Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

A mother’s perspective on the Amy Senser hit-and-run case May 8, 2012

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YOU NEVER FORGET. That day. That defining moment when your world stops and panic sears your soul.

My moment occurred six years ago, the morning my then 12-year-old son was struck by a car while crossing the street to his school bus stop within a block of our Faribault home.

May 12, 2006. The day I became all too familiar with the term “hit-and-run driver.”

At approximately 7:40 a.m. a blue 4-door car, possibly a Chevrolet Cavalier or Corsica, struck my boy whose body slammed into the side and/or front of the vehicle, somersaulted through the air and landed alongside the street.

The driver never stopped. Nor has the driver ever been found.

Fortunately my son suffered only minor injuries, although we do not know what the long-term impact will be on his physical health as he ages.

And what about that driver? Why did he/she fail to stop? It is the question which occasionally still haunts me, which early on angered me. It is the question which led me to ask a local philanthropist and the head of the local bus company to contribute money toward a $1,000 reward (which BTW has expired as has the statue of limitations on the hit-and-run).

Why did the driver of the car fail to stop after hitting my child?

I don’t ask myself that question all that often anymore, except around the anniversary date or when I hear of a hit-and-run. Like the case of Amy Senser, wife of former Minnesota Viking Joe Senser, convicted last week in the August 2011 hit-and-run death of Anousone Phanthavong. She was found guilty of leaving the scene of the accident and failure to promptly report an accident, both felonies, and of misdemeanor careless driving.

Ten days after the accident, Amy Senser finally admitted that she was the driver of the vehicle. Senser maintained during her trial, however, that she thought she hit a construction barrel or a pothole around 11 p.m. on that fateful night. Instead, she struck Phanthavong who had pulled to the side of an interstate exit ramp when his car ran out of gas. He was filling the car’s gas tank when he was hit and killed. By a hit-and-run driver. Amy Senser. Who thought she hit a construction barrel or pothole?

Early on in the investigation into my son’s 2006 hit-and-run, local police investigators maintained that the driver of the car fled because he/she had something to hide: driving drunk, driving without a license, driving without insurance, prior conviction…

Six years ago I couldn’t fathom those as “good enough” reasons to drive away from a child you’d just slammed into with your car. I still can’t justify those excuses. As the years have passed and I’ve heard of more and more hit-and-runs, I’ve come to believe the police theory that the driver in my son’s case had something significant to hide.

Yet, I will never, never understand how anyone, in good conscience, can strike someone with their vehicle and then simply drive away. Drive. Away.

#

SEVERAL YEARS AFTER my son’s hit-and-run, I wrote a poem about the incident and eventually entered it into The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc annual writing competition. “Hit-and-Run” subsequently earned an honorable mention in poetry and published in 2010 in The Talking Stick, Volume 19, Forgotten Roads. That book title seems so appropriate.

My poem focuses on my emotional reaction, making this poem especially powerful.

#

Hit-and-Run

In that moment, I know,
as the rivulets of water course down my body,
as I step from the tub
dripping puddles onto the linoleum,
that the sirens wail
for you,
my boy, my only son.

You, who tossed your backpack
over your bony shoulders,
then hurried
toward the street,
toward the bus stop.

While I showered,
you crossed carelessly,
your fragile body bouncing
off the car
you had not seen,
flailing in a somersault,
landing hard on the pavement.
Sirens scream, and I know.

Panic grips,
holds tight my heart,
my very soul,
as I race from the bathroom,
wrapped in a bath towel,
stand immobile,
watching the pulsating red lights
of the police car
angled on the street,
blocking the path to you.

#

ANYONE WITH INFORMATION on the May 12, 2006, hit-and-run case involving my son should contact the Faribault Police Department or Crime Stoppers of Minnesota at 1-800-222-8477. A local investigator told me a year ago that the case remains open and that police will follow up on any tips and leads.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Unlocking the poetry within an abandoned farmhouse April 30, 2012

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An abandoned farmhouse along Minnesota State Highway 19 east of Vesta on the southwestern Minnesota prairie.

Abandoned Farmhouse

My old bones rattle in the winter wind,
grown weary from years of standing,
bitter cold encompassing my body.

