(excerpt) “My Girl’s Life in My Pink Room,” by Janet Grace Riehl

(From “Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary”) We’d fixed up the White Cottage really nice. When I came down with the mumps, Daddy stayed home, read to me and put in an indoor bathroom. Our family moved a few paces down to the Big Brown House from the White Cottage when the Great-Aunties died. When we first…

“Art of Critique,” an essay by Janet Grace Riehl, Part II (conclusion)

Critique. I dreaded it. I hated it. I learned from it. And, finally, I was fortunate enough to encounter a teacher, Betsy Davids, who fully understood what critique really meant and what its purpose really was. She saw critique as a form of appreciation, as a time of joining with the piece and giving back…

“The Art of Critique,” an essay by Janet Grace Riehl, Part I

Everything I learned about critique, I learned in art school. My art school used to be called the California College of Arts and Crafts, in Oakland, California (for those of us who studied fine arts) and San Francisco, California (for those who studied design and architecture). Curiously, in recent years, the college opted to drop…

“Bus Run,” a poem by Janet Grace Riehl rushes down time’s hill hoping not to be late

BUS RUN by Janet Grace Riehl (from Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary) My drumbeat feet round the corner of our private road that rushes down towards the river. A bulldozer a decade past shaved off the sharp bend in the road to reduce the odds that downhill cars crashed into uphill cars. We trudged up this…

“Gully,” a poem by Janet Grace Riehl tells of erosion of land, time, and memory

GULLY by Janet Grace Riehl (from Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary) I raise my head from the ground where my eyes were glued to avoid tripping over my feet. A cleft joins the two curves of the hill, a dimple that marks its face like Cary Grant’s. Matted grass cushions my steps pattering over yesterday’s mud….

“Gated Community,” a poem by Janet Grace Riehl tells of a girl coming of age on a hilltop kingdom

Here are some of the early lesssons I learned growing up on the land of Evergreen Heights…about sex, alcohol, and protecting your territory from intruders.–JGR GATED COMMUNITY (from Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary) Three gates protected our hilltop kingdom. One at the bottom, just past the No Trespassing sign. One at the top, just short of…

“NESTING,” a poem of life-long love between my parents Erwin and Ruth Thompson

Following a major stroke in 2001 up until the last few weeks before my mother’s death in 2006, we were able to care for my mother at home. Many families would not have made this choice or had the resources to carry out this choice. My father, supported by a strong family team, was my…

“Up Under the Pine Rows,” a poem from “Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary” on the themes of ecology, memory, place, love and loss

I’ll be going to San Marcos, Texas next week to participate in the LAND FULL OF STORIES conference presented by the STORY CIRCLES network. The theme for the conference is PLACE and that’s what pulled me to respond to a call of papers. I’m honored to be chosen to present a break-out session there. My…

Poetic Keys Open Door Upon Door at the End of Life

My morning breakout session has a long title: “Accessing Transpersonal Dimensions of Healing Through Writing and Poetry.” Whew! I’m out of breath just saying it. It’s short and sweet, only an hour and 15 minutes including questions. What are the doors that poetry can open at the end of life? –dying hospice patients can write…

Riehl to Present Poetry and Grief Workshop for the 5th Annual Integrating Spirit & Caregiving Conference

I’m here in Boulder, Colorado for three days (May 18-20) to present a workshop at the 5th Annual Integrating Spirit & Caregiving Conference with an emphasis on Integral and Transpersonal Approaches to End of Life and Elder Care. The conference is presented by Naropa University Extended Studies and the Center for Contemplative End of Life…