year I have scaled my plans back significantly in deference to my current struggles with tinnitus, blurred vision, neck pain and stiffness, balance problems, fatigue, and brain fog. I’ve planned to do creative work in the mornings when I’m most likely to have mental clarity, spend most of the afternoon resting, and re-join the group for the evening.

This plan might work – or it might not. I need to be careful to listen to what my body is able to do that day and adjust because, if I push too hard, I risk the next day being a total loss.

I am not putting pressure on myself to generate new work if I don’t have the mojo to do so. There are plenty of poems that I could work on revisions. There’s also a lot of submission work I could do, which isn’t especially creative but does involve careful attention to detail.

It’s not that I haven’t had life complications at past residencies. I’ve done them during the final years of my parents’ lives when I was involved with their care and after their deaths when I was in the early phases of grief.

This situation feels different, though. While my brain was working differently when I was highly stressed or grieving, I still recognized what was happening in my head. The brain fog is more difficult. I need to divert part of my attention to processing what I see and hear and to how I move in order to keep my balance. My thoughts are slowed down and I easily lose my train of thought. I’m accustomed to mulling poems in my head before I sit down to write but it’s rare now that my brain has the power to generate a creative seed and allow it to germinate.

I think part of me is afraid that this state is my “new normal.” Without a diagnosis, treatment is elusive. We are working on that but it’s frustrating that I don’t have my accustomed level of mental acuity to bring to the process.

I’m also sad that I haven’t been able to workshop poems for months here with the Grapevine Poets and that will continue this week with BHPC. I miss seeing others’ work in progress and hearing the discussion about possible revisions. It’s a reciprocal relationship among the poets and very valuable for someone like me who came to poetry later in life without formal training in craft. I miss being able to do it, even though I always feel that I get more than I’m able to give in feedback to others.

As you can see from the graphic on this post, we will be doing a public reading on Wednesday, October 9 at 7 PM at the Bear & Bee Bookshop. I am determined to do that as well as I can. I am reading first when I’m most likely to have the needed energy. I chose poems and wrote out the welcome remarks I need to make so that I don’t babble or forget what I need to say. I haven’t practiced as much as I probably ought to have but will make sure to do at least a couple of run-throughs before Wednesady evening.

You may be asking why on earth I am still trying to do the residency in my compromised state. I am committed to the Boiler House Poets Collective and my current role as liaison to The Studios. Still, I wouldn’t be able to do this were it not for my trust in the BHPC members. Last year, we planned for members to take on different aspects of organizing the residency and everyone has stepped up to do their part and more. I am able to carpool with my local BHPC members so I don’t have to drive. I know that any of them will be willing to give me a hand, perhaps literally if I need it to help with my balance. I absolutely could not do this without their support and I appreciate it.

I’ll try to get some posts in from the residency to let you know how things are going. Prose is generally easier for me to write than poetry so maybe that will work out. Maybe not.

I’ll try to listen to my body.

Wish me luck.

Boiler House Poets Collective at the Bear & Bee!

For North Adams, Massachusetts area folks, the Boiler House Poets Collective invites you to a reading at the Bear & Bee Bookshop, 28 Holden St., North Adams, on Wednesday, October 9, at 7 PM.

This is our only public event during our week as a workshop-in-residence at the Studios at MASS MoCA.

The reading will be a sampler of the work of our ten residents this year, lasting about an hour, followed by Q&A and light refreshments.

Bear & Bee will be selling books by our poets with the authors available to do signings.

Please join us for this free event!

Three Poems in Emulate Magazine!

I’m pleased to share the online version of Emulate Magazine Fall 2023 (Volume 5, Issue 1), which includes three of my MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts) ekphrastic poems. Many thanks to the Emulate Magazine team at Smith College for including my work in this issue! Smith is my alma mater, so being chosen for this publication is particularly close to my heart.

The theme of the issue is “Metamorphosis.” I was excited to discover that the editorial team had chosen my poem, “Time/Rate/Distance,” to open the issue! This poem is based on Richard Nonas’s Cut Back Through (for Bjorn), which is a long-term outdoor installation on the MASS MoCA grounds. It is comprised of three large granite chairs and five footstools. I suppose “Time/Rate/Distance” could be considered an American sonnet, because it has 14 lines, with a turn between lines 8 and 9, like an Italian sonnet. (Just throwing that comment in to address the common criticism that I don’t write enough in received Western forms, like sonnets, villanelles, and sestinas.)