Despair surrounds me
like rot in the weathered heap of the barn,
like rust consuming the junk pile.

Alone, all alone now, abandoned
except for the dying circle of trees
that embrace me, holding me close.

The years have broken my spirit—
too much silence within my walls,
too many tears shed upon my floors.

Left here, without laughter, without hope.
Dreams shattered in my broken windows.
My door closed, locked with a skeleton key.

Abandoned. Desolate. Alone.
Leaning only on the prairie sky,
in a circle of dying trees.

#

IN 2001, THIS POEM published in Poetic Strokes, A Regional Anthology of Poetry from Southeastern Minnesota, Volume 3. To this day, it remains one of my favorite poems among all those I’ve penned.

“Abandoned Farmhouse” retains that status because the poem connects to my past, to rural southwestern Minnesota where I grew up in a cramped 1 1/2-story wood-frame farmhouse. When I was 11 years old, my parents built a rambler with a walk-in basement a stone’s throw across the circular gravel driveway from the old house. They needed the space for their growing family as the sixth, and final, child arrived in August of 1967.

The summer after we moved into the new house, we tore down the old house, board by board. Memories of dismembering that house lath by lath, nail by nail, imprinted upon my memory. Decades later I would recall the bones of the old house, the skeleton key that unlocked the porch door, the grove of trees that sheltered it from the strong winds that swept across the prairie.

I would write this poem, personifying an abandoned farmhouse.

My poetic words reach beyond my childhood home, though, to embrace the many abandoned farmhouses that dot the prairie landscape. I often wonder about the families that lived in these houses and about the stories they would tell.

Returning to an even earlier time period, my poem also reflects a pervasive loneliness that often troubled early pioneer women in a land that could feel desolate, harsh and inhospitable.

This past March, I captured that desolation in an abandoned farmhouse photo (above) taken within five miles of my childhood home. It aptly illustrates my poem.

To this day, I see both beauty, and despair, in abandoned farmhouses.

©  Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Shared with you in celebration of National Poetry Month, which ends today, April 30.


 

Main Street Wabasso, home of the White Rabbit April 25, 2012

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The Roadhouse Bar & Grill is a popular gathering and dining spot in Wabasso. During the summer, old car enthusiasts and motorcyclists gather here for Tuesday evening "Roll-ins" that draw up to 1,000 people. There's plenty of outdoor seating on a sprawling patio where a hamburger bar is set up for the popular event. The Grill also offers an extensive burger and sandwich menu with reasonable prices.

WITH A HALF HOUR wait before we could be seated at the Roadhouse Bar and Grill in Wabasso on a recent Saturday evening, I hit the sidewalk determined to photograph the Main Street of this small southwestern Minnesota town where I attended high school.

This road-side sculpture welcomes travelers to Wabasso, which means white rabbit.

I have, through the decades, discovered minimal familiarity among most Minnesotans with Wabasso, a Redwood County farming community of around 650 that links to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, “The Song of Hiawatha.”

Longfellow writes in his section on the Four Winds:

“Honor be to Mudjekeewis!”
Cried the warriors, cried the old men,
When he came in triumph homeward
With the sacred Belt of Wampum,
From the regions of the North-Wind,
From the kingdom of Wabasso,
From the land of the White Rabbit.

I’ve always been told that Wabasso is an Indian word meaning “white rabbit.” I never learned of the poetic connection until researching on my own; English teachers at Wabasso High never taught this, that I recall. I doubt many of the locals are aware of Longfellow’s reference.

Wabasso is decidedly proud of its white rabbit namesake, though. You’ll find an oversized rabbit statue along State Highway 68 on the south side of town. The public school mascot is, of course, a white rabbit. And, as I found, even local businesses support the Rabbits via storefront signage.

Wabasso’s downtown business district is typical rural Minnesota with a mix of well-kept and deteriorating buildings that border a broad street. Attempts to modernize once stately brick buildings with wood and metal fail and make you wish for a money bag of gold to restore such structures to their original grandeur.

But for now, in this economy, one must choose to appreciate the imperfections of Main Street as adding character to a community like Wabasso, home of the white rabbit.

A broad view of a block along Wabasso's Main Street on a recent Saturday evening.

