We were arrogant and ambitious, an elite group in a public NYC high school of several thousand. We even met in a tower overlooking the Harlem River. Everyone agreed I was a good essayist and as a short story writer, not bad. Our revered Mr. Pulver, though, said, “You, Miss Brunn, are not a poet.” And didn’t I believe him? For decades, till I fell in love with someone unsuitable, and lines kept pulsing in my head, and I wrote them down. And then I worked on them. You could say I was a poet. Now I have several as yet unpublished chapbooks —on love, death, and daily life. I wrote them because I had to.
Sadly, I’d been a teenager who loved to act, loved everything about The Theatre. I graduated from a vicious theatre school and ran after a career, dreaming, auditioning, bitching, but never writing anything more than letters to Grandma. Decades passed, I taught ESL, and then I fell into teaching college students how to write as thinking and feeling humans. The gig turned into my profession. I grew to love it.
Now here I am, an unpublished poet, playwright, and fiction writer. Every morning, I get up at 5:30 to work on the fifth draft of my novel, Dancers and Lovers. (In my 30’s, I’d become addicted to modern, ballet, and jazz and never forgot that world.) And I’m just about finished adapting a chapter for a short story contest I’d particularly like to win.
My hope? It’s to conquer my distaste for, and fear of, social to meet my ideal readers. As soon as I figure out who they are. A couple of macho guys in my writing group responded warmly to my excerpts, really confusing me!
Thanks, Dan, for giving me this chance to review how I got to where I am.
Your trajectory - or spiral- 🌀 has multipassionate tendrils, like mine - stories, singing, performing. May we both melt the fear of showing up in public spaces with our radiance and Wisdom
Thank you, Dan, for that peek into your past. It’s obvious, by how much you consistently share your life with your readers, that you care about the human connection.
Who am I? A 58 year old whose creativity for 25 years took the form of making homemade costumes for kids, painting the kids’ bedrooms in funky ways, helping with school projects, etc.
making homemade costumes for kids, painting the kids’ bedrooms in funky ways, helping with school projects,---is not a small thing, and definitely equally creative as an author. you must see the finished project in your mind --and often have much less freedom to return to an older version of what you are creating. A vision, some tools and implementing the vision with limited tools. Extremely creative. And what's more you gave someone no-one could give your children--colorful, love-filled memories.
As a child, my creative spark flew wild - making stories, drawing them, singing them, dancing them. My parents taught me to fear my natural soul. She was too much, too loud, drawing attention to herself.
Now I unwind these layers of conditioning. To embody this knowing: what we most love is when we can truly, honestly, share our wacky wise selves. To reach out with a smile and a twinkle, to honor our shared humanity — we are all essentially creative at heart.
That’s what you have always done, Dan, and I’m so lucky to have joined your merry band of writers years ago 🙏🏽that’s why I’m here on Substack. Thank you for being you.
What a lovely reflection, Dan! You have inspired me to venture down a similar path.
And this part:
"The shadows that prove we were here are not just in the dust on the floor, or even the creative work we leave behind. We remain in the stories and ideas we share, and how we connect on a human level with those we meet."
So well put, and such a poignant reminder. Thank you!
Seeing the photos of you when you were young were special. By the way, you weren't being "silly" at all; you were having a joyful youth with the freedom to explore ALL the things. It warms my heart to see that and to know that you've shared that magic with your boys (thanks to your photos, we have watched them explore the world, from vinyl records to balloon sword fights!)
I have worked exceptionally hard to "reclaim" the real me, far from the world's expectation of what I was supposed to be. I can happily say that my painting and writing, which I feared were lost to time, have returned with a more powerful presence than I ever expected.
There's a serenity in the moment you realize that you are special in just being you. I am grateful to you Dan, for helping me see the real me in the mirror so many years ago.
Excellent, superb drawing of Snoopy. Love how the colored pencils and markers are lined up. I like his style!
I took my role as “mom” seriously. It was my job from 1978 until . . . well, I’m still “mom,” just not always on active duty.
It is my most important “who I am.”
