A Forgotten Poem Steps Back Into the Light

 In the bad old days, when lupus had me in a stranglehold, I found respite in Women in the Visual and Literary Arts (WiVLA). My career had died, lost to medical disability, and I felt bereft and lost. Would it surprise you to know that I had a great deal of my self-worth invested in my successful telecommunications career? No, I didn’t think so.

 I also carried the weight of the social isolation that illness can cause, so when a friend told me about WiVLA, I saw an opportunity to reverse some of my losses. WiVLA offered stimulation, encouragement, and companionship, all things I had lost and craved again. I wasn’t disappointed.

 Meetings were invigorating and the members were talented and committed artisans in their various pursuits. For over 25 years, I have relished my membership. I’ve even held several board positions: membership chair, treasurer, president. Most of all, WiVLA offered me a place to be heard and acknowledged once again.

 I joined WiVLA as a writer. Writing has always been part of my life. Before our move to Houston from Southern California, I had regularly published in regional magazines and Michael and I had edited Hobie Hotline, Hobie Cat’s (now-defunct) national sailing magazine for a few years.

 I returned to writing as something to fill the hole in my life.

 WiVLA’s signature event is a biennial collaboration show in which artist/writer teams create new work together centered on a theme that WiVLA sets. Over the years, I have partnered for the collaboration many times. Originally, I always took the writing piece; later I began making visual art, primarily art quilts. I never know quite how a collaboration will strike me.

 WiVLA sponsored a collaboration show in 2004 on the theme Twists & Turns. It interested me, but I hadn’t committed—I hadn’t even thought of a collaboration partner— when I happened to go to another organization’s art show. Walking around the show, I was stopped in my tracks by the loveliest painting of dancing goddesses arrayed in elaborately detailed, colorful dresses.

 The precision and meticulous craftsmanship of the work captivated me. The label identified the painter as Kay Kemp, another WiVLA member. I had found my partner; she just didn’t know it yet. In fact, she really didn’t know me except in passing. The next morning I called her up and perhaps startled her by leading with “I saw your painting and I want to be your collaboration partner!”

 We met at her studio and in our conversation discovered that we both had a love for labyrinths. Kay even had a full-sized canvas labyrinth that she unfolded for me on a later visit. We decided that nothing fit Twists & Turns quite as well as a labyrinth. From my chance viewing of Kay’s work at a random art exhibit, a wonderful partnership emerged. Kay painted another exquisite painting and I wrote a meditation for walking a labyrinth, both of them titled Walk with Me.

 Years passed and my creative life continued to evolve. It took a big leap forward last summer when WiVLA sponsored a panel discussion about submitting work to literary journals. One participant, Lorette Luzajic, is the founding editor of The Ekphrastic Review. (Ekphrasis is the technique of using detailed description of an artwork as a literary device to reflect on its meaning.) I’d been working on my memoir so long, I really wanted the positive reinforcement of a literary acknowledgement. I wondered if I could write something they’d publish.

Then it struck me: I already had. Despite the intervening decades, my meditation remained fresh and potent.  

Walk with Me: A Labyrinth Meditation had been published in a WiVLA chapbook years ago, so I verified it was eligible for the journal. Happily, it was, and I submitted the poem, along with a digital image of Kay’s painting last February. In March I learned that it was accepted and would be published in the May 7^th issue.

 I wanted to be seen as an author, not just a writer. Did I ever get my positive acknowledgement!

 When it appeared last Thursday, I felt a little awestruck. I have a fresh, new literary credit in a well-regarded journal. Wow, me! And wow, Kay, too.

 I’m attaching the link so you can read the poem. If you look closely at the painting you will see that the meditation is actually painted onto it. (Tip: it’s easier to read the meditation in printed form!) Kay did all that scribing work in addition to painting the goddess’s dress and the labyrinth itself in delicate, meticulous detail.

 Walk with Me: A Labyrinth Meditation

 Have you had any “wow, me” moments recently? If you need inspiration, perhaps a meditative, engrossing walk in a labyrinth—with my poem in hand—will open you up to new ideas.

Ciao