Wabasso is a strong agricultural-based community. The outgoing Future Farmers of America Minnesota State President Hillary Kletscher (my niece) graduated from Wabasso High School in 2011.

A sign supporting the high school sports team hangs in a salon window.

Wabasso is fortunate enough to still have a grocery store.

Signage in the window of Salfer's Food Center.

My WHS class of 1974 classmate Marcis owns this combination floral shop and hair salon along Main Street. Marcy was also waiting tables at the Roadhouse the Saturday evening I was in town.

Wabasso is fortunate to also still have a post office, unlike more and more rural communities in Minnesota.

THE PHOTOS IN THIS POST are similar in content to those printed in the just-published spring issue of Minnesota Moments magazine. Photographer Ryan Ware of Chaska and I contributed 16 images from 14 small towns to a photo essay titled “Touring Main Street in Small Town, Minnesota.” The essay is only a small sampling of the hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of images we have taken of small towns and rural areas. Both natives of southwestern Minnesota, Ryan and I share a passion for photography that connects us to our rural roots. I would encourage you to check out Ryan’s photos at his Fleeting Farms blog by clicking here.

CLICK HERE to reach the Minnesota Moments website.

CLICK HERE for more information about the Roadhouse Bar & Grill.

CLICK HERE to learn more about Wabasso.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Understanding poetry & connecting it to art in one Minnesota community April 23, 2012

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Viewing art paired with poetry at Poet Artist Collaboration XI at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota.

“POETRY KIND OF SCARES ME….I’m kind of rough around the edges…I don’t always get poetry.”

If anything, I appreciate the honesty of Dale Lewis, a Hastings artist who Saturday evening spoke about the table-size chess board he created in response to 12-year-old Fiona Kiger’s poem, “Chess.”

Dale was among 52 artists and poets participating in Poet Artist Collaboration XI, a poetry-inspired art celebration organized by Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota.

Pieces in the chess set, comprised of wood, marble, granite, stainless steel and glass, created by sculptor Dale Lewis. He titled his art "This is your chess set on poetry" in response to the poetry of Fiona Kiger, a homeschooled student from Rochester who already has completed several chapters in a fantasy book.

Dale Lewis arrived at Crossings at Carnegie with a crocodile sculpture strapped to the top of his car.

The juried competition and Saturday gala reception and poetry reading/art talk drew a broad spectrum of artists and writers and guests that, I’m certain, included more than a few individuals who feel exactly as Dale does, sometimes somewhat intimidated by poetry. Count me, a poet, among them. I don’t always “get” poetry either.

But events such as the Zumbrota collaboration are helpful in understanding writing that can sometimes, perhaps even oftentimes, cause many to bypass poetry books and avoid poetry readings like the plague.

Listen to Dale: “I’m not as afraid of poets as I was a few weeks ago.”

Neither am I.

It did my writer’s persona good to mingle with other poets and with artists Saturday evening, to hear that no matter where we are in the stages of writing or in creating art, we are in this for the love of our respected crafts. That, I sensed, more than anything.

Peter C. Allen reads his poem while Sarah K. Nygaard of Zumbrota, who created the corresponding art, "Long Live the King," looks on. Artwork was projected onto a screen in the reading/ artist talks at the 90-year-old historic State Theatre just down the block from Crossings at Carnegie.

I met poet Peter C. Allen from Kenyon, who lives on a hobby farm and read his “Chicken Crossing,” slinging out a line (which I can’t repeat here) that caused the audience to erupt into raucous laughter.

Pine Island artist Bill Shain's airbrushed composition was inspired by Patrick L. Coleman's poem. Patrick's poem, Bill says, seems like a page out of a romance novel. He went out of his comfort zone, Bill says, to create "Power and Surrender." In his painting the woman has power over the man, her red dress like the cape of a matador and also resembling bowels.

I met Patrick L. Coleman of Minneapolis, who, during his introduction to “Frederica Reminisces” caused me to feel a bit inadequate when he mentioned that his poem initiated as an assignment in a Loft poetry class. But later, when I met Patrick and his wife, Donna, we instantly connected. He’s a retiree who decades ago turned down a journalism scholarship to the University of Minnesota to pursue a career as a bio chemist. Today he is working on a mystery novel and sometimes writing poetry.