“I Must Speak My Poem” (page 11) is based on Stephen Vitiello’s sound installation All Those Vanished Engines, housed in the Boiler House at MASS MoCA. My beloved Boiler House Poets Collective recorded our first reading there and we always visit when we are back for our reunion residencies. I was disappointed this year that we weren’t able to climb all the way to the rooftop, which offers a spectacular view of North Adams and the surrounding hills.

“Translation” (page 26) is a haiku based on the works of Justin Favela, whose pieces translating landscape paintings by José María Velasco using the paper and glue techniques of piñata art were part of the MASS MoCA Kissing Through a Curtain exhibition (2020-2021). I especially love that this poem appears on the page with a striking photograph by Avery Maltz.

All three of these poems are part of my chapbook manuscript of ekphrastic poems based on current and past exhibitions at MASS MoCA. Two of them are also included in my full-length manuscript centered on the North Adams area. I will, of course, add Emulate Magazine to my list of acknowledgements and my author page, joannecorey.com.

Be sure to check out this issue of Emulate Magazine! It is chock-full of poetry, prose, and images, all centered on metamorphosis and the myriad ways it manifests.

Kelsay authors at MASS MoCA

One of the fun things that happened during the Boiler House Poets Collective (BHPC) annual workshop at The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) this year was the chance for poets Mary Beth Hines, Jessica Dubey, and I to celebrate our books, all published by Kelsay Books.

I’m pleased to share the December post from the Kelsay Books blog that features the three of us on our MASS MoCA adventures. While Jessica and I live near one another and are long-time members of the Grapevine Poets and BHPC, this was our first time meeting Mary Beth. Although Mary Beth, as a Massachusite, was already familiar with MASS MoCA, we were thrilled to welcome her to BHPC and look forward to her return next fall for our 2024 reunion residency.

Mary Beth was the first of us to publish with Kelsay. Her debut collection, Winter at a Summer House, was published in November, 2021. Jessica’s second chapbook, All Those Years Underwater, followed in November, 2022. (Jessica’s first chapbook, For Dear Life, had been published by Finishing Line Press in May, 2022.) My first chapbook, Hearts, appeared in May, 2023.

I love this photo of us taken by fellow BHPC member Wendy Stewart! Wendy managed to catch not only, from left to right, me, Mary Beth, and Jessica, with our books and smiles but also a reflection of part of Natalie Jeremijenko’s Tree Logic, the iconic art installation at the main entrance to MASS MoCA. Commonly referred to as “the upside-down trees,” the maples had graced the courtyard since April 1999, with the trees replaced occasionally so that they could re-orient themselves and spread their roots. The image of the upside-down tree had come to symbolize MASS MoCA and was featured on a number of items in the gift shop.

As I was heading home from our residency, I was shocked to read that Tree Logic was ending its almost 25 years on exhibit in just a few days. The final trees are transplanted on the MASS MoCA campus along the Speedway. I’ll make sure to visit them next October when BHPC is again in residence, or, perhaps, I will make it back to the Museum next May for the 25th anniversary celebration.

I know the trees will be reaching for the light in their new orientation, their roots expanding to anchor them to the site of so much change over the decades. Over time, they will straighten, although they will always bear some remembrance of their time of inversion.

reflections on BHPC residency ’23

Yes, it’s been over a month since I returned home from the Boiler House Poets Collective residency with The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts) in North Adams but I am finally getting around to a wrap-up post. I did post a couple of times during the residency, about Marika Maijala and our reading at the Bear & Bee Bookshop, although that was a far cry from most of our years in residence when I would post daily. Things were very busy, so posting took a back seat and this past month has been loaded with other commitments, such as the launch of the Third Act Upstate New York working group and the first concert of the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton’s 45th anniversary season. I also needed time to reflect on the residency and what it meant for the future of the Boiler House Poets Collective.

