Documentary by James Cremin
My documentary about the writing class at the City of Hope in Duarte, California based off Julie Davey’s book Writing for Wellness: A Prescription for Healing.
Two simple words — thank you — are often the most difficult to say. Thank you to all of you unheralded angels.
Finding the inspiration to move beyond acceptance and live life as it is meant to be lived.
The past limits your mind to the linear constraints of time. The universe is now. Trust in it. Use your will and recognize opportunity.
Therapeutic writing adds another dimension and perspective to an already established form of healing provided in churches.
Today is Monday, May 27th, our regular meeting day. Since it’s Memorial Day the Library is closed, and we’re meeting at my house. As we sit on the deck alongside our pond, we can see Marion’s flower beds, overflowing with flowers of all types, all colors.
Originally our Writing group was a garden with one kind of flower, all of us affected by the same thing-cancer. Now we have a garden of many varieties, many colors. Consider:
Jane- Blindness is not only [ ... ]
Ten Lessons Learned
By Ann Leisy
The first lesson in life I remember being taught was the Golden Rule. I have always been glad to have this reference as the corner stone of my life.
Also, I learned early in life that if I was to have a healthy old age, I would need to exercise. So I have managed to work various activities into my schedule such as: Skiing, [ ... ]
Famous paintings are wonderful to study and admire. They also have another life- as prompts for WFW classes.
I regularly use a reproduction from a well-known artist. At one meeting it was Edward Hopper’s “Morning Sun”, In Hopper’s painting a woman is sitting on a bed and looking out her window. I asked the group to write about the thoughts going through the woman’s mind.
This poem was one result:
If Only
I look out at a sun filled sky,
A day full of promise.
Can [ ... ]
A Policeman at the Door
1950, New Year’s Day
The doorbell rings, a policeman at the door
Your father is dead
A wife is screaming, crying.
1990, 40 Years later
The doorbell rings, a policeman at the door-
Your son is dead.
A mother is screaming, crying.
If bad things come in threes
There’s another policeman out there,
Somewhere, sometime,
Waiting to ring a doorbell.
This poem was written about seven years ago, a few years after my attending a “Healing Through Poetry” workshop at The Wellness Community in Salisbury, Maryland. At that [ ... ]
A Beautiful Christmas, Decorations Everywhere, Festive Garlands Hanging, Inspiring Joyous Kinder Laughter, Moving Non-believers On-toward Peace, Quieting Restive Souls, Tempering Unrest.
Very Worry-free Xmas,
Your Zitherists
What makes “The Big C- Christmas Spirit”, posted a year ago today, so popular? I can’t figure it out, but I’d love to know:
Is it Irish poet Pat Borat’s clever writing exercise?
Is it our “Christmas Wish” answer to his writing exercise?
Is it the proposed WFW follow-up exercise, finishing the sentence, [ ... ]