Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
An original poem crafted with magnetic letters and words and posted on my refrigerator. I purchased the set at an Owatonna thrift store.
Thoughts on listening, understanding & more, plus a poem April 25, 2019
I’LL BE THE FIRST to admit that I am not bold. I am not a risk taker. I dislike change.
But to read this poem I crafted with magnetic word tiles and posted on my fridge, you might think I am a bold risk taker. Not all of us are. Not all of us can be. And that’s alright. We each hold value in who we are. This poem simply expresses my creativity.
I don’t pretend to be someone I am not. Call me authentic. I like that word.
I am not loud, but I will speak up when necessary. Sometimes the quietest voices are louder than the loudest.
I value listening more than talking. Too many people like the sound of their own voices. We should all strive to listen better. It seems a mostly lost art.
When we listen, compassion and understanding happen. When we place ourselves in the shoes of someone struggling with challenges, we begin to understand. Begin to understand how words and actions can hurt. Or heal.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of judging, of thinking we have all the answers, that everything in life is black-and-white. It isn’t.
Life is a mix of colors. Some days vibrant. Other days muddied. But it is a life we are in together. If only we recognize that and try harder to care for one another. With ongoing understanding, love and compassion.
THOUGHTS?
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
How I love this poetry collection April 22, 2019
HOW DO I LOVE THEE? Let me count the ways.
Those introductory words to sonnet number 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning imprinted upon many a heart, mine included. Not that I can recite the poem. But I remember that first love line and the two lines that follow.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My Soul can reach, when feeling out of sight.
Ah, how I appreciate lyrical love poems. Words with depth penned from the soul.
And how I appreciate those who embrace poetry. Like my friend Barb. She recently gifted me with a 1967 Hallmark Editions volume of Sonnets from the Portuguese and Other Treasured Poems of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. It’s a beautiful vintage collection of Browning’s love poems written between 1845-1846 and published in 1850. The British poet wrote the sonnets before her marriage to Robert Browning, a union disapproved of by her father. The couple secretly married in 1846.
I won’t pretend to understand everything Browning writes. If I chose to study her works, I would gain that depth of understanding. But I’m OK with simply reading and interpreting on my own.
My delight in unexpectedly receiving this 52-year-old slim collection reaches beyond words. The book is a work of art with poems printed in Garamond typeface on Hallmark Eggshell Book paper and with several illustrations interspersed therein. The covers, too, are lovely in a muted sage. To hold and page through this book is to hold creativity.
I feel intentionally and richly blessed when friends like Barb understand how I value the literary and visual arts. Barb knew this collection of Browning’s writing would hold meaning for me as a poet, as a creative. Especially during April, National Poetry Month.
TELL ME: Do you have a favorite poet or poem?
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Found poetry April 15, 2019
A POET FRIEND COLLECTS found poetry.
Larry Gavin’s most recent found poem, read recently at a Cannon Valley Poets Poetry Reading at the Paradise Center for the Arts in Faribault, caused the audience to burst into laughter. He read a short “looking for work poem” collected from a public space. The poster sought babysitting jobs, but stated she’d rather pick rock. Alright then. A potential babysitter who prefers rocks to children is unlikely to get hired by any parent.
Like Larry, I find publicly posted messages interesting and often humorous. Unlike Larry, I’d never considered those notes as poetry. But I understand why he views them as such.
Inspired by my poet friend, I’ve upped my public message board reading, something I’ve done only irregularly in the past. I was quickly rewarded with a unique note tacked onto a bulletin board at the Salvation Army Thrift Store in Owatonna.
I snapped a photo with my smartphone and then edited out the phone number.
The note inspired me to write this poem:
Missing
She rocks—the cool blonde
with hair sculpted in a do,
stripe ribboned across locks,
eyes shaded behind sunglasses
like Jackie O.
Call if you see her.
She’s missing.
Last seen at the Salvation Army Thrift Store.
TELL ME: Do you read publicly posted messages like Larry and me? If yes, please share an interesting/humorous/bizarre one you’ve spotted.
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Acoustic gallery at the Paradise tonight March 21, 2019
The marquee on the historic building housing the Paradise Center for the Arts in downtown Faribault promotes upcoming events.
TONIGHT’S THE NIGHT. Not of Rod Stewart—which may have been your thought if you, like me, remember that hit from 1976.
