Where the Dust Falls Away
Wednesday night ushered in a gorgeous evening, culminating in a showcase and open mic night for the writers in residence. There were eleven of us, each bringing unique talents and perspectives to the table. Throughout our time together, we tapped into our creative resources, crafting new work and rediscovering the power of storytelling. Among us were novelists, ghostwriters, memoirists, screenwriters, essayists, poets, and storytellers, all working as meaning-makers in the world. Wednesday night offered the perfect opportunity to share glimpses of the work we’d been creating.
During my time at Orquevaux, I arrived with three creative ambitions:
To work on a novel that’s about 75% drafted.
To sort through and expand material for a memoir I’ve been kicking around.
To explore and revise poetry for a collection I’ve long imagined.
I landed on poetry. Over the residency, I wrote a small collection of twelve new poems and revised a handful of older pieces to form a chapbook I’m currently calling Kithship.
Kithship is rooted in the emotional and spiritual bonds we form—with people, places, and the natural world—through connection, care, and shared history. It explores themes of belonging, transformation, and interconnection. These poems weave nature, memory, self-discovery, and intergenerational wisdom into a tender, introspective, and hopeful tapestry. Even when the poems touched on pain or loss, I tried to trust in life’s cycles of decay, growth, and regeneration.
The tone is reflective and evocative, inviting readers to pause, notice beauty in unexpected places, and honor the profound ties that bind us to one another and the world. This collection will be my contribution to the Diderot Collection, a project that made my time at Orquevaux possible through a generous grant.
On Wednesday night, I read three poems from Kithship. For that magical evening, I stood among beautiful creators, sharing work, being vulnerable and brave, and feeling deeply seen and celebrated. It was pure joy. Together, we left our creative fingerprints on this landscape, a legacy that feels tangible and enduring. I’m certain I will return someday.
The Value of Art
On Thursday, the writers and artists devoted the day to sorting, organizing, and preparing to present their work. It was fascinating to exist in a space—both physical and metaphysical—where the intrinsic value of art was so deeply underscored.
In our world, it’s easy to diminish art as valuable only when it’s tied to financial gain. But here, we were reminded that art for art’s sake is reason enough. To create is to express; to express is to offer insight, perspective, and meaning. That is necessary in its own right. Especially now.
As Picasso said, “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” These past two weeks, I’ve lived the truth of that statement. I no longer feel the need to apologize for creating things that don’t fit neatly into the boxes of “useful,” “productive,” or “commercially viable.” Those comparisons have no place in the work of being a creative person.
A Tapestry of Creativity
The visual artists and musicians opened their studios on Thursday for tours. Stepping into their creative spaces, seeing the paintings, collages, photographs, and sculptures they’d brought to life, and hearing the music they’d composed was breathtaking. Each artist poured their whole self into the process, and the results were a gift to witness.
While unforeseen circumstances meant I had to leave Orquevaux a bit early, (I write this now from a train speeding through the French countryside toward Paris), I feel certain that I am where I am meant to be. I’ve had the experience, done the work, and learned exactly what I needed to do, every step of the way.
Lessons to Carry Home
Summarizing my time at Orquevaux feels almost impossible, but here’s where I’ve landed:
Vulnerability is courage. I witnessed it in all of us—through writing prompts, studio visits, shared meals, and evening salon gatherings. We cracked open, and light spilled out.
None of us were here by accident. Despite imposter syndrome, fear, and uncertainty, each of of the artists present were meant to share this moment in time. We were meant to create, learn, and live together.
Art has the power to change the world. On every scale, the work we’ve done, the work I did, is meaningful and necessary.
Gratitude is a creative force. I’m deeply grateful for this time, this experience, and for each of you. Thank you for saving space for me and reminding me that Home exists within ourselves, within one another, and in the landscapes we encounter along the way.
As I prepare to leave this chapter behind, I carry with me a profound sense of clarity: creativity, connection, and courage are among life’s greatest gifts.
To those I leave behind, stay whole and wholehearted.
You are beloved.
—Beth
