Out There, In Here: A Night of Poetry, Spoken Word & Music


Out There, In Here: A Night of Poetry, Spoken Word & Music
October 18, 2019, 6 - 7:30 p.m.

So don’t just look, either:
let your whole self drift like a breath and learn
its way down through the trees. Let that fine
waterfall-smoke filter its gone, magnified presence
all through the forest. Stand here till all that
you were can wander away and come back slowly,
carrying a strange new flavor into your life.
Feel it? That’s what we mean. So don’t just
Read this–rub your thought over it.

Now you can go on.

William Stafford

Admission to this event is $5 for current Wildling Museum Members and $10 for Non-Members.

Join us on Friday, October 18, 2019, 6 - 7:30 p.m. for a special gathering of voices celebrating our vital connection to the natural world– and to one another.

Doyle Hollister is a fourth generation Californian and a marriage and family therapist, whose book, I Only Went Out for A Walk, describes in rich detail his childhood days at the Hollister Ranch, which his great-grandfather acquired in 1868. Reflecting upon the transformative powers of the land and the need for wild places, he warns of the damage to the human spirit caused by the disconnection of contemporary life from the natural world.

Dorothy Gagner Jardin is a local poet, teacher, and artist, whose book of poems, Light’s River, was published in 2010. A student of water, light, and feathers, not to mention dragonflies, pinwheels, and grandchildren, Dorothy muses upon it all with eloquence, insight, and grace.

Cynthia Carbone Ward is a teacher, essayist, creator of The Living Stories Collective, and co-founder of the Gaviota Writers’ Group. Her most recent book, Broken Open, is a suite of pieces written across a range of decades and geography, culminating in her current life on a California cattle ranch. Her stories reflect both change and constancy.

Educator, traveler, and guitarist Jim Brady will offer some music.

Let us pause and be attentive and together in this wondrous and implausible now. The moment may not come again.

Arm in arm,
We walk home,
Laughing loudly
Into the blackness,
the moonless night.
Above us,
A billion winter stars…

Bob Isaacson