loose leaf and spiral bound

I can often feel the itch to write, just nagging at the ridiculously hard to reach point between my shoulder blades. The frustrating part of this is when I can't rope one single idea out of the clear blue sky and let my pen run with it. So, that's when I fall back on the talent and creativity of people in my circles and use one of their creations as a writing prompt. David Quinn is a talented award-winning artist based in Co. Mayo Ireland whose piece titled, "Necklace" serves as my most recent creative inspiration. He's ever so graciously permitted me to link to his work here (what a lovely guy!): Necklace, David Quinn, 2007, Mixed media on board, 70cm diameter View this piece (and so many beautiful others) on his website So now that you've had the opportunity to fall in love with this painting like I did, here's the poem I wrote: Lady Like It hurts to remember you Your laughter feels like tiny bursts of flames licking across my skin ...

That's right, my friends. I definitely put my poetry in another art show. This is the third time I have entered my poetry on canvas into the University of Nebraska-Lincoln Staff Art Show. As you might imagine I was once again nervous about doing it, but did it anyway. Once again, I'm glad I did. I kind of like the pressure to perform, knowing that I am working on a deadline with a very public outcome. It certainly freaks me out and gives me more than a little anxiety - but I do kind of like it. This year, the art show is being held in the University library - - Love Library. I mean, what is better than having your art/poetry hung in a library? It's fantastic! Here's my two pieces.  ...and here is what they look like hanging with other pieces.  You may or may not know that my husband is a bow hunter. So, I took one of the deer skulls from his harvest last year and painted the face black and then put some designs in silver on it. Next, I took it outside ...

If you know me at all, you know that I love music. I will shush you in the truck when a good song comes on. I will dance in any Target or grocery store or waiting room if one of my jams comes over the speakers. I have very specific play-lists for happy days, crappy days, melancholy days, etc. Music matters to me in a way that is hard to express. BUT, I have finally found a way to explain it. Sort of. The look on the guy's face at 4:30 in the video below is everything. It's love, it's hope, it's faith, it's happiness...all of it. That's what music does. Whether you are playing music or listening to music, it can be whatever you need it to be. Music never asks you "why" and it doesn't ask for anything in return. (Well, it might ask for $0.99 if you want to download it...) Also, this is what writing does for me. It lets me feel whatever I need to feel. It lets me get out whatever I've been harboring inside. It doesn't ask me why and ...

Yup. I did it again. I put my poetry in the UNL Staff Art Show. AGAIN. I know that last year I was a nervous wreck at the First Friday reception for the university staff art show, and this year wasn't any easier. It was almost worse because I knew what to expect this time. I knew there would be a guest book where strangers could leave notes about the pieces on display and there was no way I could not look at the book. Like a moth to a flame I started flipping through the pages to see if anyone had anything to say about my stuff. Well, they did. AND IT WAS LOVELY!! I was beyond elated. These two folks took the time to jot down their thoughts and it made me feel so good inside. Totally worth the nausea and sweaty palms. There is no need to reiterate to you all that I am by no means an artist by definition. Sure, I like to make things and try new artsy stuff that I see on DIY blogs - - but I am a writer. That's my sweet spot. Sometimes I like to display my writi...

Though it pains me to admit this, there are times that I get insanely jealous of those people who can draw and paint and bring things to life in that way. Instead of letting jealousy eat away at my insides, I do what comes naturally and use my words to tell a story. I give a voice to those people captured in portraits and paintings. And you know what? There is merit in that, too. Take this as an example of "art skills that make Jenn jealous": You can buy this. You should. It's stunning.   http://society6.com/ObedRaimundo/Soft-Skin_Print#1=45 How could I not get lost in her? How could I not think about what she's feeling and what put that look on her face? After I waded through my initial reaction to this piece, I took the next logical step and told my version of her story. The words came pouring out almost faster than I could write. (Thank God for computers, auto-saving, and spell check.) Admittedly, there is a little of my story in there. Maybe a little of my...

