Jeremy Beaudry
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No. 35: To fear no future
October 6, 2023
The meadow in autumnHow do you write changefrom the inside, when you can’tbegin to see it?Been building for years,but to us, everything changedin the time to...
Postcard: Greetings from Mars
September 11, 2023
September 10, 2023Most nights, over the past few months, I am on Mars. I travel by rover, from tent city to tent city, those vast pressurized dome...
No. 34: All that was washed away
July 29, 2023
For Topher Guertin (1976-2023)I think that when you diedall that was youpoured out into the worldfilled the skies and streamslakes and rivers, filled usand...
No. 33: You are in Canada
June 30, 2023
An opportunity presents itselfThe road sign read “Canada 4” next to an arrow pointing to the right. I’m not a seasoned distance cyclist, but a few miles...
Postcard: Greetings from paradise
June 13, 2023
May 28, 2023In Summerville, Georgia, about 45 miles south of Chattanooga, Tennessee, we met the ghost of a man, touched by God, in his private paradise,...
Sketchbook: Our Most Magical Plan for Then and Now
April 24, 2023
Note: Here’s the second in a series of sketchbook fragments, with a few words draped around the edges for context or color or… because it looks better on the...
No. 32: Untitled (for Art)
April 5, 2023
Dear Friends,My friend Art passed away a few weeks ago. Somehow, amidst the eddy of sadness and grief and the steady march of daily life and routine...
Postcard: Greetings from the edge
March 8, 2023
March 2, 2023I’ve long been fascinated by patterns in the built environment in cities and towns: survey spikes hammered in sidewalks, fluorescent spray paint...
No. 31: What story to tell?
February 20, 2023
Dear Friends,An experiment, a short fiction.What story to tell?Earth in disarray, spilt sand,each grain a reason.This was the late eighties. I was in a...
Sketchbook: Fragments around the new year
January 25, 2023
Note: I’m introducing a third format for sharing in the Substack: pages from my sketchbook, with a few words draped around the edges for context or color or…...
Postcard: Greetings from Winter Interrupted
January 8, 2023
January 8, 2023It’s been nearly three weeks since the temperature was cold enough to freeze the slower edges of the North Branch River, when I captured this...
No. 30: I’m not a Poet
December 15, 2022
Dear Friends,At the end of this letter you will find a poem. I wrote this poem for me. I wrote it because I wished to capture an experience and/or a feeling...
No. 29: Is this wisdom?
November 12, 2022
The meadow does not disappoint in mid-OctoberWhatever wisdom I would find, I knew, would grow out of the land. I trusted that, and that it would reveal...
No. 28: “We are in an imagination battle”
October 21, 2022
Our children put down their guns when we did to imagine with us.We imagined the shining link between the heart and the sun.We imagined tables of food for...
No. 27: Choose the best seed and begin again
October 2, 2022
Dear Friends,On this glorious Autumn day in Vermont, M. and our youngest child gather seeds from the garden. They work on dill, coriander (cilantro), runner...
Postcard: Greetings from camp
September 13, 2022
September 11, 2022We made camp at remote site #18 on the western shore of the Green River Reservoir in Lamoille County, Vermont. An hour earlier, we had off-...
Postcard: Greetings from Ocean City
August 30, 2022
August 29, 2022The vinyl houses in Ocean City, New Jersey are mostly gray, white, or beige, and trimmed in titanium white PVC. Occasionally, various shades...
No. 26: The ultimate question
August 7, 2022
Dear Friends,The oldest known remains of homo sapiens date to nearly 300,000 thousand years ago. These ancient humans, morphologically speaking, resemble...
Postcard: Greetings from the Understory
July 16, 2022
July 8, 2022At Kettle Pond in Vermont’s Groton State Forest, I am lying in a hammock surrounded by the understory, idling beneath the forest canopy. The...
No. 25: “The world ripples across you”
July 1, 2022
Milkweed flowers in the meadowBut insights cannot be held for ever. Like water, the world ripples across you and for a while you take on its colours. Then it...
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