Toni Stevens of Rochester painted "A Loving Pear," a watercolor inspired by the poem, "Traveler," by Elise Gregory of Ellsworth, Wisconsin. This is a close-up of that painting.

I listened to Betty J. Benner of Austin spin her story-poem of rhubarb and cucumbers left on her front steps during a reading of “This is just to say.” Betty acknowledged to me earlier that she had deviated from her usual serious poetry to pen a humorous piece. The audience responded with laughter.

Likewise, a St. Louis Park poet drew chuckles when she introduced herself as Sandy Beach followed by “Yes, that’s my real name.”

While many of the poems were infused with humor, several were immersed deep in emotions, reflecting on life and death. Others recalled memories. And others held a strong sense of place.

Janelle Hawkridge of Winnebago and her paired artist, Katherine E. Smither of Rochester, honored women in their collaboration on, the most unlikeliest of subjects, a 70-year-old’s spider/varicose-veined legs. Janelle’s poem, “A Work of Art,” particularly, resonates with me. She views those imperfect, aging legs as history, a life story, a work of art.

The poets read with passion. The artists spoke with passion. They connected. You could hear it in their words, see it in the locking of their eyes, a touch on the shoulder, a nod of the head.

In the end, poet Ronald J. Palmer of Bloomington, who wrote about the stages of life in “The Significance of Traffic Lights,” perhaps best summarizes the feelings of many attending the poetry reading/art talk in Zumbrota: “I think poetry and art should be together more often.”

That recommendation, Ronald, gets a green light from me.

Crossings at Carnegie, a privately-owned art center, is housed in a former Andrew Carnegie library built for $6,500 in 1908 in the Classical Revival style.

CLICK HERE to learn more about Poet Artist Collaboration XI, which closes April 26 at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota.

The poetry reading/artist talks were held in the State Theatre, built in 1921 for $38,000. Up until recently, movies were still shown in the theatre. In December 2011, the Zumbrota Area Arts Council purchased the theatre and is currently raising monies to renovate the building.

CLICK HERE to learn more about the historic State Theatre.

CLICK HERE to read an earlier blog post about my poem, “Her Treasure,” and artist Connie Ludwig who created “Pantry Jewels,” inspired by my writing.

FYI: Close-up photos of the two art pieces were taken with permission of the artists. Permission was not sought to reproduce the copyrighted poetry. Therefore it is not featured here.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating poetry and art in Zumbrota on a Saturday evening April 22, 2012

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Artist Connie Ludwig's "Pantry Jewels," inspired by my poem, "Her Treasure." (Please excuse the glare on the glass; there was no way to avoid it while photographing the painting.)

Her Treasure

In the dark, dank depths of the dirt-floored cellar
she stocks a treasure-trove of jewels
in jars upon slivered planks—
golden corn nuggets,
amber chunks of ample beef,
ruby red tomatoes,
peas like unstrung pearls,
jade shards of dill pickles,
amethyst beets,
clusters of topaz apples
and an abundance of sauerkraut,
diamond of this hard-working German farm wife,
dweller of the Minnesota prairie,
tender of the earth,
keeper of the pantry
and guardian of the garden gems
that will adorn her dinner table
during the long winter months ahead.

#

I MET “MY ARTIST” Saturday evening and saw the art she created, inspired by my poem (above).

And I use those words, “my artist,” because I feel connected to Connie Ludwig of Goodhue. She, like 25 other artists participating in Poet Artist Collaboration XI at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota, took words of poetry and shaped them into art.

“Her Treasure,” under Connie’s paintbrush, became “Pantry Jewels.” The earthy watercolor painting of canned beets, pickles and peaches glows with the perfect balance of light and darkness, with sunlight filtering through glass and glinting off the golden rings that lock in garden goodness.

Connie understands my poem—the memories of my mother canning fruits and vegetables in her southwestern Minnesota farmhouse kitchen. She understands the dark dirt-floored cellar in which these preserves were stored upon rough boards. She understands the importance of honoring the women who honored the land by feeding their families with the fruits of their labors.

