Abundant Ink

You’re invited to participate…

an experiential experiment in creative fat queer liberation.

What happens when we gather, write, witness, no feedback?

Six Sundays February 13th – March 20th.

10:30 am-noon Pacific Time.

small group, six or fewer people meeting on zoom

rsvp

email me at dingdangdoodle@gmail.com to let me know you want to join the abundant ink writing group. (Please rsvp by Feb 1st if you can.)

what we’ll do:

I’ll read a poem out loud twice. Just sit and listen. Relax into it, let the words wash over you. I’ll offer some jump-off lines and additional short prompts and then you’ll get to hear the poem again, listening for what comes up for you, hearing your first lines hit the page.

Then we’ll write together for ten minutes, keeping our hands moving the entire time, letting go of the idea of getting it right and getting curious about what’s actually here. What’s waiting to be said, discovered, remembered, revealed within us. allowing ourselves to write, as a couple of my teachers say, “the worst shit in the world” to make space for the truth that’s ready to come forward.

After we write we will each read out loud, one by one, listening to each other without commentary or feedback, just presence and witness. We offer gratitude hands or sparkle fingers when each writer is finished reading and we’re off to the next writer. And yes, you can always take a pass reading out loud.

We’ll do three short poetry-prompted write and read alouds over the hour and a half of our time together.

Then we’ll sign off until we reconvene the following week. That’s it. That’s the practice. Wanna see what happens when a bunch of queer fatties get togther and do this? I do.

about this writing practice

​This practice is a great way to “crack open” the writing mind. It’s a way to start to set yourself free from the inner critic; to get to know yourself better as a writer, and as a human being. It feels good — even when it feels kinda bad. ​​When we do this practice in a group, we become a community, a circle, witnesses to each other. This practice helped me reclaim and develop my voice, to remember ​​that I am a writer who writes.

When we do this practice together we agree to witness each others’ stories and processes without feedback while honoring each others’ story, autonomy, and dignity. What’s shared here stays here, what’s learned here leaves here. We agree to take care of ourselves using our self-care practices, support systems, and trusting our inner knowing.

This writing practice comes from a web of lineages of many writers. I’ve been fortunate to do this very practice of poetry prompted writing with Laurie Wagner of 27 Powers for six years. Natalie Goldberg and Julia Cameron are great matriarchs of this type of writing practice. I’ve taken a couple wonderful online workshops from Natalie, and have done versions of both of their writing practices on and off for years. All the writers I’ve written with over the years who told me to keep going, they are my forever teachers too.

a little about me

I’m a superfat, white, nonbinary, neurodivergent, queer, misfit, foofy nanah weirdo. Disabled with tons of economic privilege, married to a super awesome cis man named Marshall who is my best friend, who supports my healing and creativity, who keeps me in house and home while celebrating and encouraging my freedom, and who still plays gin-rummy with me every day even though I usually win. We share our home with two cats; Pickle and Medeina who definitely embody their namesakes. I’m a polyqueer, demisexual, traumababe dharmawitch moving through healing from intergenerational trauma, a lifetime of ensuing shenanigans, and chronic nervous system dysregulation. I love the woods, most shades of purple, time alone in my room, in my garden with my loved ones, and grocery shopping. I used to do a lot of activismy-healing stuff and then I had a nervous breakdown and these days I do a lot of artsy-fartsy-healing stuff.

I’ve been facilitating this type of writing practice off and on since 2020 in a few kinds of settings. With friends and strangers, paid and unpaid. It has been a dream of mine to convene a group of fat queer folks invested in liberatory practices for several years. This is a first experimental step into that deep wish, to see what happens when we get together and write our hearts out onto the page. Any questions or concerns, or just want to chat and check in, let me know.