WELCOME AND THANKS FOR VISITING MY PAGE
Gregory Ormson’s O-Rings – this is a place for work shaped by breath, motion, land, and listening. My life moves through many forms: writer, drummer and musician, motorcycle rider, teacher, yogi, but the practice between them is singlular and consistent . . . pay attention.
I am keenly interested in the polarities between inclusion and exclusion; and how a human being learns to belong to time, to landscape, to themselves and to the body’s own knowing.
My life and writing travels between northern lakes and desert roads, between discipline and improvisation, between the quiet labor of the page and the hot energy of the open road. Whether I am teaching, turning a sentence, striking a drum or chord, or riding into long weather, I strive to understand life’s coherence in a difficult and demanding time.
We called him one ball Billy * But it really wasn’t true ** There were two up there* We just never knew** The vet made a call* and out came one ball** When a second was snipped* that must’ve hurt, I quipped** But the vet wasn’t through* Pulled teeth too** Now Billy sore from end
GREGORY ORMSON'S Notes, Articles, Blogs, Vlogs Gregory Ormson writes from the ecotone, the vibrant intersections of landscape, spirituality, and physical presence. His essays and poems have appeared in literary journals, anthologies, and print magazines. Author of *Yoga Song* and other works, Ormson blends lyrical observation with grounded reflection drawn from his Midwestern roots and global travels. He lives in Arizona and Wisconsin, seeking stillness where stories emerge like bears. 