What is the thing that is yours?

I cast spells

Mar 12, 2025

I will teach a workshop on “Time Travel” at a writing retreat called Write, in early April, on Orcas Island. The retreat is near a town called Olga, which is tiny and suitably creative. According to San Juan Island Visitors Bureau, Olga boasts one artist co-op gallery, a post office, a beach, and several blue herons. Down the way is Doe Bay Resort. Cell service is intermittent, just like the rain.

A remote writing retreat called Write. Spoken, the name guarantees what’s promised. We write at Write, right? Right. There is also the playfulness of retreat. Retreat (n) is to withdraw from an enemy, from what is difficult, dangerous. Retreat (n) is a place of peace and privacy. Does withdrawing from difficulty bring you to a private place of peace?

At the risk of sounding pithy, it’s a total dream to leave behind my usual responsibilities at home and work, to suspend the reality of myself and join energetic, artist friends for nourishing food (in a perfect moment, one of my dearest friends, Natalia Swan, is the chef at Write) and write in and out of my past lives and guide others to do the same. Slippers only. Paper notebooks for traction.

Is it possible to experience the relief of escape and the pleasures of peace? Retreat. Words are tricky. They make promises. They do tricks. Spells. That’s why knowing words well is spelling—a memorable new age proverb on how to wield power.

I like to know words well. I keep them close. They are not my enemies, even when we resist each other. They are my costumes, my drag, my paint. Especially in this age of large language models with the promise/threat of artificial general intelligence on deck —I believe in what I can do with words.

I said something along these lines the other day, about how human artistic creation is resistance, and it’s needed to nourish our souls, for our spiritual evolution.

This was after a wandering conversation with an academic friend of mine, who is a dear reader of this newsletter.

We’d gasped over the executive orders, the chilling effect, forms of protest, as well as the stifling professional norms of our respective fields. Then she’d asked me how I like creative writing and teaching at Hugo House. I love it, I replied, without hesitation.

I am transported whenever I slip inside the imaginary world of my novel. I love designing craft classes to see where I can cajole people to go. I love stretching my creative impulses and making kin with more artists.

It’s the thing that is yours, she replied, smiling at me.

And she was right. Is right. I write and it’s right. What spells I get to cast! It’s the thing that is mine.

There are a few spots open at Write, this dreamy April retreat toward the embrace of words. Incredible lineup of teaching artists. I’m in awe at my good fortune, to be in such good company.

What’s the thing that is yours?

Do you want to come cast spells with us, too?

Learn more and register https://www.writedoebay.com