In the chapbook published for Crossings’ Poet Artist Collaboration XI, Connie writes:

My mother and aunts loved gardening and canning. They considered those “squirreling skills an essential part of themselves. I have wonderful memories of the ladies showing off, trading and sharing their canned jewels. And, of course, feeding them to us. The models for this painting came from the pantry of my husband’s cousin.

Connie, right, and I pose for a photo after a 90-minute presentation in which 26 poets read their poems and 26 artists talked about how the poems inspired their art. Note Connie's "Pantry Jewels" painting just above my head to the left. If I could buy this $490 watercolor on aqua board, I would in a snap. I love it that much and how it honors my rural roots. But I can't... If you're interested, contact Crossings.

Connie, thank you for transforming my poem into such down-to-earth, beautiful art that touches my soul. Your painting was all I hoped for in this process of poetry inspiring art.

A snippet shot of the crowd at Crossings at Carnegie, including Marie Marvin, center in blue. This place was elbow-to-elbow people during the hour-long gala reception before and after the poetry readings and artist talks held at the next door historic State Theatre. There were 26 poems selected from around 180 submissions for this juried Poet Artist Collaboration, now in its 11th year.

Thank you also to the artists and poets and guests who took the time to thank me for writing “Her Treasure.”

Thank you to my husband, Randy, for always supporting me in my writing.

To Crossings at Carnegie, and specifically Marie Marvin who opened the art center in 2001, thank you for acting as the driving force behind this collaboration. The phenomenal (or as I would say, overwhelming) turn-out is a tribute to the hard work of your team. I’d like to see more events like this through-out Minnesota that pair words and art.

To be one of the 26 poets selected for inclusion truly brought me joy. To mingle with so many poets and artists for an evening inspired and validated for me the importance of the arts in our lives.

Crossings at Carnegie, housed in a former Carnegie library, is a privately-owned cultural, visual and performing arts center in Zumbrota. I love the rural atmosphere with the hardware store and grain elevator just down the street. I need to return to Crossings as I was overwhelmed (crowd-wise and visually) on this busy evening.

I’d encourage you, if you have not seen this exhibit at Crossings, 320 East Avenue, to take it in before the April 26 closing date. Click here for more information.

Also check back here for an additional post from Poet Artist Collaboration XI.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Pairing poetry and art in Zumbrota April 19, 2012

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Lois' jellies and pickled beans photographed in July 2009 at the Faribault Farmers' Market.

In the dark, dank depths of the dirt-floored cellar

she stocks a treasure-trove of jewels

in jars upon slivered planks—

Thus begins my poem, “Her Treasure,” which I will read this Saturday, April 21, at the Poet-Artist Collaboration XI Gala Reception at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota. The reception begins at 6:30 p.m. at Crossings with guests treated to refreshments and to music by pianist Matthew Rivera. The event then moves next door to the State Theatre for poetry readings with on-screen art at 7:30 p.m.

Yes, art. And poetry. Together. One inspired by the other.

I’ll meet “my artist,” Connie Ludwig of Goodhue who created a watercolor, “Pantry Jewels,” inspired by my poem about canned fruits and vegetables stocked in a farmhouse cellar.

The works of 25 other poets and of 25 other artists are also included in this juried exhibit.

Once I learned Connie’s identity, I contacted her, asking her to share some information about herself and about the process of creating her poetry prompted piece. Unlike me, Connie is not a novice at this poet-artist collaboration. This marks her tenth time participating in the Crossings event.

Recently retired from the Zumbrota library, Connie is an established artist who typically works in pastels from her home studio. In the summer she does pastels outdoors and on her front porch.

But this time, for this show, Connie opted to work in watercolor, which, she says, “more often than not has control over me.”

Drawing on childhood memories of the huge garden her family planted every year at their home in St. Croix State Park along the Minnesota-Wisconsin border east of Hinckley, this artist understands the content of my poem.

My aunts and my mother were survivors of the Great Depression and gardens and canning were very, very important to them. So you can probably deduce that your poem about the dark basement, dirt floor and canned jewels reminded me of them.

When I read it (your poem), I could picture the light on the jars when I used to go down and get them. And I knew both the physical resemblance to jewels and the equivalent worth of jewels was how they felt about their canning endeavors. You wrote a poem that reflected an important part of their lives.