I've done it before and I'll do it again. Yes, that's right, I will use the art of others to inspire my own. Creativity begets creativity. Once again Mark Hall , music producer extraordinaire from across the pond, gave me a little writing boost with his track "And the Angels Fell". (You can listen to it here .) So, like the famous song says, "I get by with a little help from my friends". (For what it's worth, I like the Beatles version, but I LOVE the Joe Cocker version.) Something about this particular track of his tugged at me. I was entranced right from the beginning, and then I could feel that slight knife-edge that slides right in. Beautiful disaster. You know the kind that hurts but you can't stop pushing it forward? Something about this track told me the story of a friendship that got twisted along the way. I can't tell if things worked out in the end, but I remain hopeful. Okay, okay, okay. Enough rambling from me. Here's th...

Well, this is awkward. It's been three (...and a half) months since I've written anything. Not just talking about a blog post, I mean I haven't written ANYTHING. Not even so much as a stanza. It's pretty pathetic. Sorry. No excuses here, just apologies. I've been in a rut/slump/funk and am extremely disappointed in myself. Alas. If you've been a frequent-flyer to this blog, you know how much I love to use pictures as writing prompts. This time I asked my friend Thomas Brown to supply the photo. (Seriously, if you're ever in need of a photographer in Arizona...look him up. I very much enjoy his fine art photos.) I tackled this writing exercise a little differently. I gave myself only 15 minutes and decided that I would post to this blog that piece EXACTLY as it was, with NO EDITS. Gotta be honest here and tell you that it is so damned hard to put this up without any tweaks, changes, edits, or rewrites. But, I know how I sometimes wish I could see other poe...

Remember how I told you all about my act of subterfuge ? How I weaseled my poetry into an art show? Well, here's how it went... This is me living out my childhood dream of being a brown haired Vanna White.  So, there was a reception during the April First Friday Artwalk. OF COURSE THERE WAS! That didn't make me anxious at all. (It is one thing to send in poems to journals and writing competitions because those people are faceless and if/when they reject me it doesn't feel personal because I am not staring at their faces making small talk while it happens.) I was absolutely terrified of overhearing someone make fun of my stuff or tear it down to tiny little pieces. I am fairly self-aware and know that I am not a traditional "artist". There were things hanging on those gallery walls that just blew my mind and in no way could I even begin to compare my stuff to theirs. Apples to bowling balls. But guys, nothing horrible happened. In fact, people were so nice ...

Recently, I discovered that Mark Hall is a brilliant music composer and producer. He ever so graciously gave me permission to peruse some of his pieces and use them to jump start my writing flow. Here's the thing - - I love music of every kind. I played the clarinet for 8 years in the school concert band (Yes, I was a band nerd. Hard to believe, right?) and I can associate all of my favorite memories with particular songs. It's just how I'm built. I love listening to movie scores and putting myself in a "mood" and I take my daily play list at work very seriously. With that said, I had never thought to reverse the process and listen to a song first and THEN figure out the story to go with it. But that is exactly what Mark let me do. Thanks for that. (I'm not even being sarcastic. Seriously, thanks.) For reference, track #2 was the inspiration for this poem. I heard the first 30 seconds and knew precisely what was going on in that house. " This hous...

So, the university that employs me holds an annual "Staff Art Show". Now it is quite obvious that I am not an artist in any formal way. I like to draw cartoon-ish doodles and make crafty things, but I would never say that I am anything close to a legitimate artist. I am like an artist's second-cousin-twice-removed-by-marriage. With that said, I definitely entered a piece of work in the show. Let me tell you why I did it and how I found a loophole to make myself feel better (read: less nauseous). Since I am a poet who happens to love photography (even though I am not a great photographer) - - I used a picture that I took last summer, worked some digital manipulation magic, transferred that image to a canvas, painted on it a bit, and then placed a poem of mine as the cherry on top. Here's what that looks like: Copyright Jennifer Klein, 2013. This was the piece I submitted to the University of Nebraska-Lincoln Staff Art Show. It is titled, "The Second Time Aro...