Until this year, the Boiler House Poets Collective reunion residencies had always had at least half of the participants being members of the original group that met in 2015 as the first group of poets in residence brought together in a collaboration between Jeffrey Levine of Tupelo Press and The Studios at MASS MoCA. For 2023, the number of participants went from eight to ten, with only myself and Kyle Laws planning to return in 2023. (Sadly, last-minute health complications prevented Kyle from joining us, so I was the lone “original” in 2023. I’m hoping to have this be a one-time occurrence.)

I had inherited the role of liaison with The Studios but also wound up acting as an organizer for this year of transition. I was determined to assemble a full complement of ten and to provide for all the elements that had been part of past residencies, including studio time, museum visits, daily workshopping, a group project, a public reading, and discussion/social time (often accompanied by food and drink). Because, in prior years, we had always had a core of originals, adding in new participants from among our poet-friends as slots became available, we hadn’t felt called to define who we were as a group. I thought, at this juncture, we needed to be more intentional about our identity and our goals. I let people know that we would be having an organizational meeting near the end of the residency to talk about what was important to us and what our plans would be going forward.

I admit that I was really nervous about how things would work out with so many people who had never met each other. For the first time, we had a member who was not herself a poet. In 2022, the BHPC residency overlapped with the residency of Nancy Edelstein, whose work centers around light. With that inspiration, I had designed our group project around the theme of light, inviting each person to contribute work that had to do with light. I had expected a group of poems but the amazing thing was that people began to notice light in new ways. One of our members was inspired to take photographs showcasing light and shadow. We were able to share our light-themed work with each other. It’s not yet clear whether or not we will produce some conglomeration of these that is shareable with the public. If we do, I’ll be sure to share it here.

Another thing that was new for BHPC this year was that we workshopped some pieces that were not poetry, including an essay, scene from a play, and excerpt of a radio play. It was interesting to expand our literary horizons. While we expect to remain grounded in poetry, it’s good to have that flexibility to serve our members’ needs.

I felt that the group had a good vibe from the time of our opening night dinner when we were first together but I was nervous for our organizational meeting when people would be assessing how things had gone and if they wanted to return in 2024. I was thrilled – and a bit teary – when all but one person immediately said they wanted to return next year; the remaining person hopes to but lives across the country, creating a lot more complications than those of us within easy driving distance. People enthusiastically volunteered for organizational roles, including inventing some duties I would never have thought of on my own, so that I will be able to concentrate on just doing the liaison role. I even have a deputy who is shadowing me and can take over if I’m sidelined for any reason. This new constellation has embraced being a collective in a wonderful way and I am immensely grateful.

On a personal level, I appreciated how supportive people were of my work. As regular readers here at Top of JC’s Mind may recall, I grew up in the North Adams area and have two manuscripts, a full-length and a chapbook, that I am submitting to presses and contests. I’m at a crossroads with the full-length collection. I have a contract offer from a hybrid publisher but I’m not sure that is the way I want to go. One day over lunch, people were listening to my concerns and offering suggestions, which were very helpful and have led to my scheduling a manuscript consultation with a professional editor next month. I’m hoping that will help me clarify the path I need to pursue.

I also appreciated that people took my work seriously. One of the poets said that my poems were important in preserving the history of the area. That was so gratifying to me, even though I seldom dare to think in those terms. I do think about those poems as being ones that only I would write, given my perspective as someone who grew up there but that has lived elsewhere most of my adult life. It’s a sort of inside/outside perspective that would be difficult to replicate in quite the same way. I don’t tend to think that my following the dictum to “write what you know” would seem important to someone else, so it was nice to hear. It makes my search for a publisher and my wish to have the book be as strong as possible feel more weighty.

So, I have joyfully marked the dates for the 2024 Boiler House Poets Collective residency on my calendar for next October. I’m looking forward to being among this remarkable group of women again, but I’m also grateful to know that, if something happens that prevents me from being there, the group will go on without me.

My heart will be there, though…

The Boiler House Poets Collective 2023

Marika Maijala at MASS MoCA

I am here at MASS MoCA, in residence with the Boiler House Poets Collective, where there are always new things happening. MASS MoCA has recently opened the Research & Development Store, which yesterday hosted an artist talk by Marika Maijala, a Finnish artist, illustrator, and author that I was fortunate to attend.