Fortunately my husband has cousins that enjoy canning. The models for the three jars that I used to illustrate your poem are Mary’s peaches and Greg’s pickles. I took a picture of them and painted both from that and the actual jars. Jim (my husband) could hardly wait for me to finish so he could “open and eat.”

Well, Connie, I can hardly wait to see your art, “Pantry Jewels,” paired with my poem.

FYI: Click here to read more about Poet-Artist Collaboration XI, including a list of the participating poets and artists. The exhibit will be on display through April 26. Please join Connie and me at the Gala Reception and at the poetry reading.  I’m second on the list to read my poem and Connie to talk about her art. We’d love to meet you.

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Poetic Strokes: Strong regional writing April 12, 2012

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COULD YOU WRITE a poem about bacon?

Julie Hathaway of Rochester did. She penned “Bacon,” one of 30 poems selected for publication in 2012 Poetic Strokes: A Regional Anthology of Poetry from Southeastern Minnesota.

When I saw the poem title, I had my reservations. How could bacon possibly be poetic?

Julie proves that bacon, bacon grease specifically, can certainly be poetic when connected to your past—to fried eggs and fried potatoes and a cast iron skillet—and to your life today. This unlikeliest of topics made for a nostalgic read in a volume that highlights some strong regional writing.

You’ll find poems like “Zumbro River Almanac” by Kevin Strauss of Rochester, where the Zumbro slices through the heart of the city. Other poems in the volume, such as “To the North” by Betty J. Benner of Austin, “Sunrise” by Nicole Borg of Wabasha and “Jacobs Lake” by John Chernega of Winona, also possess a strong sense of place.

And then there are poems like “Scottie’s Apple Pie” by Bev Jackson Cotter of Albert Lea. It’s perhaps the sweetest verse in this volume as Bev writes about the precious memories a mother tucks into her heart after baking a pie from the crab apples her four-year-old picks.

On the opposite end of youth, Peter C. Allen of Kenyon writes about his aged, dying father in a poignant poem.

Then, to lighten the mood, Riki Kölbl Nelson of Northfield compares a first snowfall to rollicking, out-of-control children slitting bed covers and spilling feathers from a sky castle. It is a playful image.

All in all, this sixth edition of Poetic Strokes, a project of Southeastern Libraries Cooperating and financed with Minnesota’s Arts and Cultural Heritage fund monies, is a delight to read. You will find copies of 2012 Poetic Strokes now available for check-out from libraries within the 11-county SELCO system.

FYI: My poem, “Writing Poetry as the Sun Rises,” is published in this 2012 anthology as one of 30 poems selected from 202 submissions.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating the regional poetry of Minnesota March 27, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:41 AM
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THREE APPARENTLY is the lucky number connected with this year’s soon-to-be-released sixth Poetic Strokes anthology published by my regional library system, Southeastern Libraries Cooperating.

At least, on the surface, with 30 poems by 30 poets from 13 communities, all those threes seem to point to that conclusion.

But I don’t bank success on luck—even if my poem of three verses—is among those that published.

Now I’m not privy to the criteria judges used to evaluate the 202 poems submitted by 202 poets from 34 communities within the 11 SELCO counties. But I trust their judgment to select the 30 best works.

Penning a poem worthy of publication takes time, effort and talent. I know. I’ve received my share of dismissals, including last year’s rejection of my three poems submitted to the Poetic Strokes competition. In retrospect, I can see now that those poems needed refining.

While none of us like rejection, it is often the best/only way to show us we can do better. On several occasions I’ve rewritten rejected poems and then had them accepted elsewhere.

I realize, too, that judges’ personal preferences in poetry and the publication itself also factor into acceptance or rejection of a poem. For example, when I’ve submitted to Lake Region Review and The Talking Stick, I’ve considered that these are Minnesota anthologies rooted in the region. I’ve successfully published in both.

Any of you who’ve read my poetry understand that I am a regional writer, with most of my poems connected to the land, specifically my native southwestern Minnesota. I am rooted to the geography of the prairie and to my experiences growing up there. That connection defines my distinct, poetic voice.

