Welcome to the Ephemera Newsletter, Osiepe! (Luo for “friends”)
A fourth and final expedited shortened issue basking in the poetry of Lauren Fancher, Ephemera’s poet for the month of June! If you haven’t yet, please check out his artist statement and bio on this dedicated post. We thank you for your presence.
On to our standard content matters: Won’t you please check out last week’s issue if you missed it.
In Brief…this week’s features:
Briefly: quick thoughts on visiting DIA Beacon.
Listening to Bob Marley & The Wailers’, “Easy Skanking”
June’s poet, Lauren Fancher and her fourth of four poems, “Agrionia”
Our weekly lists:
3 magazines with open calls
3 awards/prizes
3 recent job listings for editors and writers.
EPHEMERA’S RESIDENCY:
Good Contrivance Farm
We’ve teamed up with Good Contrivance Farm for a 3rd time! We’re sponsoring up to two (2) writers each for a 1-week stay and a travel stipend to the Good Contrivance Farm Residency in Maryland.
1 and up to 2 applicants will be chosen after submissions close
1-week on the farm per person (valued at ~$900)
$200 stipend
Total Value: $1100
$30 application fee (for early applicants before July 31) $40 thereafter
or
More ephemera:
Last Week’s Issue.
Merci. Danke. Kiitos. 고마워 Go-ma-wo. Cảm ơn. Xiè xiè.
Ephemera
Dear Readers,
Quickly! Quickly now. We’re traveling again and are here to offer a briefer letter than the usual this final, albeit late, addition to our June collection. Somewhere along the line it occurred to us—you’ll likely relate on account of lock downs—that we hadn’t gone to our favorite museums, had eschewed creative gatherings for a couple of years. Worse, we’d simply let the imperative of art experience and communication just sort of dissipate. We’d nearly forgotten who we once were along with myriad attendant behaviors and aspirations and ways of manifesting. Yikes! Reading that back, we can see how shutting down the economy can wreck people of all types, particularly those significantly more vulnerable than we psychologically perseverant and self-knowing writing folk. Perhaps we should all take time to reflect on these matters so that we can be sure we haven’t lost what was good, so that we can proactively reorient in the now as well as steel ourselves against reactionary orientation in the future. It’s difficult to know all the ways huge events affect us in the moment and even in the aftermath, even now a few years beyond. As a result—please believe we’re being unintentionally glib—here we are driving to D.C. to visit the art museums and bookstores to reclaim a semblance of our lost patterns of participation (readings at Busboys and Poets) and lost pursuits of intrigue (meanderings around The Hirshhorn, National Gallery of Art, and, our secret favorite, The Phillips Collection).
The rest of July, we fully intend, will be only brief local outings. We’ve chewed on a whole lot this early summer, May and June, without our daily notes, being all but conjoined twins the offspring of a marriage between a wormhole and blur. We kid, oh, lord of time. How could we be anything but grateful for this ort, the once-time repast offered to nothingness by the universe. Keep up with your notes. These governing constants are strict sheriffs if ever there were. Your experiences are important. We must treat ourselves as useful creative beings with an angle or stanza or lens or gripe worth getting down. Keep your notebook with you. Don’t be interrupted. For those moments where you’ve allocated time to the creative endeavors, even while on the road, practice full adherence. The greats did. Our artists friends of the last few issues do. The ember comprised of whatever it is that defines your practice, that little coal bit must be nurtured, the glow hot enough to spark fire when you need. Don’t let it go. Don’t be easily moved off your path. Constancy, and not necessarily rigidity, is our aim. If you’ve been unmoored, if you, like us, let yourself drift on the arbitrary ocean of closures and fiat culture, know that can be corrected. You’ve your notes. you’ve your reading list. You’ve your purposeful plans for dynamic excursions. Those can begin whenever you decide. Soon, we’ll be back at our desk! See you there.
Goyo Erokamano!
(Gratitude)
Poetry by Lauren Fancher
Agrionia Mix pure wine with wine, Catullus, and sing me a party. We’ll go mad and tear things up, limb from limb, and eat you, and beat you with our tossing thyrsi. Did you say “thyrsi?” Our symbols are carved in red and black against Our will. Still, we dance across the vases, goblets high, even when we wish we’d gone home sooner.
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Bookstore: Guides, Gifts & Classics
Please consider supporting our letter and literature by buying books. It helps us and others! Bookstore via Bookshop.
In combination with Ephemera’s sponsored residency at Good Contrivance Farm, we want to highlight our book rec from last issue once more time. For us, it serves as both an interesting study in the methods and ways of other writers and how they managed to create spaces dedicated to their craft as well as a call to action.
Our residency offers time and some funds. Once there, you’ll need to be self directed as it’s very hands off, though also comfortable and encouraging as last year’s selectee, Monique Harris, attests to in the blurb she provided—an account where so very grateful for! Check out Writers’ Retreats: Literary Cabins, Creative Hideaways, and Favorite Writing Spaces of Iconic Authors.
You’ll understand why we also run our other residency, The Write-In: A Creative Staycation. With that program, we aim to encourage folks to make a space that is comfortable and as fully realized as possible. Spaces are everything for writers. The distance from the norm is important. Even if the boundaries are invisible, a section of the room or apartment—though we wish a full-fledged office for everyone!
Writers and their retreats:
Featured Music: Marley & The Wailers
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