Tag: writing

ahhhh! and arghhh!

From Grief to Growth

During the last pandemic, my Wednesday evenings became a sacred space for about 90 minutes when I talked to my father by phone. From the calm cocoon of our DC condo, I would close the door gently against the pleasing drone of my wife’s Duolingo, and get Dad on the line in Arizona. First updates and the weekly grocery order, then as much time as we could writing down family stories together.

I grew attached to that Wednesday writing ritual, and the refuge of my father’s attention against the difficult circumstances we were all facing in those days. To be of any use at all to him — widowed and socially isolated — kept me afloat from so far away. The separations we all experienced during that time were painful. That weekly phone call was a place to reminisce, laugh a little, practice our writing, and stock up on chocolate pudding for the week ahead.

Later, I moved back to Arizona and became Dad’s primary caregiver. Wednesdays still made sense as our writing days, and his massive postcard collection became endless inspiration. The Posted Past was first invented to keep us fascinated as the days went by. The weekly pace and soft deadline provided helpful discipline. It was a trusted escape for me and mind-jerky for him to chew on at 88, then 89, then 90.

I hosted the first Completing & Creating circle in late 2023. A few of us in a similar online, weekly format: short intervals of focused discussion, followed by quiet parallel play, and a chat back. I’ve attended a number of in-person salons and studio talks over the years. I wanted to create that cozy, connected vibe online.

Fast-forward to tomorrow, my own creative calendar is starting anew. I find myself at interesting intersections of social history and family lore, with a passion for epistolary writing. The year ahead means going down research rabbit holes, getting glassy-eyed looking at old images, and plotting points in storylines from the past. That’s what I’ll be doing with my quiet time in the Wednesday circle, putting my own puzzle pieces together side-by-side with you.

For tomorrow, our prompt is: where are you coming from, and where are you going to? Put this set of questions where they fit for you tomorrow. Coming from lunch and going to your next meeting — I hear that. Maybe this online circle in the middle of the week is enough space for a simple relaxing craft — a nice place between meetings to crochet and chat with others.

The fee is modest and flexible because that’s nice, too. Try month-to-month for $5 or commit to the whole year for $50. I’ll be here weekly. If you love regular creative discipline, great. You can also drop-in anytime. I do not mind!

I will send the meeting link and instructions privately to the circle every week. To join anytime, hit the button below.

Join Anne’s Wednesday Circle

Circle Up



Question 8 on the Creating slide really got me thinking this time.

Q: Who is in your circle, and why?

It’s a practical question for me. My next studio circle (and my own creative practice) starts anew on January 7, and continues every Wednesday afternoon this year.

I’d love for you to join me next week or any Wednesday. My commitment to my creative practice is weekly, and I’m here every week to support yours.

In a quiet moment before the holidays I wrote a long list of everyone I have to thank this past year, plus all the people who left me wiser, and often awestruck.

The task in Question 8 is to acknowledge each person, and seek to know more about how they arrive or appear in my circle. It’s not an inventory, it’s a diagram. Who am I choosing to keep close and who is drifting away? And, what does my circle say about my values and how I communicate.

Caregiving changed my circle. Job transitions change it, always. Loss changes it. Some people move closer, others take off on a distant orbit. Some surprise you when they show up. The circles we create together become life boats when everything else shifts. Leaning forward changes it, too.

What happens on Wednesdays?

We gather on Zoom for 90 minutes. I introduce one or a pair of the questions—sometimes we’re completing the work behind us, sometimes creating the path ahead, sometimes both at once. We explore it together for 30 minutes.

Then you work solo for 30 minutes, mics off. Write, collage, draw, use whatever medium you choose. No need for special supplies or skills. Whatever is at hand—a notebook, some magazines and glue, colored pencils. Not your phone. We love technology, obviously, but tactile is important in this studio.

We reconvene for 30 minutes of reflection. You share only what you want—a sentence, an image, a phrase. No advice-giving, fixing, or solving. The circle makes space for you to listen to your own good sense, work your own puzzle, and most importantly, choose your own metaphor. If you want advice from anyone in the circle, simply ask privately.

How it works

Working through the questions alone has value. Working through them in a studio circle can be transformative. Weekly creative practice builds momentum, provides the pace of trust needed for relationships, and allows insight to unfold. We watch your work evolve together. Eventually, you trust the circle and it is safer to bring what’s difficult, tender, unfinished.

This year, especially, you are welcome. When we are all navigating transitions, tending to loved ones, reinventing our work, renewing our purpose, and searching for meaningful connection. A circle you can count on once a week may be essential. It is for me.

Join me on Wednesdays

We meet every Wednesday from 2:00-3:30 PM Arizona time via Zoom. Join for $5/month or $50/year for unlimited Wednesdays.

Join Anne’s Creative Circle Today

January 7 is special because we start the new cycle together. But every Wednesday works. Pretend we’re neighbors and drop-in. I do not mind.

Who is in my circle?

People who show up consistently. People who witness without judgment. People doing their own creative work and willing to support others in theirs. People who understand that making art—in whatever form—is how we make sense of our lives.

I hope you’ll be one of them, some Wednesday in the year ahead.

The Completing and Creating Cycle is a framework for regular reflection and creative practice. The questions invite looking back and looking forward, with a focus on what needs completing in the current cycle, and what is arising ahead.

Time Traveling

As writers we know the practice takes time. Ten weeks, ten months, ten years. Today happens to be all three for me.

Ten years ago I closed the Washington Writer’s Retreat. After a wonderful five-year run hosting 31 artists, scientists, historians, anthropologists, poets, novelists, and grandmas, the retreat closed in 2014. I traded the marginal magic of the house on Bunker Hill for the rich intimacy of life next to Louise in a quiet condo. I knew my proof of concept would keep, and the need to become my next me was calling.

Ten months ago, we did the Completing and Creating Circle, a pretty great exchange all around. I came away with a drive to go deep into research on a couple of writing projects. Ironically, the time together informed an incubation period that had to be solo, and I committed to a full writing practice. I embody the moniker ‘erstwhile essayist’ here on annelecuyer.com, a space that often functions as R&D for other projects.

Ten weeks ago (or so) I started writing one essay each Wednesday for The Posted Past. This new enterprise draws on Dad’s very old postcard collection. It fills our time together, tipping the mind marbles every day to start a fun game of sorting, selecting, and detecting. Fortunately, artistic practice thrives in these crumpled corners of life. Centenarian postcards make for writing magic.

I see all this as evidence of the ripple effect in my own life, a lovely looping quality that allows for time travel.

Back to WWI and the Golden Age of Postcards, and an extraordinary time of personal engagement town-to-town and around the globe.

Forward to a time when I finish a novel thirty years in the making using AI to crush the blocks I faced in my early writing days. Forthcoming, Night Reading.

Back again through our family history to develop the draft of Crazy Creative, a social memoir on powerful women in the margins. Still so muted at this moment, it only leaks out when I’m not looking.

Slowly, my confidence grows that these efforts are all toward many more comfortable places for humans to love and writers to work. Always, I practice on myself.