Take my poem, “Writing poetry as the sun rises,” just published in Poetic Strokes 2012. At first glance, the title seems to suggest I’ve veered from my voice. Not so. If not for my life-long deep appreciation of prairie sunrises and sunsets (even though I no longer live on the prairie), I may not have looked up from my computer one morning to appreciate the rising sun and then write about it.

Apparently my Minnesota prairie roots voice resonates with judges as I’ve entered numerous competitions and had my poems accepted for publication or display, including in the upcoming Poet-Artist Collaboration XI at Crossings at Carnegie in Zumbrota. Click here to learn more about that gallery show.

Five of my poems have also published in three volumes of Poetic Strokes. Make that six in four volumes. (This year’s competition allowed submission of only one poem.)

Copies of Poetic Strokes 2012 will be available for check-out at all SELCO libraries during the first week of April, National Poetry Month. Because the anthology was funded by the Minnesota’s Arts and Cultural Heritage Fund, the volume will not be sold. Published poets will each receive five complimentary copies.

To read a list of the poets published in this year’s Poetic Strokes—including five from my county of Rice—click here.

As long as we’re talking poetry here, SELCO will launch its Poets at the Library tour with an appearance by Morris-based writer Athena Kildegaard at 7 p.m. Monday, April 2, at the Owatonna Public Library. Kildegaard, a current Minnesota Book Award poetry finalist with Bodies of Light, has also written Rare Momentum. Both were published by the respected Red Dragonfly Press in Red Wing. Kildegaard’s third poetry collection, Cloves & Honey–love poems, has just been released by Nodin Press.

Poets Laura Purdie Salas, Barton Sutter, Su Smallen and Todd Boss—one of my personal favorites—are also part of the SELCO tour. Click here to learn more about Poets at the Library.

Now, I am not so naïve as to believe that all of you like and embrace poetry. But if you haven’t read poetry in awhile, then I’d suggest you try reading it again. Today’s poetry is not the rhyming, elitist poetry of your youth.

I will be the first to tell you, emphatically, that I find some poetry so totally out there that I have no hope of understanding it. That’s OK. Find a poet whose voice resonates with you and then listen and appreciate the words that touch your soul.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Poets & artists collaborate in Zumbrota and I’m in March 13, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 7:52 AM
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I SET A GOAL for 2012 to write more poetry. I’ve posted a contest list on my office desk and filed information in a three-ring binder. But all the best-laid plans and organizing are meaningless unless I follow through with my intentions.

Thus far, I’m doing OK, although not penning poetry probably as frequently as I should be.

Yet, I’ve already seen my initial efforts, including poetry revision, rewarded with the acceptance of a poem into Crossings Poet-Artist Collaboration XI in Zumbrota.

The exhibit, which will be installed on April 2 at Crossings at Carnegie, pairs poetry with art.

Poets were invited to submit up to three poems for consideration. Then four professional writers/poets juried the poetry—this year more than 180 poems—and selected 26 for inclusion.

I’m honored and thrilled to have my writing in this exhibit.

Marie Marvin writes in an e-mail to the selected poets: “It was exciting to receive such a fine outpouring of exceptional work from so many talented poets for this collaboration. Jurists told us they were a pleasure to read, and selecting those to be included was a difficult task.”

Additionally, Laura McDonough of Crossings tells me jurists were given complete license and no specific guidance during the selection process and did not know the identity of the poets.

But, she surmises, “They look for excellence and magic.”

Now artists, who also were juried for the collaboration, are working their magic creating  pieces of art inspired by the poetry.

Paired poets and artists will not know each others’ identities until the show is installed. Nor will the names of participating poets and artists be revealed to the public until April 2. I asked.

I’m not disclosing the content of my poem which I unsuccessfully submitted to previous contests and then reworked for this competition to make it a stronger, better poem. Yes, time allowed me to view my writing with fresh eyes and see areas where I could improve.

Naturally, I’m wondering how “my artist” will interpret my quite visual poem.

I’ll find out on Saturday, April 21, when I attend a reception beginning at 7 p.m. at Crossings at Carnegie, 320 East Avenue, in Zumbrota. Poets and artists will discuss their works. Please join me and the 25 other poets and 26 artists at this celebration during April, National Poetry Month.