Rather tonight’s the night for the Acoustic Gallery at the Paradise Center for the Arts in historic downtown Faribault.
I blogged about this several days ago so won’t rehash all the details. But, basically, this is a Thursday evening of music, art and poetry by local performing, visual and literary artists. Neymeyer & Co kicks off the event with music from 6 – 7 p.m.
Poetry readings by five Cannon Valley poets follow from 7 – 8 p.m. That includes me.
And guests can, at their leisure, wander the Paradise galleries to explore the artwork of three artists.
The whole Acoustic Gallery concept is new to the Faribault art center. I love the idea of sharing local and regional music and art close-up in the intimate setting of the lobby and galleries. I’m excited to read my poetry in the community I’ve called home for 37 years.
I realize many people, when they hear the word poetry, want to run the other way. But I suggest you rethink preconceived ideas and give this poetry reading a try. Poetry read aloud is a bit like music. Lyrical. Of storytelling. A performance. Only in hearing poetry can you truly grasp its depth. I’ve heard these other poets read. And when they read, the cadence of their voices mesmerizes, draws you into their poems. Beyond written words.
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
From Faribault: Celebrating music, art & poetry at the Paradise March 19, 2019
Promo courtesy of the Paradise Center for the Arts.
WE CREATE BECAUSE WE MUST. With instruments. With words. With brushes and pencils and cameras. With our hands. With our imaginations, our minds, our hearts. Our souls. We are creatives—visual, performing and literary artists who unleash ourselves in artistic ways that connect, communicate, enlighten, inspire and much more.
My poem initially published in In Retrospect, The Talking Stick, Volume 22, an anthology published by The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc based in northern Minnesota.
I am honored to be among creatives featured in the Paradise Center for the Arts Acoustic Gallery during an evening of music, art and poetry on Thursday, March 21, in historic downtown Faribault. I join noted, published Cannon Valley area poets Peter Allen, Larry Gavin, Rob Hardy and John Reinhard for a poetry reading from 7 – 8 p.m.
Jason Neymeyer of Neymeyer & Co. Photo courtesy of Paradise Center for the Arts.
But the event begins an hour earlier with music by Neymeyer & Co. led by Faribault singer and songwriter Jason Neymeyer performing from 6 – 7 p.m. He utilizes pop punk, indie and alternative sensibilities. His original and upbeat music is billed as “intimate storytelling,” a phrase that appeals to the poet in me.
In the intimate setting of the Paradise lobby and galleries, guests can experience art up close. It’s a space that encourages conversation and a connection-to-the-artists appreciation of the arts. There will be free appetizers, treats and a cash bar.
A sampling of art in the Jim Zotalis exhibit in the Carlander Gallery.
The works of visual artists James C. Zotalis (formerly of Faribault, but now of Kasson), Shelley Caldwell of Delevan and Lauren Jacobson of Faribault will be on display in the galleries. Zotalis’ historic building and streetscapes, most in Minnesota, are done in watercolor, pen, ink and pastel. Caldwell’s exhibit focuses her ongoing study of Minnesota’s floral through micro pen with India and acrylic inks. And in the student gallery, high schooler Jacobson showcases her artsy digital photography.
Whatever your artistic bend, please consider joining us in celebrating the arts in Faribault this Thursday evening. Listen, enjoy, appreciate. And introduce yourself to those of us who create. Because we must. For ourselves. And for others.
FYI: The event is billed as free with a suggested donation of $5. The Acoustic Gallery is funded in part with a grant provided by the Minnesota State Arts Board through the voter-approved arts and cultural heritage fund.
CLICK HERE TO LISTEN to PCA Director Kristin Twitchell talk about art center events and activities, including the March 21 Acoustic Gallery (beginning at 4:50 minutes).
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
How a winter drive refocuses thoughts & inspires creativity March 7, 2019
An abandoned building near Nerstrand, Minnesota.
IT IS THE ABSENCE of color. White. Pervasive now in the Minnesota landscape, as one would expect in March.
The whiteness of the southern Minnesota countryside overwhelms vision. Snow layers the land, rooftops, roadways, seemingly every surface. It takes effort to focus on something, anything, beyond the white.
A much-needed Sunday afternoon drive through rural Rice County provided an opportunity to shift my thinking away from this interminable winter of too much brutal cold and too much snow. Yet, my thoughts never really drifted away from winter. How could they when wind swept snow across the roadway, sometimes finger-drifting drifts?