If you'll recall, I told you a while back about how my very dear friend was riding his bicycle from California to New York with the purpose of spreading the word about suicide awareness and prevention and the healing power of art. His non-profit organization, RISE , is amazing. You really should check out their site. He and his friend quit their jobs, put all of their worldly possessions in storage and set out to make a difference. ANYWAY, I decided that I was going to do something pretty rad , and I began writing a piece of poetry as they were riding across the United States. It was hard because I couldn't move forward until they did. This was such an important piece for me to write because of the pride I have in those two and what they accomplished and I really don't have a better way to show them other than writing it down. It is sincerely humbling to have friends like these. So here it is. I call this one, "Rising in Three Parts": 1. An Open Letter to a Frie...

It has recently been pointed out to me that I am that terribly annoying person who is constantly looking for the good in every situation. Gag, right? I know. Alas, this is another one of my "things" that I do. Car broke down? No problem, your new adventure will be riding the bus and making all sorts of fun friends. Washed your wool sweater in hot water and it shrunk? Who cares! Now your doggy has some trendy new apparel. The only time this is not my "thing" is when I am reviewing some of my older or unfinished poems that I have relegated to my "Graveyard" file. I have a very hard time going through those old poems already deemed craptacular and finding a solid nugget to work with. This is unfortunate because I write half started/finished poems down all of the time. I enjoy it. I like getting the brainwaves going and the words rolling off of my tongue and there is never a better feeling than knowing you are just absolutely knocking it out of the park and ...

Do you ever get the feeling that when people talk about creative writing, they are implying air-quotes? Like "Creative Writing" (sigh, eye roll, air quotes)? As if it is something to be mocked? I really don't think they understand that creative writing is much more than sonnets, soliloquies, and iambic pentameter. It is song lyrics, movie scripts, and stand up comedy routines. It is fortune cookie slips, advertising copy, and op-ed pieces. Know what you don't ever hear: "I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly? You're a rocket scientist? How useful is that in everyday life? I can't believe your parents supported that college major!".  Sheesh. To each their own, right? Yes. I am a writer. A creative one at that. A friend of mine found this on the interwebs and sent it to me. Yes, she was also an English major in college. How'd you guess?

I am trying something totally new. You see, I have this very dear friend of mine, Zachary Chipps, who has started a non profit organization called, RISE. He and his friend Thomas Brown are bicycling their way across the United States to raise awareness about suicide, suicide prevention, and the healing power of art. I am not going to go into too much detail about them and their mission, but if you want to know more please visit their website , look 'em up on Facebook, Twitter, and/or YouTube. Seriously, it's pretty impressive what they've done and are continuing to do. Okay, I am digressing. Sorry. As Zak has been riding his way across the country from San Francisco to New York, I've been listening to his story over the phone, on Skype, and by picking up little bits and pieces through the blog, videos, and Facebook posts. I am literally writing as they are riding. Trying to capture the nuances of their ups and downs, successes and let downs as they go. The awesome t...

I don't know if I have ever been more proud of my daughter.  This moment of pride has nothing to do with goals scored in a soccer game or high marks on a report card.  It doesn't even have anything to do with nailing her lines in the all school assembly (which she did and I was thoroughly impressed).  It has everything to do with what she wrote down for her "I'm Thankful" assignment at school... It reads:  Sadie.  I am thank for great teachers and dogs that can play.  Books and white boards, markers.  Thank you for my lovely mom and dad.  I'm thankful for trees and paper that lets us draw, water that I can spill on my paper.  I love my tears I can cry with.  "I love my tears I can cry with" and "thankful for trees and paper that lets us draw, water that I can spill on my paper"  !!!!  Yes!  Amazing!  She's seven, and so comfortable thinking outside the box when it comes to writing.  My only hope is that thi...

I've been stewing on this idea for a while now.  I keep thinking about how cool it would be to take a handful of poetic phrases (from yours truly, of course) and turn them into some sort of awesome typography or collage-like art.  I need to dwell on this a bit longer.  It might be one of those things that if done right, will be wicked awesome.  But if done wrong, well, it could be a big ol' hot mess.  Just think, I could use words AND images.  This might be a really good experimental project for an upcoming weekend.  Or, another really good reason to go to Hobby Lobby at any time.  Either way...makes me happy, and that folks, is what we call a "win-win".