When my youngest son no longer needed me as much, I went to back to college full-time. First day of school was my 50th birthday. I was about to apply for a Communications Certificate when I realized I didn’t want to compete with twenty-somethings for jobs.
I turned to what always interested me: Writing.
It’s hard to believe, now, twenty-five years later, I facilitate two writing groups, one revision workshop, and host Writers Forum. The Forum is free on Zoom.
Creative aspirations: I just finished revising one of my seven Write Spot books. After a breather, I might revise another Write Spot book.
I plan to revive my “Write and Collage Workshops.”
Loved this look at your creative roots! I was so busy at that time writing, but set it aside for years. I did a lot of reading during that time so I think that gave me a lesson in what I like. Now the writing pours out again.
Oh my, SUCH a familiar journey. :-) I've had my own creative spirals, dog-legs and rabbit holes, and the thing I like about them is this: if I hadn't had them, I would not be the multi-dimensional person I am today, with more life experience to pull from for storytelling. And lookee! The spiral brought me full circle, right back to writing, where I started.
Dan, at 9, I "published" (by mimeographing my abominably handwritten scrawl) a Beatles newsletter and sold it for 25 cents on the corners of my suburban Southern California streets. Lucy from Peanuts probably had more customers seeking her advice, but I did manage to print five issues of digested Beatles news. And some appalling Beatles poems of my own creation.
I have continued to write and publish in the same spirit, but with typing, my legibility has improved.
Loved the shots of your bedroom as a kid; as a teen, I had giant posters of Jimi Hendrix flanked by Willie Mays on one wall, with the wall opposite having the last passages from Hesse's Siddhartha painted in a calligraphic hand by a friend. The best of all worlds!
We were arrogant and ambitious, an elite group in a public NYC high school of several thousand. We even met in a tower overlooking the Harlem River. Everyone agreed I was a good essayist and as a short story writer, not bad. Our revered Mr. Pulver, though, said, “You, Miss Brunn, are not a poet.” And didn’t I believe him? For decades, till I fell in love with someone unsuitable, and lines kept pulsing in my head, and I wrote them down. And then I worked on them. You could say I was a poet. Now I have several as yet unpublished chapbooks —on love, death, and daily life. I wrote them because I had to.
Sadly, I’d been a teenager who loved to act, loved everything about The Theatre. I graduated from a vicious theatre school and ran after a career, dreaming, auditioning, bitching, but never writing anything more than letters to Grandma. Decades passed, I taught ESL, and then I fell into teaching college students how to write as thinking and feeling humans. The gig turned into my profession. I grew to love it.
Now here I am, an unpublished poet, playwright, and fiction writer. Every morning, I get up at 5:30 to work on the fifth draft of my novel, Dancers and Lovers. (In my 30’s, I’d become addicted to modern, ballet, and jazz and never forgot that world.) And I’m just about finished adapting a chapter for a short story contest I’d particularly like to win.
My hope? It’s to conquer my distaste for, and fear of, social to meet my ideal readers. As soon as I figure out who they are. A couple of macho guys in my writing group responded warmly to my excerpts, really confusing me!
Thanks, Dan, for giving me this chance to review how I got to where I am.
Your trajectory - or spiral- 🌀 has multipassionate tendrils, like mine - stories, singing, performing. May we both melt the fear of showing up in public spaces with our radiance and Wisdom
Yay for continuing to show up to write each morning! Thank you Elena!
Thank you, Dan, for that peek into your past. It’s obvious, by how much you consistently share your life with your readers, that you care about the human connection.
Who am I? A 58 year old whose creativity for 25 years took the form of making homemade costumes for kids, painting the kids’ bedrooms in funky ways, helping with school projects, etc.
Now… I proudly call myself a debut author.
Yay! Thank you Cari!
making homemade costumes for kids, painting the kids’ bedrooms in funky ways, helping with school projects,---is not a small thing, and definitely equally creative as an author. you must see the finished project in your mind --and often have much less freedom to return to an older version of what you are creating. A vision, some tools and implementing the vision with limited tools. Extremely creative. And what's more you gave someone no-one could give your children--colorful, love-filled memories.