Marika was in the United States for the first time to appear at the Brooklyn Book Festival in celebration of the English translation of her book Rosie Runs, her first children’s book for which she also wrote the text. (Translation by Mia Spangenberg) She was very engaging, self-effacing, and friendly in her talk and in answering numerous questions. She very kindly signed books for us with special messages.

Then, we were all privileged to go to the also recently established studio and gallery of Gary Lichtenstein Editions. During the day, Marika and Gary, an artist with over forty-five years of experience in silkscreen printing, had collaborated to design a new print for the occasion and we got to see Gary do some pulls as they collaborated on the final color run. It was amazing to see Gary’s skill with the press and the subtlety of color he was able to achieve!

I was so grateful to see and hear from both Marika Maijala and Gary LIchtenstein. You can find the work of many artists working in collaboration with Gary at the gallery in North Adams or online at the link above. You can find Rosie Runs at an independent bookstore near you or online at Amazon and other sites. It’s been translated into quite a number of languages, so check to see if it is available in the language of the children who are dear to you.

New Poem in Mania Magazine!

Yesterday, the Boiler House Poets Collective began their annual workshop-in-residence with The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art) In North Adams.

Yesterday, my new poem “drinks” appeared in Issue Two of Mania Magazine. Mania Magazine is “a small, independent literary magazine dedicated to your 3AM works!”

It’s ironic that it came out on the opening day of our residency because this poem was written during the 2015 residency with Jeffrey Levine of Tupelo Press at The Studios, only a few weeks after residencies began, that gave birth to the BHPC. (Anyone who is curious can read my blog posts about that experience.) The short version is that I was in waaaaaaaay over my head, and was not sleeping well and overwhelmed most of the time. I did not write this poem at 3 AM but my brain was definitely in that mode, resulting in a somewhat atypical poem for me. I’ve sent it out a few times over the years to journals that had a more expermimental or quirky bent but it has never been picked up until Mania arrived on the scene.

This is only their second issue and I’m so pleased to be included. There’s prose, poetry, art and photography – and you can read and enjoy at any time of the day or night.

Even 3 AM…

Poem on The Purposeful Mayonnaise

My poem “Grandpa’s pipe smoke lingers on the stoop” has just been published in Issue 3.2 of The Purposeful Mayonnaise, a Canadian-based bimonthly literary and art journal-platform. The theme for this issue is “Home.” It’s available for free download at the link above. Make sure to view all the amazing art and writing, including an interview!

My poem is part of my currently unpublished full-length collection that centers around the North Adams area and my family’s experiences there. I wrote it during the 2019 Boiler House Poets Collective residency at The Studios at MASS MoCA.

Its original title was “122 State Street.” For those of you who know North Adams and who would like to be oriented physically, the location is right before heading over Hadley Overpass toward Main Street.

This poem is about my maternal grandparents’ home when I was in the lower grades of primary school, over fifty years ago now. Remember that your comments are always welcome here at Top of JC’s Mind.

One-Liner Wednesday: BHPC Rumpus!

As I wrote in this post yesterday, a new interview with members of the Boiler House Poets Collective by Devon Ellington is available at The Rumpus.

This shameless bit of self-promotion is thanks to Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays. Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/22/one-liner-wednesday-like-one-of-your-french-girls-2/

Boiler House Poets Collective on The Rumpus!

As one of the original members of the Boiler House Poets Collective, I’m thrilled to share an interview that Devon Ellington did with some of our members for The Rumpus. (I realize I threw an inordinate amount of links in that sentence; the “interview” link will open the article in a new tab.)

When Devon contacted us with interview questions, it was a pleasant and energizing surprise. Email messages and reminiscences flew among us. It was fun for those of us who are “originals” to fill in some of the history for people who have joined more recently.

It also highlighted the strength of being a collective in that we can retain our core identity while incorporating new members. At this fall’s residency, for the first time, “originals” will be in the minority. I admit to anticipatory sadness at missing seeing so many of my BHPC poet-friends, but I’m excited to add to our ranks as we continue to grow as artists and as community.

I hope you enjoy the article and want to explore more about BHPC. You can check out our inaugural reading in the Boiler House at MASS MoCA and more under the Collaborative Projects tab.