How could my thoughts wander to spring when everywhere I saw winter?
How could I escape winter when I observed ditches filled with snow to road level?
This drive wasn’t accomplishing what I’d hoped—a temporary alleviation of cabin fever. Who was I fooling? Only a vacation to a warmer climate or a weekend get-away to a hotel could deliver that. Neither will happen.
East of Northfield, Minnesota.
Realizing that, I tried harder to embrace the winter scenery. My camera allows me to reshape my thinking, to view the world through a different lens. To see beyond the colorless to the color. A red barn.
A flash of yellow in a road sign.
Blue sky backdrops a farm site near Nerstrand, Minnesota.
A blue sky.
Mailboxes protrude from banked snow in Dundas, Minnesota.
With camera in hand, I began to notice the details—to see art-wrapped mailboxes embedded in a snow bank,
Snowmobiling near Nerstrand.
a snowmobiler powering through winter,
power poles penciling horizontal lines over blank fields.
And when I saw all of that, the poetry of winter overwrote the absence of light, of all that white.
Note: All images have been edited with an artsy editing tool.
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Winter photo poetry February 18, 2019
A WINTER LANDSCAPE IN RURAL Minnesota can, at first glance, seem visually unappealing. White upon white upon white.
But then a moment happens. A curtain opens in the mind to reveal a scene that holds spectacular beauty.
Stubble pokes through snowy fields. A farm site stands isolated, yet strong, in all that winter vastness. And then, a layer of golden light slips between land and clouds.
The light. The textures. The immensity of the scene. All collide before my eyes, to create a winter photo poem. Beautiful in its complexity. Beautiful in its simplicity. Winter.
I photographed this scene along Interstate 35 somewhere north of Faribault around sunset Saturday.
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Eleven magnetic words equal a poem January 24, 2019
SEVERAL MONTHS AGO, I purchased a duo Tootsie Toy magnetic board/chalkboard at an Owatonna thrift shop. I didn’t need it. But I liked the vintage look and the possibilities. Those reasons sufficed to hand over a few bucks.
Along with the board came a bonus baggie of magnetic words. They aren’t original to the board but probably were thrown in because what else do you do with a bunch of donated stray magnetic words?
I finally got around to making poetry with them. Here’s my first poem, which I posted on my refrigerator:
This proved a good challenge—to use the limited words to create poetry. (Pretend a question mark ends the first line.)
As poets understand, poetry requires tight writing. A word must hold value or out it goes. Poetry writing may seem easy to those not engaged in the craft. But it’s not. Penning poems requires focused skill and much practice as one of the most disciplined forms of literary art.
Thoughts?
© 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
An aha moment while reading poetry January 15, 2019
Mira Frank reads the works of published Minnesota poets, here from County Lines during an event at the Treaty Site History Center in St. Peter in August 2016. I also read. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2016.
MANY TIMES I’VE READ my poetry aloud at events. I’m not a fan of public speaking. But it’s getting easier to stand before an audience and share what I’ve written. Practice helps.
When I read six poems at Content Bookstore in Northfield several days ago, I experienced a real connection with the audience. I don’t know if it was the intimate setting in a cozy independent bookstore or the people in attendance or the poems I selected or my frame of mind. Probably all. But something clicked that made me realize my poetry meant something to those hearing it.
Five of my works (poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction) published in Volume 26 of The Talking Stick, Fine Lines.
This proved a profound moment—to recognize that words I crafted into poetry sparked emotional reactions. I had created art. Literary art.
People laughed when I read a poem about my 40th high school class reunion and selecting “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road” as our class song.
TS 19 in which my poem, “Hit-and-Run,” received honorable mention.
But, when I read an especially powerful, personal poem titled “Hit-And-Run,” I observed facial expressions change to deep concern, even fear. I struggled to get through the poem about my son who was struck by a car in 2006. I glanced at his then middle school science teacher sitting in the audience and remembered the support she gave our family. When I finished the final lines of the poem with an angled police car blocking the road to my boy, I sensed a collective sadness. I felt compelled to tell the audience, “He was OK.”
After that, I composed myself to read four additional poems. I read with inflection, with all the emotion a writer feels when writing a poem. I unleashed those feelings into spoken words. Words that, when verbalized, hold power beyond print. Poetry, I understood, is meant to be read aloud to fully appreciate its artistic value.
© Copyright 2019 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
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