Finding the Words: On Writing a Book of Poetry

Some creative projects announce themselves loudly. Others arrive slowly, almost in whispers. This book of poetry has been the latter. The work began not with the intention to publish, but with the simple act of paying attention. Moments, thoughts, sensations, captured without urgency. Over time, those fragments began to gather, forming a rhythm. A voice. A shape that felt like it wanted to become something whole.

Writing poetry is different from other forms of making. It asks for presence rather than precision. It leaves space for uncertainty. Like neuroplasticity, it’s less about control and more about allowing connections to form naturally, letting meaning emerge through repetition, rest, and reflection.

This project has been unfolding alongside the art and jewelry work, influencing it in quiet ways. Language has a texture, much like metal or stone. Words carry weight. They hold memory. The poems have become another way of exploring the same themes that run through all of the work: adaptability, resilience, perception, and the beauty found in becoming.

There’s still shaping to be done. Editing. Listening. Letting the work settle into itself. But the foundation is there, and the intention is clear. This book of poetry will be coming soon. When it’s ready, not rushed, not forced, but fully formed. A companion to the visual work. Another offering rooted in curiosity, care, and the belief that creativity unfolds best when given time. More to come.