In the very fine natural history museum at Amherst College there is an extensive and fascinating fossil collection. Among the many are two of my favorites: The first is named The Berlin Specimen, which is an archaeopteryx skeleton of a prehistoric bird. One line of the accompanying note reads: Unlikely that it was a strong flyer. The wing bones are fanned in a picture of flight, its propulsion preserved, even though the bird and all its kind vanished millions of years ago. The second fossil is a seven-foot by five-foot, pockmarked, igneous slab labeled Convergence & Stasis. The stone holds a moment when riverside mud was warm and soft enough to catch the pelting rain as it indents the surface, followed by a drop in temperature that hardened, froze and preserved the pitted spatters. In this fossil we see rain in suspension millions of years after the fact.I regard these two fossils with great fondness and meaning. Perhaps it speaks to me of spontaneity and of creation at its essence: movement, tension, application, resistance, texture and the mystery of expression.
When I find myself wondering why I am writing, whether what I have to say is worth saying, what significance my expressions have, I think of these two fossils. When I wonder if I should be writing about the world at large or what catches my attention during an ordinary day, I see the archaeopteryx and the rain-pitted mud. Even when we doubt that we, as writers are also not ‘strong flyers,’ perhaps our words can converge and find stasis in their own right to exist. These fossils inadvertently impressed themselves on a moment and are now part of our shared memory. They lived a poem and a narrative that carries through time. Our experiences have value; they endure through our poems and stories. Write them because they are important to you. Let the ages discover and honor them.
Upcoming Events
Cabin Fever Workshop! Plan ahead for that moment when winter feels endless and you need an escape. Join me for a two-day, in-person, open-genre, all-out spree of writing what’s bottled up, weighed down, air-deprived and waiting to be released. We will meet in Amherst, Massachusetts on February 20th & 21st and write in response to prompts that allow you to follow your writing. We will use the Amherst Writers & Artists workshop method of trust and respect; writers of all experience levels are welcome; space limited. Cost: $350. Information: maureen@maureenbjones.com
Prompt Photo
