Announcing Lunar Lunacy!
The Creekmason Creative Coven makes its glorious debut! More than a writer's workshop.
The Creekmason Initiates Discord warmly welcomes shameless plugs.
It’s honorable to be a little proud. It’s admirable to assert that you deserve love and attention. We’re out here trying to make shit. Trying to build a chiller spot to hang out.
Ever since I (maybe too-boldly) defined Who We Are, this has been the quasi-official motto of our community:
Lift up anything heavy.
Find a way to make a stranger more comfortable.
Let’s build something better together.
So what sorts of things are we lifting? What are we building together?
Let’s talk Lunar Lunacy!
🪨┃🌜┃lunar-lunacy is sort of like a Creekmasons group art project! It’s meant to be a place where anyone who wants to make art can come up with things together. It’s especially geared toward those aspiring to become Adeptus Makers (Creatives who are published by the Content Collective), but we’d love to see you sign up even if you have no desire to ever have your work shared publicly.
This is a mini-oasis in a cultural wasteland where you can earn rep, share and receive feedback, and build connection.
It’s a place for creating our own art based on prompts selected each New Moon and for holding each other accountable to consistent creativity!
Voting for prompts ends at the First Quarter.
Finished work due each Full Moon.
Feedback appreciated by the Third Quarter!
Feedback is on a scale from 1 ("Praise for the best bits only") to 5 ("hard hitting constructive criticism") with 0 being “don’t perceive me! I don’t want feedback at all.”
Beginning today, we’re going to be sharing some of the work the Creekmasons come up with on each full moon! This will happen in the Lunar Lunacy section of the Creekmason blog.
Some past examples!
Prompt: Radical Rest
Mason: Gabriel Durham - Nintozen
Find more at: Website
For Sparrowhawk
I am honored that my Creekmason friends have chosen to create around my theme of Radical Rest this lunar cycle. I have to offer a chuckle as well; for, this lunar cycle is the same lunar cycle that Buddha gained enlightenment in, so the topic is fantastic in that context. I sit here poised to write in my half journaling, half academic usual style. But I cannot. It feels hollow and pedantic to me now. And what I wish to convey cannot be conveyed that way. So, I turn to poetry. Maybe? At the very least a different style.
In trusting my love, I rest.
In trusting my rest, I grow.
Fear says this is not so.
Then what of sleep? That harbinger of health in the night that lies beyond my Will.
What of trees, that grow rooted still?
Should not I, blessed by sun and rain, grow all the same?
Effortless, bold, and ever rising.
Still there is fear. And it must be followed.
Followed to its roots to find its cause.
Again, even here, stillness is my friend.
For only in stillness can the fear be brought to its end.
In stillness is wholeness. Like an appetite sated.
To quest evermore is to fling a part of one’s soul to the end.
No effort will bring it closer. No snare will let you catch it.
Only rest returns what has been spent. Or sent.
In rest, being returns to wholeness. And fear takes the hand of courage.
I am no longer a project with missing parts, and so,
In trusting my love, I rest.
In trusting my rest, I grow.
Prompt: Match made in Heaven
Mason: Amos J. Hunt
Find more at: Website | Patreon
In Heaven
I tried to see the moon, to hold her eye
in mine. But she does not acknowledge me.
She isn’t even there. What’s in the sky
is just a trope, a maudlin simileat best, repeated like a polished stone,
at worst a cloying, sweet banality.
I’m not here either. Here is just the tone
your voice would take on if you said my name,a far cry from a man of flesh and bone.
In being long gone, we are both the same.
A match made in heaven, the moon and I:
a ghost of light; the memory of a flame.
Prompt: Making the Mundane Spiritual
Mason: Geoff Gallinger
Find more at: Published Writing
A Prescribed Prayer
Can’t my psych meds act the part
of holy sacrament?Why’s a wafer sacred when
it’s simply made by men?What makes a crystal’s vibes superb?
Why spurn the lab-grown chems?Why do witches worship herbs?
They grow, yet we invent?May my medication guide me.
Nature made it, building idly
Using humans, toiling blindly,
Birthing means for balance.Plucking pills from off my altar,
As I drink this glass of water,
Through decline, let me, unbothered,
Calmly find my bliss.
Want your writing featured here? Join the Discord! We’d love to have more Lunar Lunatics!
Prescribed Prayer really hit home. Resented having to be dependent, but meds enabled me to have and enjoy a family.