I spent Memorial Day weekend in Gunnison and Crested Butte at the Mountain Words Festival, run by the Crested Butte Center for the Arts. It was my third year attending, and each time I’m stressed out and almost decide not to go as I scramble to get my work done, as I try to clean my house and figure out what to pack, as I prepare for a weekend of going back and forth between Gunnison and Crested Butte because Crested Butte is too expensive.
And each year, I’m so grateful that I went because it is a weekend filled with creativity, with supportive people, with books and coffee, and with at least one visit to Sherpa Cafe for delicious Indian food.
This weekend was no exception.
For three years, I’ve spent the weekend immersed in words, with people who love reading, writing, and who are so generous and kind and supportive of other writers.
It’s the kind of environment I dreamed of when I went to graduate school: people sharing knowledge, helping each other, being nerdy about words and writing together.
It’s the kind of environment I don’t find, often.
I’m lucky to be surrounded by creative people, of all types, and I’m grateful to share creative inspiration with musicians, painters, photographers, gardeners, witches, collage artists, sculptors, chefs… I love knowing so many artists, of all types.
Still, it’s different being with people who are working in the same craft, and spending hours focused on that craft.
Mountain Words is more than that, though. It’s more than just being immersed in our craft and focused on that writing. It’s also how kind and generous everyone is, how encouraging they are.
I’ve gone three times, now, and each time I see people from the previous year. We reconnect, we chat with each other about our books, remind each other of our names.
This year, I spoke with a phenomenal poet I met last year: Rajiv Mohabir. He told me last year that he loved my earrings and my hair. This year, I told him I had read his poetry collection, Whale Aria, and told him how beautiful it is. He thanked me and I saw him again later, with his partner, and gushed about how wonderful the poetry was, told him how important poetry is, how healing and how necessary it is. I was fangirling and I was embarrassing myself. He told me he loved my warmth and kindness.
I connected with people between sessions, chatting about their creative processes, their blocks, their struggles, when it comes to writing and we felt encouraged and supported by each other’s words.
Mountain Words Fest reminds me that I’m a writer, a reader, a teacher. That I am at home with words, and that when I immerse myself in words, I am at my most satisfied, my most content.
I am so grateful for this space, and for the people who organize and attend it.
I am so grateful for the reminder that writing is what I am meant to do, and what I want to do.
And on that note, starting May 30th, I’ll be taking part in Jami Attenberg’s 1000 Words of Summer: 1000 words a day for 14 days. I did it last year, and it was phenomenal. Even though I have an painfully busy first two weeks of June (an art show to co-run, a zine to co-produce, new shelves to install and organize at the bookstore where I work, a lot of events and marketing, and a poetry feature where I am the featured poet), I still want to do this.
Does anyone want to join?
Ink and Vein 