FYI: MARIE MARVIN, who opened Crossings in 2001 to create an oasis for artists, writers and musicians, is the driving force behind the Crossings Poet-Artist Collaboration. She discussed her love for “mixing up the arts” with poet Beverly Voldseth and, between the two of them, the first collaboration took shape in April 2002.

The collaboration also includes publication of an exhibit book offered at a nominal cost to participating poets and artists and their families.

Crossings is housed in a former Andrew Carnegie Library built in 1908 in the Classical Revival style. I can’t wait to see the building as I appreciate libraries, history and architecture.

Zumbrota, a community of around 3,000, is located along U.S. Highway 52 about 25 miles north of Rochester.

Click here for more information about the art center.

IF YOU’D LIKE to share information about a similar poet-artist collaboration in Minnesota, please submit a comment with details.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Graphic courtesy of Crossings at Carnegie

 

Behind the scenes at a Minnesota floral shop before Valentine’s Day February 13, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:28 AM
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Waseca Floral designers Tara, left, Carol and Lanae work in the shop Sunday morning.

THE SUNDAY MORNING before Valentine’s Day, and the designers at Waseca Floral work at a quick pace, pulling flowers from buckets, snipping stems, sticking greens into vases, tying ribbons and more in a swirl of creativity.

Spools of ribbon line shelves.

They’ve been at it all weekend and, with two days to go, they have yet to face their busiest day, February 14. Most purchases are last-minute, made on Valentine’s Day, says long-time head floral designer Lanae Feser.

And the most popular flower, as one would expect, are red roses, followed by mixed arrangements of red, pink and white flowers.

Roses pack coolers for Valentine's Day.

Lanae isn’t divulging any numbers in either flower quantities or sales, except to estimate that Valentine’s Day related sales this year will be up 15 percent. Customers are reaching deeper into their wallets and adding on the little extras—like a $5 balloon or a box of candy or a stuffed animal—to their floral purchases.

Extras, like balloons, are more popular this year.

And who spends the most money?

“The younger they are, the more they spend,” Lanae says, speculating along with another designer that younger guys are often trying to impress a girl.

Bright blooms fill coolers.

But peer pressure, or perhaps office pressure, also plays a role in some sales. After deliveries to major businesses in town, the floral shop typically experiences a spike in orders.

“There’s nothing worse than everyone in the office getting flowers and your wife doesn’t,” Lanae laughs.

Customers, before writing a message, sometimes ask: "Nobody else is going to see this, right?"

And the men who order flowers don’t just buy for their sweethearts. They also buy for their mothers and, if they have children, for their kids, too, Lanae says.

Over the years, the shop has had a few unusual requests such as a single rose delivered every hour on Valentine’s Day or a rose a day delivered for the seven days prior and then a dozen roses sent on February 14.

For the most part, though, the prevailing attitude among male customers, according to Lanae, seems to be this: “As long as I get her something, I’m OK.”

Some of the floral options designers created in reusable mugs.

Another option...

The single bust for floral shops, the designers and Waseca Floral owner Rick Morris agree, is a Valentine’s Day that falls on a Sunday. Then guys tend to take their sweethearts out to eat rather than give flowers.

Rick Morris, owner of Waseca Floral for 40 years.

Each year Rick reminds his customers of the day on which Valentine’s Day falls via a rhyming poem that airs on area radio station KRUE 92. That 15 to 20-year tradition (Rick can’t recall precisely how long he’s been penning and reading poems for radio spots) started with these two questions:

Where in tarnation can you buy a carnation?

Would it be crazy to buy a daisy?

You can buy carnations and daisies at Waseca Floral.

His current poem begins with these lines:

Valentine’s Day is Tuesday this year

When you will want to bring her cheer

The poem continues for five more verses.

The message is simple, Rick says. “Buy flowers.”

Coolers filled with flowers await customers.

Waseca Floral is ready to deliver flowers on Valentine's Day.

TO READ ABOUT another Waseca Floral advertising tradition, click here.

DISCLAIMER: Waseca Floral Designer Lanae Feser is my sister. I was not paid to, or asked to, write this post, nor did I receive flowers in exchange for this story. My husband, however, unbeknown to me, purchased flowers for me from Waseca Floral.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling