Build Creative Community
It might help sustain us in the coming years
I’ve been shying away from wishes of “Happy New Year” this year, which began in our home on a somber note, as we were all still reeling from the sudden death of my mother-in-law on Christmas Day. A dear family friend passed away soon after, and now, as the inauguration of a convicted felon and oligarch approaches and images of a burning California flash on our screens, 2025 has taken on an apocalyptic note—climate change, fascism, war, AI. Curry and I recently rewatched the first three Terminator movies, and they feel more like forecasts than entertainment. It’s tempting to turn away from reality, to cower beneath the covers as the bombs fall, but that’s not what the ideals of our democracy were built on, and it’s not what our children need from us. So tomorrow I’ll be attending the People’s March at the Statehouse in Augusta. To voice my dissent. To find solidarity, and hope. If you’re going too, drop me a line; perhaps we can stand together.
INSIDE
In the meantime, I’m thinking of ways to move forward, to not lose heart, as a writer and creator (and, of course, as a human), and one of the things that has kept me going over the years, during just normally discouraging (nonapocalyptic) times, has been being in community with other creative souls.
It took me a long time to realize that creative community was something I craved and needed, having gone from college, where you’re steeped in a stew of people constantly discussing ideas and dreams, to a 9-5 job where everybody is just trying to make it through the day. I imagine lots of people I worked with had creative drives and big dreams, but those aren’t conversations that are fostered or encouraged in a capitalist or bureaucratic system.
After a few years of the quiet desperation of the workaday world, I had my first child and gained a new circle of acquaintances, but again, we didn’t talk about our dreams—we talked about breastfeeding (or not) and sleep training (or not), and we expended all of our creative energy on our efforts to mold our tiny offspring into fully actualized humans (while ignoring our own needs for self-actualization). Two kids later, I was introduced to the world of motherhood-themed zines, and then blogs, and then literary magazines (online and in print), and I found a remote creative community among other mamas who were writing out their frustrations and triumphs, heartbreak and hilarity.
Over the ensuing years, I found—and when I couldn’t find it, I tried to build it—creative community in varying forms and iterations, and these groups have inspired me, helped me work toward my writing goals, and, most of all, fed my soul. Here are some of the types of creative communities I have been involved in. Like I’ve said before, I shy away from giving advice, but if you are in need of soul feeding, you might consider joining or starting a community of creative souls for yourself.
STITCH & BITCH
I don’t currently belong to a crafting group, but I have been part of a few different ones, the best of which was a band of knitters, some of them seriously talented (who could help me out of the hairiest of yarn kerfuffles) who met weekly for a potluck of divine food, engaging conversation, and of course knitting. This was during an era when both work and parenting were at their most stressful, and those ladies kept me in stitches with laughter and nourished with good food and comradeship.
WRITING GROUP
I have been part of many different writing groups over the last 15 or so years, some remote, others in person, some formed from classes I’ve taken or taught, some assembled from writers with similar interests. My current writing group I rounded up in the fall of 2021, after the LONG period of covid-caused creative, isolation. We call ourselves the Maine Writers and Knitters (in a nod to #1 above), because I invited all women of my acquaintance (in some cases all that acquaintance entailed was having heard them on a podcast) who I knew both wrote and knitted. Our writing styles and genres vary widely, but we’ve become a loyal and cohesive group of four. And while we only meet formally about three times a year, we stay in touch remotely and get together in pairs or trios to attend literary events or have lunch or coffee during the in-between-times.
SALON
Four years ago (also during the creative community drought that was the pandemic) a friend of mine (coincidentally, one of those women I met when our first kids were babies, who I’d lost touch with for years but became reacquainted with when those same kids attended high school together) assembled a small group of women in a creative circle, which we’ve come to call a Salon (not the beauty kind, the exchange of ideas kind, which is also beautiful), and ourselves the Salonistas. We meet monthly to share the challenges and achievements in our creative lives and to explore different forms of creative expression. We come from a range of disciplines—visual art, dance, writing, spirituality—and I gain so much from interacting with other modes of creativity. Last week, we came together to make vision boards (for the fourth January in a row) and this year we are following The Artist’s Way as a group.
MUSEUM MAVENS
Just kidding; this group doesn’t have a name. It’s a couple of my friends with whom I visit museums and sculpture parks and gardens, as well as antique stores and boutiques, and, most importantly, cafes and bakeries. As important as creating art is filling the creative well with exposure to the world, and while I do a certain amount of this on my own (and will be doing more over the next year through Artist Dates, as encouraged by The Artist’s Way), I really enjoy finding about new places and visiting old favorites with good friends.
What are some ways you’ve found of building creative community your life?
OUTSIDE
Back in November, I bought myself the early Christmas present of Leaf, Cloud, Crow: A Backyard Journal by Margaret Renkl. It’s a lovely, illustrated little book with quotes from Renkl’s The Comfort of Crows, weekly writing prompts, and space for sketching and note-taking, and for the last three weeks (the first three weeks of winter), I’ve been diligently keeping up with it. I suppose, after thirty years, off and on, of nature journaling, I shouldn’t need guidance, but sometimes it’s nice to just be told what to pay attention to. I like the writing focus of this book (most books on nature journaling and guided journals focus on sketching), and I like that two pages or writing and one of sketching per week feels very doable, even during the most hectic weeks. And, as I seem to need to be reminded of over and over, I find the act of sitting, focusing on the natural world, and writing and drawing, to be incredibly soothing in troubling times.
WRITING NEWS
My essay “Joyful Noise” about the songs of frogs in the Maine spring (which we’ll be hearing before you know it) appeared in Issue 11 of Spelt Magazine.
I co-led a full moon hike earlier this week, and it was so much fun! If you want to be inspired to get outside at night, check out my article about Exploring Maine’s Winter Wilds after Dark at Green & Healthy Maine.
My friend Amanda K. Jaros, author of the forthcoming book In My Boots: A Memoir of Five Million Steps on the Appalachian Trail, wrote a lovely review of Uphill Both Ways over at Mom Egg Review.
Check out my eclectic reading list for December here.
Every year I make an I Did It! list to celebrate my writing (and life) accomplishments over the previous year. See 2024’s list here.
UPCOMING WORKSHOPS
I’ve got several fun nature writing and journaling workshops coming up in the next few months, including:
Writing the Weather, Hidden Valley Nature Center, Jefferson, ME, February 15, 2025
Journaling Backyard Birds, Viles Arboretum, Augusta, ME, April 1, 8, 15, and 22
Poetry is for the Birds, Hidden Valley Nature Center, Jefferson, ME, April 5, 2025
Visit my website here for class descriptions and for future opportunities.
All my best to you, my friends, in this new year. May you find comfort and inspiration in nature and in whatever kinds of community you build around you.