LENT | In the little things with Ray McManus
This has been a year of disruptions. When our lives are disrupted, the resulting pain takes our words from us. Language becomes difficult. Reclaiming our words and our stories gives us hope and endurance to continue on.
We'll be writing and finding glory in the ordinary things, the little things, the things we depend on the most. This four part workshop allows twelve participants to get messy with words, turning a phrase and capturing mystery in your own words.
This 4-part workshop will be led by poet Ray McManus. Read more about Ray's story + approach to writing poetry below.
But first, the details.
Sundays: February 28, March 7, March 14, March 21
Time: 1:30 PM - 3:00 PM
Location: In-person at Central Energy (masks required)
Cost: $25
This workshop is limited to 12 participants so Ray can work individually with us as well as a group. Registration is open until it gets full. It's first come, first serve. We will have zoom available if you need to join from home.
More about Ray:
"I fell into writing poetry by accident, by being stupid and lucky. There weren’t many places for a kid like me to be immersed in writing poetry—a kid like any other kid growing up in rural South Carolina in the early 80s. Like any other kid, I wasted my latchkey summer on intermittent spurts of watching television and trying to burn the house down. I didn’t start writing poetry until college, where I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I’d be an engineer or maybe work in forestry or specialize in welding or heating and air. I floundered.
My college adviser, a brilliant English professor to whom I owe my life, suggested I take a poetry writing workshop at USC. She was tough, so there was no argument from me, but I’ll admit I was nervous. Poetry seemed like a mountain I was too intimidated to climb. Like most people, I had the wrong idea about writing poetry. I thought I needed inspiration, which would somehow create the next “Ode on a Grecian Urn” or “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” I thought it meant I had to live in a city loft, cultivate a taste for cheeses, and listen to jazz music.
On the workshop’s first day, the professor came to class with box of crayons and had us pick out a crayon without looking. We were then instructed to write a poem about the color of the crayon, without using the sense of sight—what does red smell like, what does green feel like, what does yellow taste like. Each class, he had new prompts and exercises. We wrote constantly. We shared. We wrote some more. We shared some more. And within a few classes, we were all excited about the next workshop and who would rise to the challenge and slay it." -- https://towncarolina.com/article/power-of-the-pen/
REGISTER BELOW