Thanks Charu!
Congratulations, Cari!
As a child, my creative spark flew wild - making stories, drawing them, singing them, dancing them. My parents taught me to fear my natural soul. She was too much, too loud, drawing attention to herself.
Now I unwind these layers of conditioning. To embody this knowing: what we most love is when we can truly, honestly, share our wacky wise selves. To reach out with a smile and a twinkle, to honor our shared humanity — we are all essentially creative at heart.
That’s what you have always done, Dan, and I’m so lucky to have joined your merry band of writers years ago 🙏🏽that’s why I’m here on Substack. Thank you for being you.
Thank you for sharing your journey Christine!!!
What a lovely reflection, Dan! You have inspired me to venture down a similar path.
And this part:
"The shadows that prove we were here are not just in the dust on the floor, or even the creative work we leave behind. We remain in the stories and ideas we share, and how we connect on a human level with those we meet."
So well put, and such a poignant reminder. Thank you!
Thank you Angie!
Hi Dan
Seeing the photos of you when you were young were special. By the way, you weren't being "silly" at all; you were having a joyful youth with the freedom to explore ALL the things. It warms my heart to see that and to know that you've shared that magic with your boys (thanks to your photos, we have watched them explore the world, from vinyl records to balloon sword fights!)
I have worked exceptionally hard to "reclaim" the real me, far from the world's expectation of what I was supposed to be. I can happily say that my painting and writing, which I feared were lost to time, have returned with a more powerful presence than I ever expected.
There's a serenity in the moment you realize that you are special in just being you. I am grateful to you Dan, for helping me see the real me in the mirror so many years ago.
Thank you so much Lori!
Excellent, superb drawing of Snoopy. Love how the colored pencils and markers are lined up. I like his style!
I took my role as “mom” seriously. It was my job from 1978 until . . . well, I’m still “mom,” just not always on active duty.
It is my most important “who I am.”
When my youngest son no longer needed me as much, I went to back to college full-time. First day of school was my 50th birthday. I was about to apply for a Communications Certificate when I realized I didn’t want to compete with twenty-somethings for jobs.
I turned to what always interested me: Writing.
It’s hard to believe, now, twenty-five years later, I facilitate two writing groups, one revision workshop, and host Writers Forum. The Forum is free on Zoom.
Creative aspirations: I just finished revising one of my seven Write Spot books. After a breather, I might revise another Write Spot book.
I plan to revive my “Write and Collage Workshops.”
In serving others, I fill my creative basket.
Thank you Marlene!!
Awesome photos, Dan! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Kelcey!
Loved this look at your creative roots! I was so busy at that time writing, but set it aside for years. I did a lot of reading during that time so I think that gave me a lesson in what I like. Now the writing pours out again.
Yay! thank you Patty!
Snoopy!! And I love these old photos of you. So fun to see.
Thanks Sam!
Loved seeing your creative essence unfold in this journey. Thanks, Dan.
Thank you Mark!
Oh my, SUCH a familiar journey. :-) I've had my own creative spirals, dog-legs and rabbit holes, and the thing I like about them is this: if I hadn't had them, I would not be the multi-dimensional person I am today, with more life experience to pull from for storytelling. And lookee! The spiral brought me full circle, right back to writing, where I started.
Indeed! Thank you Katharine!
Dan, at 9, I "published" (by mimeographing my abominably handwritten scrawl) a Beatles newsletter and sold it for 25 cents on the corners of my suburban Southern California streets. Lucy from Peanuts probably had more customers seeking her advice, but I did manage to print five issues of digested Beatles news. And some appalling Beatles poems of my own creation.
I have continued to write and publish in the same spirit, but with typing, my legibility has improved.
Loved the shots of your bedroom as a kid; as a teen, I had giant posters of Jimi Hendrix flanked by Willie Mays on one wall, with the wall opposite having the last passages from Hesse's Siddhartha painted in a calligraphic hand by a friend. The best of all worlds!
Thank you Tom! My dad was a huge Willie Mays fan, so we had lots of images of him around our house growing up.